Four Skid Marks

by April Ryder

  The ref blew his whistle and we both took off like horses out of the gate. We struggled with the pack but with a twist I was able to break through.

  Yes, I had the jam!

  My heart rate thundered as I gained speed. I didn't slow for the turns and I was soon behind the pack again, ready to lap them for another point. It was then that things went terribly wrong. I watched in horror as the front of the pack went down. Someone had tripped and it had a domino effect. There was no way I could stop in time to avoid it. My options were to fly into them or try to turn away. It was a split-second decision and I didn't have time to make it. I wanted to turn away but someone's arm flopped out on the rink before me. Running over it would probably break the bone. I know Pretty would have been proud but I had no way of knowing if it was the arm of a Slammer or a Piston. I had no choice but to plough into the dogpile.

  "Oof!"

  I landed hard and awkwardly on a skate. Right in the guts. The air burst from my lungs and I collapsed, rolling into the foetal position as I tried to gasp in precious, precious oxygen. People swarmed around me. Most ran to the dogpile while one of them placed an oxygen mask over my face and yelled at me to breathe. As if I wasn't already fucken trying!

  Still, I appreciated that the people from the St. John's Ambulance were there. As it turned out my winding was minor compared to the Piston who had two of her fingers—one on each hand—broken. Ouch.

  After much poking and prodding they decided I didn't need to visit the hospital unless I experienced anything on a long list of symptoms. It wasn't enough to satisfy Pretty, however, and she benched me for the rest of the final. Even though I hadn't been the cause of the Pistons' broken fingers Pretty seemed to think it was just as good as making one of them bleed. I didn't argue. Having never taken a skate to the gut—or a gut to the skate—before, I didn't want to push my luck and somehow injure myself again. At least I was close enough to offer support.

  What did upset me was the fact Jake hadn't come running onto the rink to help me like he had when I'd ended up underneath a dogpile. He'd said he had something to do but would definitely be there for the end of the derby. And as for Rick? Well, yeah he had helped back then too but he had no reason to be here.

  I sighed and immediately regretted it. Oh the pain. What was worse was that I knew it would be terrible by morning. Skates leave big bruises.

  The ref signalled the end of the first half and I followed the girls back to the changing room. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the bench that ran around the walls of the changing area.

  "Good job, Skids," several of my teammates said as they walked past. One or two asked if I was all right. I forced a smile and nodded.

  Something alcoholic was passed around but I declined. I didn't think I could stomach water let alone alcohol right now.

  While Pretty talked eloquently about victory and teamwork—punctuated often with descriptive ways to maim the enemy—I searched my bag for my cell phone.

  "Lost something?" Kilty asked.

  "Yeah my dumbphone," I muttered. "Must have left it at home."

  Kilty pulled hers out and checked the texts. "Got one from Adam. He says so far they're tied."

  I'd forgotten he was playing back at the Selby Sports Centre. "That's good."

  "Nil-nil."

  "Not so good."

  Kilty patted my knee and nodded to our fearless leader. "We're not doing too badly. Both sides are one down but she's cautiously optimistic."

  I looked at Pretty as she roared her battle cry with her bloodthirsty troops. The difference between tonight's two teams was stark, which meant the second half would be really interesting to see. Not that I got to see it. You'd think I'd start to notice a pattern by now, wouldn't you? Something good happens, then something not so good, then something bad, and then something worse. Right now I was at something not so good bordering on something bad…

  When halftime ended I went outside for some fresh air—mmm tasty oxygen—away from the crowd. I traded my skates for sneakers and sat on the front steps staring out into the carpark. Who was I kidding? I was waiting for Jake to show up. I had an owie and I wanted someone to kiss it better.

  I heard footsteps behind me and turned.

  "Are you okay, Goddess?" Andrew asked.

  "Didn't I tell you to come back next year?" I reminded him while desperately covering my embarrassment at not realising he was related to Jake. Wait, he was related to Jake!

  Before he could answer, I blurted, "Do you have your cell phone?"

  "Ah yeah of course."

  I looked at him expectantly. It seemed he needed a hint. "Can I borrow it for a minute?"

  He smiled and there it was, concrete proof that he shared the same handsome genes as his brother. Kilty was right. Andrew would grow up to be a heartbreaker.

  "Sure," he said. After suspiciously wiping it with his sleeve, Andrew handed his phone to me.

  I tried to accept it but it slipped through my fingers. We both watched as it dropped to the ground and the screen cracked.

  "S-sorry," I stammered before stumbling over in excruciating pain.

  The last thing I remember is Andrew lunging for me as I slumped into oblivion.

  I think I was in someone's arms. Someone strong. Someone with a masculine scent. Carrying me. Lowering me gently. But that was probably my imagination as I couldn't focus on anything other than what felt like my organs being ripped from my body. I might have cried and called out for Jake before I floated into a numb nothingness.

  "Hayley, can you hear me?" someone said as they blinded me with a bright light. "You're in the hospital. You need to have urgent surgery. If there is anyone we can call, please tell the nurse and she'll contact them for you."

  Thankfully he finished torturing my eyes and I was able to see the hustle and bustle of an emergency room around me.

  "What, wait?" I slurred.

  A nurse came into view and took my hand. "We've given you something for the pain, love. Who do you want me to call?"

  Never before had I felt so alone and scared. Why did I need urgent surgery? What had happened? I opened my mouth and unashamedly cried, "I want my daddy!"

  She patted my arm and cooed and when I calmed down enough to hear what she was saying, she said, "He's already here. I'll go get him for you."

  I didn't want her to leave me alone but the logical—yet very small—part of my bran reminded me I wouldn't be alone for long and that my dad was coming.

  A moment later my dad hurried in. I stared up at him and wondered when he had gotten so old.

  "When did you get old?" I asked. In my defence that might have been the drugs talking. We all know it probably wasn't.

  "About twenty minutes ago when someone called to tell me you were in an ambulance being rushed to the hospital. What's this about urgent surgery?" he asked.

  My eyes widened in shock. At least I think they did. I wasn't sure what parts of my body I still had control of. "That's more words than you usually say, Dad."

  "Is it?" he said. "Focus Hayley. Surgery."

  "I don't know," I said. "I thought you might know."

  My dad shook his head, looking as lost as I felt. Tears started to roll down my cheeks and the doctor chose that moment to walk back in—with my mother.

  "Mum!"

  "Hayley what have you done?" she demanded.

  "I don't know," I admitted and looked to the doctor for the answer.

  The heads of my parental units both swivelled to him as well, demanding the same thing.

  He eyed my parents, cleared his throat and got straight to the point. "Hayley you have what's called an ectopic pregnancy—"

  "She's pregnant?!" that was my mother.

  "I'm pregnant?" that's me.

  "What?" and last but by no means least, Dad.

  "Yes and no," the doctor hedged. "There is a fertilised fetus, however, it will need to be removed—"

  "What?" my mother interrupted. "What, what, what?"

  "Mum," I ye
lled and winced. More quietly, I said, "Shut up and let the doctor finish."

  With a nod of thanks he continued. "It needs to be removed as it is not in your uterus like a normal pregnancy but has instead become lodged in your right fallopian tube. That is why you are experiencing such chronic pain."

  "What happens if you don't remove it?" my mother seriously asked.

  For a woman who for years had said she didn't want me to make the mistakes she made by getting pregnant like ever, this was an unexpected reaction.

  "Your daughter could very well die."

  "Huh," I said.

  "What are the risks from the surgery?" my dad asked. That was a good question. Why didn't I think of it?

  "There is always the risk of infection, but that is minimal. It is, however, possible that we'll have to remove the fallopian tube as the gestation of the fetus seems to be quite advanced."

  "Don't I need that?"

  "We only intend to remove one of your fallopian tubes. You should still be able to conceive and have a normal pregnancy in the future, if you so wish."

  "That's nice," I said. The doctor said it was my choice to have a baby.

  My mother looked ready to erupt but the nurse from earlier returned with a clipboard and some forms. "Operating room two is prepped, doctor."

  "Excellent," he said and turned back to me with his serious face on. "You'll need to sign consent forms before we operate. The nurse will go through them with you. I'll see you when you're done."

  "Bye-bye," I said and waved. Damn these drugs are good. I bet they'd kick my migraine's arse.

  "Hayley you can't possibly—"

  My father intervened before she could spew whatever it was she was about to spew at me. "Debbie, let's go outside."

  She argued of course, but I was proud of my dad in that moment for firmly and calmly removing her from my sight, at least until after the operation.

  The next time I opened my eyes, it took a moment to focus and then another to remember where I was. Movement across the room caught my attention and I slowly turned my head.

  "She's awake," a familiar voice announced before the door flew open and my room was flooded with roller derby girls still in uniform.

  "What's going on?" I slurred.

  Pretty Vicious separated herself from the group and helpfully replied with, "You survived."

  I wasn't so sure of that but tried to smile to humour her. Who knows, maybe I had.

  The door opened again and this time my parents entered, followed by the doctor who could do nothing more than scowl at the overabundance of oestrogen.

  "What's up, doc?" I asked. That wasn't intentional, it just came out.

  "The operation was a success. You'll have to spend a few days with us for observation before we let you go home."

  The girls cheered loudly, deafening us all. I was so glad that they cared about me that tears leaked from my eyes. By the looks of things my mother was crying too. I watched her push her way through my teammates to my bedside.

  "What's up, Mum?" I asked.

  She took my hand in hers and sniffed. "This is all my fault."

  "I don't see how. You weren't there."

  "No dear, this is definitely my fault and I'm so sorry for what I did to you," she said.

  I blinked. Had I died? My mother had never ever apologised to me before. This must be serious I realised, and shut up to listen.

  "As you know I'm not getting any younger. I don't want to be one of those old grandmothers who can't do anything with their grandkids. So, I took matters into my own hands," she said and paused for dramatic effect. If you haven't guessed by now my mother is a bit melodramatic. I waited her out though.

  "So last Christmas I tampered with the condoms you keep in the bathroom."

  "Wait, what?"

  "I just wanted some grandbabies and I thought if you got pregnant then Paul would have to agree to a date for the wedding. Don't you see darling, I did it for you."

  Emotions I couldn't even name assailed me. My own mother who for more years than I can remember told me that having children would ruin my life, that I should experience the world and not be tied down and make the same mistakes she had, had tried to get me pregnant. Words failed me. I did my fish impression.

  "I can't even…" I looked pleadingly at my dad. The one man I could count on to look out for me again steered my mother out of the room, and I hope he sent her home.

  A whole team of roller derby girls shifted uncomfortably in the silence. I'd honestly forgotten they were there. How embarrassing.

  "And that folks, is my mother," I said with a sigh.

  Pretty voiced what they must have all been thinking, "What a bitch."

  I yawned and looked around to see what time it was. Midnight. The team had refused to leave until they were threatened with security. My dad informed me that he had put his foot down and sent my mother home. That made me giggle. It's very rare for him to be so assertive.

  He lingered, unsure how to broach the question I knew everyone had been dying to ask. Who was the father?

  "It would have been Paul's," I told him.

  My dad nodded, squeezed my hand, and let me know he'd be back in the morning to sneak in some pancakes for me. I love my dad.

  "With maple syrup, berry coulis, and some cream," I reminded him as he slipped through the door.

  The walls were thin so I heard him confront someone outside my room. After a moment he popped his head back in and with a frown said, "Your boyfriend is here."

  That perked me up. "Jake?" I asked, already breathless. Not that I knew whether it was from nervousness or lust.

  My dad disappeared for a moment before confirming the man who wanted to sneak in after midnight—and who claimed to be my boyfriend—was indeed Jake. Squee!

  "Let him in. I'll see you tomorrow, Dad."

  "Goodnight sweetheart. Sleep tight."

  I didn't even bother to question what he meant by that. How on earth did you sleep tight? My mind boggled every time he said it.

  Jake closed the door behind him and stood silently at the foot of my bed, studying me. I did the same—except I was in said bed and looking at him at the foot of it.

  I couldn't keep quiet if someone paid me so of course I was the one to break the silence. "You're my boyfriend, huh?"

  "Well, it was tell him that or that I was fucking his little girl senseless," he said with a shrug and followed it up with his sexy grin.

  "Good point," I conceded. "But shouldn't I get a say before you go around willy-nilly and telling everyone we're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

  "Willy-nilly?" he asked.

  "I'm on drugs. I can say whatever I want. Banana."

  He nodded, letting me have that one. After running his hand through his already tousled hair, he said, "You know I have a reputation, and this is going to sound cliché, but I've never felt this way before. You're different from the others—"

  "Wow, two clichés!"

  "Heh, yeah. Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when it happened—"

  "I think that would have been weird if you were. Paul might have had performance anxiety—oh that's not what you meant. Please continue."

  Jake took another swipe through his hair and I found it rather endearing that this fine specimen of the male species was having trouble finding the words to ask me out.

  "Just promise me you won't do anything to scare me like that again?"

  "Trust me I don't plan on getting pregnant anytime soon. I still have to go to university!" Whoops, I did it again. "Avocado."

  "It's a good thing you're so adorable," he told me as he walked to my side.

  I beamed at the compliment…although maybe it wasn't a compliment. Whatever, I chose to take it that way.

  "Weren't you going to ask me something?"

  He sighed. "You are not making this easy on me, Princess."

  "Just open your mouth and see what comes out. It works for me."

  "So I've noticed," he said and took my ha
nd.

  Oh my fucking God, he was going to propose! What was it with men throwing themselves at me?

  "Just shut up and go out with me."

  We stared at each other for a moment and then he sighed when he realised what he'd said. He tried again, "Will you go out with me?"

  "That's better and my answer is…" I paused for dramatic effect. I am my mother's daughter after all. "I will only go out with you on one condition."

  "What's that?"

  "Stop calling me Princess. My name is Hayley."

  "As you wish, Hayley."

  Oh my God, double squee!

  TO BE CONTINUED

  in

  Five Skid Marks

  Coming soon

  PS: Did you forget the final? Me too. We lost. It sucks but according to Kilty the Slammers have never ever made it to the final before. So yay us.

  What about next year? Well next year I'll be back and kicking arse for the Slammers once more!

  PPS: I have a hot boyfriend!

  PPPS: Adam is a slave driver. He really does work! Who knew? Caught by the Coach will be out soon!

  PPPS: Last one. Promise! Mmmm… pancakes :P

  Thank you reader

  I hope you enjoyed reading Four Skid Marks. I certainly loved writing it!

  If you did, please post a review and rating as it will help others find this book and also enjoy themselves.

  Want more Hayley, Jake and Rick? Then say so in your review.

  The more people who want them, the more incentive I have to give you what you desire :)

  Don't forget to show One Skid Mark, Two Skid Marks and Three Skid Marks some love too.

  Five Skid Marks

  Coming Soon

  A fun BBW Roller Derby Romance—Part Five!