Four Skid Marks

by April Ryder

  With that task completed I pulled out my dumb phone—dumb because it's not a smart phone—and stared at it. We hadn't been able to justify buying smart phones while saving for a wedding and living in Auckland. The rent on the apartment is high and most of my income paid for it, leaving very little leftover for food let alone cell phones. If I lost my job I wouldn't be able to afford anything, unless I could find a new job right away. Really there was no choice. Either I found a new job or I would have to move back in with my mother. A fate worse than death.

  My phone vibrated loudly, startling me. Luckily no one else was there to hear it. I always worried people thought I was using a vibrator whenever I was in a public bathroom and someone called or texted.

  It was Jake, and I couldn't help the stupid grin and blush I could feel breaking out over my face. The fun sexytimes I'd spent with him had catapulted my sexual experience up to…let's just say it expanded my sexual horizons. I hadn't been kidding earlier. Getting out of bed had been difficult. The couch, the table, and the bench in the kitchen had all lost their virginity that night!

  Anyway, back to the present. Jake. Unfortunately he was busy with work for most of the week but he said he could take me out to dinner on Friday before the final derby. Using my thumbs I texted my—no doubt—overeager reply. Our second official date. Squee!

  My dumb phone vibrated again, interrupting my fantasies of sex in a restaurant with my lucky Number 7. And no, I have no shame. It's called a fantasy for a reason. You don't have to do it for real.

  I was a little disappointed to find it wasn't Jake replying. Instead I had a cryptic message from Kilty: You have mail.

  Huh?

  It wasn't until I got back to my desk—having checked the coast was Trish-free—and powered up my computer that I found out what Kilty had meant. Everyone checked their personal email at work and often had Facebook running on another tab. Probably every employer in the country paid their employees to Facebook. Anyway, on my Gmail I was surprised to find Kilty had forwarded me several emails.

  I clicked on the most recent one and…

  "What the—" I said out loud. Followed closely by, "Holy shit!"

  Someone had sent me an erotic poem. I quickly closed the browser before anyone—especially IT—thought I had gone looking for something so against the code of conduct that I probably wouldn't have to wait a month to lose my job.

  I picked up the phone and dialled Kilty.

  "What the fuck?" I demanded as soon as she answered.

  She laughed on the other end and said, "Relax. He's harmless."

  "He, who?"

  "His name is Andrew and he sends all of us fan mail."

  "Fan mail?" I asked. I knew it was a dumb question but I couldn't seem to understand what was going on.

  "Yeah. I uploaded your pics and deets to the site and—"

  "Site? What site?"

  "The team's site. Anyway, I hadn't checked the team email since adding you and it looks Andrew has shifted his attentions to you. Honestly Skids, he's harmless."

  "So…" I said trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing. "I have a fan?"

  "Aha."

  "A fan who sends erotic poetry to everyone on the team?"

  "Ah—wait, did you say erotic?"

  "Yeah, it went on about the curve of my hips and my plunging cleavage and I'm pretty sure I saw the word 'spank' in there," I whispered, hoping no one in a nearby cubicle could hear me.

  "Huh."

  "Huh? What huh?"

  "He's never done that before."

  Silence. Mostly from me. Totally unbearable of course. On the one hand I had fans… well a fan. On the other I was suddenly afraid someone else might try to steal my knickers.

  "I gotta go or the machine is gonna crap itself if I don't stop it," she suddenly said and it's only then that I realised I could hear the loud noise of clanging machinery in the background. "I'll see you tonight."

  "Right, sure," I replied and wondered what it was she did for a living. It was always a surprise finding out what the girls on the team did during the day. Never in a million years would I have guessed that Pretty Vicious was an early childhood teacher.

  Kilty hung up and I made a note of asking her about her profession the next time I saw her. Which would be tonight. Shit! Tonight I had practice. In fact every night this week we either had practice or a game plan meeting scheduled. Good thing Jake was busy, otherwise he might think I was snubbing him.

  Adam parked his car on the side of the road. We were in a high-priced residential area of Selby. Large four-plus bedroom houses lined the quiet street. Well, quiet except for the horde of derby girls congregating outside one of the posher looking places.

  "Your kilted friend lives here?" Adam asked with eyebrow raised. We both sat, dumbfounded by the fact Kilty was rich.

  "Apparently," I said with a shrug.

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. I'd told him all about my summons from the Human Cattle department and that they couldn't see me until Wednesday. They sure knew how to torture their cattle.

  "You could come work for me," Adam suggested.

  "I don't know anything about IT," I reminded him.

  "Yeah about that," he said and stared intently out the windscreen before finishing his sentence. "I quit that job two months ago. I'm doing something else now."

  "Wait, what?"

  Dude had my full attention now.

  He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. Whatever it was he was embarrassed.

  "Are you a male escort?" I blurted.

  "What? No…why, do you think I'd be good at it?"

  My eyebrows shot off my head. "Why are you asking me? How would I know?"

  "No, sweetie," he said trying to calm me down, no doubt fully aware I was imagining things I didn't want to imagine. What has been seen cannot be unseen…

  "What then?" I asked and braced myself for whatever it could be. Although, I'm not sure what would be more embarrassing than being paid to have sex.

  "I write."

  "Write what?"

  He mumbled something I didn't catch.

  "What?"

  He sighed, squared his shoulders and said, "I write erotic romances. Really smutty, dirty, descriptive erotic romances."

  I blinked rapidly as I tried to take in what he had just said. "Books with sex in them?"

  "And they sell really, really well. So I quit my day job and started writing full-time."

  "Wow. Um…that's great," I told him, and wanting to be the supportive bestie, I asked, "Can I read one?"

  "Er… you already have. I snuck it into your reading pile a few weeks ago. Rough with the Ref…"

  "Huh? But it's guy on girl…"

  My mind imploded. How could Adam have written a book that included the actual names of women's body parts? He was terrified of girl bits and everything to do with them.

  "Hayley?" Adam said as he waved a hand in front of my face. "Hayley, did I break your mind?"

  I nodded. "Broken…your fault…how?"

  "I write it guy on guy, my editor changes it for me and we publish both versions. They're selling about the same and I'm working on two follow-ups in the series: Caught by the Coach and Wanted by the Winger."

  Brain still broken, I could only nod. Rough with the Ref had been fucken hot. No wonder he'd kept his career change from me. I don't think I could look at him the same way again.

  Adam stared at me as I shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. I blushed furiously having just remembered the sin bin scene. My eyes widened at the thought of two men instead of Karly and Dustin.

  "I kinda want to read the other version now," I quietly admitted. What? You're not even a little curious? Don't judge me.

  Adam exhaled quickly and said, "I'll send you the Kindle file."

  "Cool. So ah…what would I have to do if I went to work for you?"

  He shrugged. "Just admin stuff. Replying to emails, setting up interviews, and booking advertising.
Maybe some spreadsheet work."

  I nodded. Those were all things I did at my possibly-soon-to-be former job. Without warning I leaned over and hugged him. "Thanks Adam."

  "No problem sweetie, but I'm not doing this for you. I really do need the help."

  A knock from the passenger-side window startled me. Adam and I pulled away and looked into the face of the devil.

  "Gah!"

  "You're late," the demon also known as Pretty Vicious informed me through the glass.

  "She's scary," Adam murmured under his breath.

  "You have no idea."

  The house turned out to be owned by Kilty's mother, who made her money from real estate and development. Kilty had moved back home to save money for an overseas trip. It was the typical kiwi overseas experience which would see her working and living in London for two years while she took quick trips around Europe and the UK. It was something I would have done after university if I hadn't been saving for a wedding that was never going to happen.

  My melancholic sigh caught Kilty's attention.

  "Popcorn?" she offered.

  "Don't mind if I do," I said half-heartedly before selecting a single piece of popped nom.

  "What's up?" she asked.

  I glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying us any attention, but they were all either conversing quietly amongst themselves or watching the footage of the Ponsonby Pistons projected onto the large screen across the room. They were the team we would face in the finals, and tonight we were—as Pretty put it—studying the enemy.

  "Everything," I admitted. "But at the moment I'm still miffed about possibly losing my job."

  "Miffed?"

  "Well originally I was in denial, but then I was pissed. Just before I was feeling sorry for myself and now I guess I'm accepting it. Besides, Adam has offered me a job as his assistant."

  Kilty offered me more popcorn and asked, "What does he do?"

  "He writes erotic romances."

  "No shit?"

  "No shit. I've even read one. It's called Rough with the Ref."

  "M/f or M/m?"

  "What?"

  "The straight one or the gay one."

  I stared at her, realisation dawning. "You've heard of it?"

  "I read it this weekend. A friend sent it to me."

  I gaped at her like a fish.

  "Remember when Adam got drunk after your first derby? Well he told Justin all about it, who told Casper who sent me the book—after he read it first."

  "Justin? Casper?"

  "Justin's one of the derby refs and Casper is the men's hockey coach—we're friends."

  "Wait, Justin or Dustin?"

  She paused and as her eyes met mine I could see we were thinking the same thing. Adam had written an erotic story about his recent lover.

  Did that mean…

  "Ew!" I cried, startling the girls. "Cannot be unseen! Cannot. Be. Un. Seen."

  I didn't gouge my eyes out with my fingers, but someone really needs to invent mind bleach. They'd make billions. I mean, how many people have accidentally walked in on their parents having sex? Is your hand up? Mine is. I was six and traumatised forever because I believed my older sister when she explained to me it wasn't sex—my mother gave us that Where Did I Come From book, so I knew it was sex—but that Dad was a naked vampire that slowly sucked the life from his spouse. With his penis. She also hit me with a table, but that was unrelated. She's not a nice person. Anyway…

  I stared at the flower that was taped to my apartment door. There was a note, of course. Before I read it I made sure to check the hallway was empty and that no one was spying on me. With the coast clear, I ripped open the envelope, unfolded the piece of paper inside, and banged my head against the door.

  With a sigh, I pulled my phone out and called Kilty. As soon as she answered, I yelled at her, "He sent me a dick pic!"

  "Ow, use your inside voice. Did you just say dick pic?"

  "Ya-huh."

  "How big is it?"

  "It's hard to tell when there is NOTHING ELSE IN THE PICTURE TO COMPARE IT TO!"

  A moment of silence passed while I huffed in frustration. Down the hall a door opened and I decided it was time to stop disturbing the peace and think about my privacy. I pulled the flower off the door and took it, myself, and the offensive piece of pornography into my apartment.

  "I think I've gone deaf in my left ear," Kilty grumbled when I returned my attention to her.

  "And I've gone blind," I told her, not having any sympathy for having been the cause. "Twice."

  "Just to be clear, it's Andrew's dick pic?"

  "How would I know?" I demanded before catching sight of writing in the corner. "It says: From your biggest fan, Andrew."

  "He must really like you. It's kinda cute."

  Cute? Maybe if it had a smiley face and a little wig.

  "Okay, I'll send him an email and tell him to back off."

  "What if that doesn't work?"

  "If that doesn't work then I'll threaten to rip off his offensive member and force-feed it to him. Happy?"

  "Yes. Very. I think I need a shower."

  "A cold one cause that pic got you all hot and bothered?" she asked innocently.

  I started singing some TSwift before I ended the call.

  Tuesday at work was hell. I couldn't get anything done and ended up playing solitaire on the computer for most of the day. I won seventeen times. Twice I did it three times in a row. Jim had external meetings all day so it wasn't like I had heaps to do. Besides, what would happen if they caught me? They'd let me go? I was already staring down that barrel.

  Trish kept looking at me with pity in her eyes and I took an early but long lunchbreak to avoid her. She would just ask annoying questions and as I said earlier, I didn't want to snap at her. I was saving my wrath for the Human Cattle rustlers. It was doubtful I would unleash said wrath as I'm kind of scared of the faceless entity that is HR. But knowing me I'd probably blurt something out. Hopefully that something wouldn't make me look stupid in the process.

  Adam was kind enough to pick me up from work again and he took me straight to the sports centre. Tonight and tomorrow we had practice. Thursday was a recovery day and then on Friday…well it was the big day. The FINAL. I was and wasn't looking forward to it. Even though it would only be my third derby I already craved the adrenaline rush that came with it. How I felt powerful and wild all at the same time. I loved that chaotic frenzy of being in a pack, snarling around a mouthguard while using my body to deny the other team's jammer. Yeah, those Pistons were going down!

  I bounced into the centre with Adam on my heels. He didn't have practice today but the coach of the men's inline hockey team—Casper—had asked him to come in for a talk.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to hold your hand?" I asked. "It sounds ominous."

  "I'm sure," he said but he didn't look it. Nervous energy practically fell off him and puddled at his feet.

  "What'll you do if he kicks you off the team?" I asked and immediately facepalmed. "Sorry, I didn't think."

  "What? I missed that?" he said as he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

  "Nothing," I assured him. "You know where I'll be if you need me."

  "Right," he said, still distracted.

  "And if you're a good boy, I have a dick pic to show you."

  Adam's head snapped up, his gaze locked with mine as he asked, "Whose?"

  I shrugged. "Some guy called Andrew. Says he's a really big fan."

  "Is he?" Adam asked. "Big, I mean?"

  Why does everyone keep asking me that?

  "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I complained.

  "It's a legitimate question."

  "Just go talk to your coach. If you're lucky he just wants you to sign his copy of your book."

  Adam nodded and walked away. After a few steps he turned back and looked at me with horror in his eyes. "My book? How does he know about that?"

  "Justin told him that night you
and he hooked up after getting drunk. Remember?"

  "No?"

  I kinda felt sorry for him but not. A random thought hit me and I had to ask, "You know those other two books you're writing? What's the name of the coach in that coach one?"

  "Jasper, why?"

  "No reason," I said before leaving him where he was to wonder what I really meant.

  After warming up, our captain Pretty Vicious divided us up into two groups and we used both rinks to run mock derby matches against each other, practicing both blocking and jamming. I hadn't been with the team long so I took this time to study each of them, the way they moved, blocked, and even trash talked. Between them they had quite an eclectic skillset. We looked just as competent as the Pistons we had watched last night on Kilty's mother's big screen. Friday's match would be close, but I was confident we had more than a good chance of winning.

  Speaking of Kilty, where was she?

  "Seen Kilty?" I asked Ponytail Puller.

  "Working. She has two jobs."

  Wow, she really was keen to save up and go overseas. Mind you if I were living with my mother that would motivate me too.

  "She'll be in tomorrow," Ponytail added.

  "Dick on the rink!" someone yelled out and we all looked up to glare at the offender.

  It was Adam, and I quickly skated over to make sure he was okay. "What's up?" I asked, suddenly worried he had been kicked off the team.

  "Um…Casper wants me to take Rick's spot."

  "Wait, what?"

  "After what happened during the last game Rick and Jake were both suspended. We're short on players so I'll be playing a full game as a back."

  Whatever he said after Rick and Jake had been suspended, I didn't hear. Jake hadn't told me he was suspended. Wouldn't that be something he should tell me? I mean, we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, but still. He'd confided in me before.