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Three Skid Marks

Page 3

by April Ryder


  No matter what he did though, I owed it to myself to go out on my date with Jake. Paul had been the only man I had been with—other than the Dick that is—and I didn't have much to compare him with. So even though I had decided to skip today's practice—so I could go to Family Planning and find out once and for all if I was or was not pregnant—I was still going on that date.

  "Ow," I complained and glared at the nurse taking my blood. Vampire.

  "Sorry," she said for the eleventy-billionth time, "but your veins are so hard to find."

  I looked down at my pin-pricked krelbow—the other side of my elbow—and stared at my veins. Maybe she was blind. Did I really want a blind nurse to keep sticking me with needles? Whatever I drank tonight would leak out of my krelbow. Not a great impression to make on a first date. Still, it was the only way to know for certain if I was pregnant. Schrodinger's baby was getting tedious.

  "There's one," I said helpfully but regretted it.

  "Sorry, sorry," she said. "I just can't remember where I left my glasses."

  "They're on your head," I grumbled, irked at being right about her being a blind vampire bat.

  She reached up and with an embarrassed smile pushed them onto her nose. "Oh there's a vein. Well at least I was close."

  I tilted my head back so she wouldn't see me roll my eyes and thought of what I was going to wear tonight. Thankfully Jake and I had exchanged numbers at the last practice so I had been able to tell him I wouldn't be there but would meet him at the restaurant at seven. The stupid grin I wore at the thought of being on a date with a hot guy at a posh restaurant was wiped from my face when the nurse suddenly swore.

  "Oh my God," I agreed when I looked at her.

  With blood sprayed across her face like that she looked like she was in an early Peter Jackson splatter movie. Wait a minute…that's my blood!

  "We got a gusher!" she yelled.

  A small team of nurses barged into the tiny room, ready with mop, bucket, and Band-Aids. Good thing I hadn't inherited my mother's inability to look at blood without fainting.

  Once they had patched me up, told me to eat a lot of iron, and let me know that it'd be a couple of days before the results would be back but that they would text me as soon as they were, I was sent on my way. Back into the real world. Luckily for me Paul wasn't home when I got there so I was able to search through my closet for something to wear for my posh dinner with Jake.

  It didn't take me long to realise I had no idea what I was doing so I called my bestie. Adam came over immediately.

  "I already know what little we have to work with," he said as I let him in. "But luckily for you sweetie, I can work miracles."

  "Gee, great," I muttered, not sure if I should be insulted or grateful.

  "First, where are your sexy undergarments?"

  I love Adam, I truly do, but his inability to say anything related to female anatomy or lingerie really annoyed me.

  He snapped his fingers at me and said, "The sexy things you said you wore for your deflowering."

  We stared at each other, both horrified and red-faced. I didn't have to look in the mirror to know my face had gone a bright shade strawberry.

  "Uh…" I managed. "In the back of the dresser."

  "Get them out," he ordered.

  I rummaged through my drawers until I found the lingerie I had worn for my—as Adam had so eloquently put it—deflowering.

  "Give them a shake," he said and I obeyed.

  He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with my Hello Kitty deodorant spray—the bubble gum flavoured one—and proceeded to fumigate my lingerie with it. I wasn't a fan of Hello Kitty but I did like the fake bubble gum smell.

  Adam had me swish my undergarments through the air to take the edge off while he set to work rummaging through my wardrobe.

  I smiled at what he came up with. The same denim mini skirt and sparkly cowl-necked top I had worn to my first roller derby and inline hockey game. The night I had first laid eyes on Jake—and the Dick—and been introduced to the world of adrenaline-filled female-empowered derby girls. He also managed to find some sparkly sandals to match the ensemble. They were four years old and the material on the upper sole had been destroyed, but no one would notice unless I took them off and even then only if they had a shoe fetish.

  Once I was dressed and primped up as best as I could manage—remember I don't wear makeup—Adam gave me the thumbs-up.

  "You're a hot, young, curvaceous roller derby chick and you're going to take that hockey stud home and do things to him that I want to hear all the juicy details—minus the female bits—about tomorrow."

  I nodded once, surprised at how confident I felt. The knowledge that Jake's previous girlfriend was just as big as I was and that he seemed really interested in me was all I needed. Nothing could go wrong tonight.

  "Do you have condoms?"

  Except that. "Er…"

  "Not to worry. Your Fairy Godfather came prepared," he said and upended the bag he had brought with him.

  Dumbfounded, I stared at what seemed like hundreds of condoms as they spilled out onto my bed.

  "I know a chemist," Adam explained.

  I gaped as he pointed out each kind of condom. I had no idea there was such a variety: ribbed for her pleasure, glow in the dark, bumpy bits—presumably also for her pleasure—chocolate-flavoured, strawberry-flavoured, mint, banana and vanilla flavoured, ones with spermicide, extra thin ones…the list went on.

  "You can't leave them there!" I said, panicked that if I did bring Jake home he'd so get the wrong idea about me.

  "Well, put them somewhere," Adam said, using logic against me. "Somewhere nearby, like in the bedside table."

  I yanked the drawer out of the beside table, put it on the bed, and transferred handfuls of brightly coloured condoms into it. As I did I idly wondered if Paul knew there were condoms designed for her pleasure.

  As if he could read my mind, Adam asked, "Where's the ex?"

  I shrugged. "Out somewhere. He told me not to wait up."

  Adam clapped his hands together happily. "Excellent. That means you're all prepared for a night of sexy times."

  "I really wonder about you sometimes," I said and didn't care that had been out loud.

  "I'm going through a dry spell so I have to live vicariously through your newfound sex life. Just remember—"

  "Leave out the female bits," I said.

  "Yeah, but I was going to ask if you could get dick pics."

  This was insane. Here I stood outside Liberace—the posh restaurant—waiting for lucky Number 7 to take me inside and…do what I wasn't sure. I knew what I wanted to happen after dinner. Thanks to Adam I was over-prepared. But I hadn't thought about what would happen on the date itself. Sure there would be eating, but I'd have to maintain eye contact and make small talk. The latter was the problem. It wasn't that I couldn't make small talk, it was more my inability to stop talking. Tonight I knew I would babble like a brook. How embarrassing.

  "Hey Princess!"

  Jake's familiar voice warmed me and I looked up to see him jogging toward me with his gear bag slung over his shoulder. In my eagerness to see him again I hadn't given him enough time to get to our date after practice. My bad. Whatever I had been about to apologise to him for fled my mind as the perfect specimen of the male species stopped in front of me and grinned his perfect grin. I smiled dumbly back as I took in his still-damp dark hair, his gorgeous eyes, and his pure lean manliness.

  Oh. My. God.

  "Sorry I'm late," he said and took my hand. "Had some issues at practice."

  I noticed the brief flash of anger that marred his beautiful face when he said that. Something had happened and I was eager to find out what I had missed. That was in the back of my mind though, as the front of my mind was fixated on the fact he held my hand. Not only was he hot to look at, but hot to the touch. I couldn't help myself and immediately imagined his warm hands skimming over my cold flesh, seeking all my intimate places tha
t longed for him.

  Down girl! You still have dinner to get through.

  Jake thanked the waiter who had seen us to our table. We were near the back of the already filled restaurant, tucked away in a dimly lit corner. A red candle sat in the middle of the table and illuminated Jake's Adonis-like face. Well, it would have if he weren't scowling. Instead, the candlelight exaggerated his displeasure by casting long shadows across his features. For a moment I swear he looked a lot like Jafar from the animated Disney movie.

  "What's wrong?" I ventured, suddenly worried I'd done something to upset him.

  He sighed and shook his head. "Don't worry, it's not you. It's that jackarse. He's trying to ruin everything for me."

  "Who is?"

  "Rick," he spat the Dick's name with more anger than even I felt for the guy.

  "What's he done?" I asked taken aback by the primal hatred that rolled off him in waves.

  Jake ran a hand roughly through his hair, pushing the curl that had fallen over his eye aside. "He's always been an asshole, but now he's out to get me or something. You know that there's going to be a scout at our game?"

  I nodded.

  "The scout came out to watch us practice and, as it turns out, the scout and Rick know each other from when Rick was playing on the ice. As soon as I heard that I knew I didn't have much of a chance—"

  "Why not?" I said, interrupting him. "You're great at hockey. You score heaps of goals and you're awesome."

  "Thanks, Princess. But while I'm glad you like me, it's obvious that Rick doesn't. Which means the scout doesn't either."

  "Just because Rick doesn't like you doesn't mean—"

  I lost my train of thought when he placed a finger against my lips. God how I wanted to lick that finger and suck on it…

  "Let me explain," he said, and I honest-to-God whimpered when he took his finger away. "Josh overheard them talking. Apparently the scout thought I had the potential to try out for the national side—"

  "That's great!" I said hoping to be physically shushed by him again. No such luck.

  Jake smiled and I almost didn't hear what he said next because I was too busy being lost in his eyes.

  "Yeah until Rick told him all these lies about me. Said I was arrogant and full of myself. That I had a temper, was immature, and didn't have what it took to play in the big leagues."

  "That jerk!" I said, surprised that someone would do something like that and indignant on Jake's behalf. I reminded myself that this was the Dick we were talking about, and making other people miserable—except during wild passionate bathroom sex—was what he lived for.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unsettled by the dampness in my knickers. "Did you confront him?"

  "Yeah I did. And do you know what he said?"

  I shrugged.

  "He admitted to it. Said he didn't think I had the maturity required to represent New Zealand overseas. Can you believe him? He's just jealous because he'll never get there again."

  Hello Kilty had filled me in about Rick after my first practice. He had once been on the national team for ice hockey but his career had come to an end when a fatal car accident had left him too injured to play. It was a sad story and I felt a pang of sympathy for him whenever I remembered. He had lost a brother and could no longer participate in a sport he was passionate about. Playing inline hockey probably paled in comparison. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't be in the derby, although according to Pretty I would break bones to ensure my spot.

  "Maybe he's angry?" I suggested quietly.

  "If he is he should see a therapist or something," Jake said as he picked up the menu and glared at it. "But if he does something like that again he's going to regret it."

  Thankfully that was the end of that conversation. After venting, the Jake I knew and lusted after returned. He apologised for what he had said and told me to order anything I wanted. Price was no problem. The rich certainly had no problem splurging on extravagant meals. I just wish the meals were as big as the price tag. I declined a second offer of dessert even though I really wanted it, along with a Big Mac and fries. No wonder a lot of rich celebrities were skinny. They didn't eat!

  Outside the restaurant Jake took me by the hand and pulled me into his arms. My breath caught as we stared deep into each other's eyes and I swear time stood still. He slowly closed the distance between us and I gasped as he gently pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was delicate, yet still curled my toes as the traffic on the road passed by, car lights silently illuminating us before disappearing somewhere into the city.

  The most romantic moment of my life was ruined by my cell phone. If I had remembered to turn it off before our date, Jake wouldn't have ended that soul-warming kiss. Could he be my soul mate?

  "You going to get that?" he murmured as he wove his fingers into my hair and caressed my cheeks with his thumbs.

  "It's just a text."

  "It might be important."

  I sighed and shoved my hand into my bag and produced my cell phone. Jake didn't let me go, so I had to hold the screen up to see who I had to murder next. I groaned. Of course it was Paul. And of course he was back at the apartment and wondering where I was.

  "What's wrong?" Jack asked as he nuzzled my neck.

  Paul is so dead.

  "I was going to invite you back to my place but it's currently occupied," I complained.

  "That's a shame," he said and my eyes almost rolled back when he licked at that spot behind my ear.

  "Yeah," I agreed.

  "I wanted to go back to your place too. Mine is being renovated so we can't go there."

  No one would ever find Paul's body.

  "Maybe another night then?" he offered.

  With one last toe-curling kiss, Jake saw me safely into a taxi and sent me home so I could murder my ex-fiancé.

  The taxi ride home gave me enough time to devise an array of spectacular ways to off Paul. CSI should really hire me as a creative consultant. My ideas were as creative as they were cruel. The man was going to suffer. That was until I walked into the apartment and straight into an oversized bouquet of sunflowers.

  "What the…"

  "They're from me!" Paul called out from behind the enormous flowers.

  Dammit, he had used the flower attack. I was stunned. Paul had acquired new—yet somewhat traditional—techniques to re-woo me. I was not prepared for this.

  "Oh my God. I love sunflowers!"

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  "You do?" he said with a surprised tinge to his voice that made me squint with suspicion.

  "Yes. They're so sunny and happy."

  "Of course, that's why I got you sunflowers," he said smoothly.

  I walked around the massive bouquet that sat in a decorative vase—not one of mine, so it must have come with the flowers—to thank Paul properly. Just a quick hug of gratitude, nothing else. I wanted to savour the taste of Jake on my lips for as long as humanly possible. Even giving Paul a peck on the cheek would sully the flavour. Blech, Paul flavour.

  "They're frickin' huge, Paul. They must have been expensive."

  He shrugged. "If they help me get you back then it was worth every dollar."

  That was actually kind of sweet.

  Paul shuffled his feet, suddenly shy. This was getting too cute for words. Where had this side of Paul come from?

  "I thought," he said, "we could go out to dinner. Somewhere romantic. I've booked a table at Liberace for Friday at seven and—"

  Deja vu.

  "I can't," I told him. "It's the semifinals. I'll be skating."

  His cuteness evaporated. Instead, his face morphed into the poopy look I was more familiar with. I could see this would be a problem.

  "I told you it's too dangerous. Why are you even doing this?" he demanded. "Is it to get back at me?"

  Where had that come from?

  "Contrary to what you think this isn't about you," I said, stabbing my finger in the air at him. "I like roller derby. I like being par
t of a team. I like the thrill and the rush and the girl power."

  "I don't understand."

  "Then maybe you should come Friday night and watch. It's at the sports centre. Doors open at six thirty p.m. Tickets are ten dollars."

  With that I took another look at the sunflowers and marched off to my bedroom. At the last moment I took a detour into the bathroom. Shawn the Shower would be required to act as proxy for lucky Number 7 tonight. And if Paul didn't like my vocals he could leave.

  * * *

  The next two days I managed to leave the house without running into Paul. I made it through work without receiving anymore contraceptive devices from my boss, Trish still had nothing to report back from her HR spy, and my mother didn't text once! Thank God. But still nothing from Family Planning.

  By the time I reached the relative safety of the changing room in the Selby Sports Centre though, my nerves were on edge. With everything that had been going on, from Paul's unexpected return and proposal to the stress of the semifinal, I had completely forgotten about Rick the Dick. That was until I walked into the back of him.

  I groaned and rubbed my boobs. How on earth I managed to walk into him tits-first was beyond me. Maybe they were subconsciously trying to get his attention…but that was a mad idea and I pushed it aside. To think my boobs would have minds of their own…okay so my boobs have minds of their own. That's not weird.

  He grunted and looked over his shoulder at me.

  We both froze when we realised who the other was.

  Other players and skaters walked past us, a few whispering behind their hands to each other while the rest openly gawked. I got the feeling news about our hot tryst last week had spread. Rick didn't strike me as the kind to fuck and tell, and I knew Adam would take this to the grave, even with threat of torture. So that left whoever Adam had been with when they walked in on us in the middle of what we had been in the middle of. Which meant the odds of Rick's wife knowing were also pretty good. What a mess.

  "Did you—" he started to say but I gave him no chance.

 

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