but she wasn’t overly dangerous. I’d defied death enough lately, thank you very much.
“Renting. I already picked out the skates I want, though. Most of them are so totally lacking in style, but I found a hot-pink pair that’s cool. I love pink, just like the color you’ve got on your head. Is it a tattoo?”
“Not a tattoo,” I mumbled, covering my hands with my face. Darcy’s driving was scarier than a spinal tap.
The car skidded into the parking lot of the Skate Lake, one of the few indoor rinks that hadn’t gone out of business yet. We had plenty of outdoor skate parks in town, but only one indoor track. It made most of its money from Mackinaw’s derby leagues. Both the junior and senior teams held their practices there. Bouts were held at the university convention center; they almost always sold out, especially duringthe spring, when all the tourists rolled into town. Nothing says “family vacation” more than watching a bunch of girls on wheels beat the crap out of each other.
When we pulled into a spot next to a rusted-out El Camino, I heard the strangest noise. It sounded like a pterodactyl was about to dive-bomb the car. I stepped out, looking around in confusion. It didn’t take long to locate the source of the noise: a derby girl was scuffling with what looked like a homeless vagrant girl against the wall of the building, and the vagrant kept letting out these animalistic screeches. As I watched, the vagrant grabbed the derby girl by the collar and started punching her in the face. Strangely, the derby girl just took the abuse. She didn’t even raise her arms to defend herself.
That was totally uncool. I took a step forward and yelled “Hey!” before I even had a chance to evaluate whether this was a wise course of action. The two combatants froze and then turned twin glares on me like I’d interrupted something important. I put up my hands; if they wanted to thrash each other, it wasn’t my business. But I couldn’t help asking, “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
No answer. Not the most welcoming of experiences, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my tryout. I turned to Darcy, who stood uncertainly by the trunk.
“Should I get our stuff out?” she asked, glancing nervously at the pair of crazies.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
She handed over my bag and leaned back into the car tocollect a few things that had spilled out of her open knapsack and scattered all over the trunk. I was waiting patiently when someone shoved me hard from behind, catching me completely off guard. I stumbled into a pothole so huge that our entire town house would probably have fit inside. Mud-swirled lukewarm water seeped into my shoes.
I whirled around, letting the momentum swing my backpack off my shoulder. It flew right into the chest of the vagrant, whose expression of triumph faded when she got knocked back a step. She was younger than I’d realized, definitely not out of high school, and too clean to have been out on the street long. But the wild-eyed expression combined with the white crust of drool at the corners of her mouth suggested that she’d been into some illegal substances.
“What the heck is your problem?” I demanded, falling into a defensive posture.
She leaned toward me, her foul breath enveloping my head. Her pupils flickered red as if a flash had just gone off and I’d missed it. It reminded me of the guy in the alley, and not in a good way. My hand went instinctively to my lucky necklace, hanging on a new silver chain. Her eyes tracked the movement, and she immediately backed off, her hands in front of her face as if she expected me to stab her with a sterling silver pendant. I might have if I’d thought it would do any good.
“It burns!” she squealed, cowering away from me. “It hurts!”
Then she turned tail and ran, the kind of flailing chaotic flight that doesn’t get you anywhere fast and manages tomake you knock over everything in your path. She took out a snack
“Renting. I already picked out the skates I want, though. Most of them are so totally lacking in style, but I found a hot-pink pair that’s cool. I love pink, just like the color you’ve got on your head. Is it a tattoo?”
“Not a tattoo,” I mumbled, covering my hands with my face. Darcy’s driving was scarier than a spinal tap.
The car skidded into the parking lot of the Skate Lake, one of the few indoor rinks that hadn’t gone out of business yet. We had plenty of outdoor skate parks in town, but only one indoor track. It made most of its money from Mackinaw’s derby leagues. Both the junior and senior teams held their practices there. Bouts were held at the university convention center; they almost always sold out, especially duringthe spring, when all the tourists rolled into town. Nothing says “family vacation” more than watching a bunch of girls on wheels beat the crap out of each other.
When we pulled into a spot next to a rusted-out El Camino, I heard the strangest noise. It sounded like a pterodactyl was about to dive-bomb the car. I stepped out, looking around in confusion. It didn’t take long to locate the source of the noise: a derby girl was scuffling with what looked like a homeless vagrant girl against the wall of the building, and the vagrant kept letting out these animalistic screeches. As I watched, the vagrant grabbed the derby girl by the collar and started punching her in the face. Strangely, the derby girl just took the abuse. She didn’t even raise her arms to defend herself.
That was totally uncool. I took a step forward and yelled “Hey!” before I even had a chance to evaluate whether this was a wise course of action. The two combatants froze and then turned twin glares on me like I’d interrupted something important. I put up my hands; if they wanted to thrash each other, it wasn’t my business. But I couldn’t help asking, “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
No answer. Not the most welcoming of experiences, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my tryout. I turned to Darcy, who stood uncertainly by the trunk.
“Should I get our stuff out?” she asked, glancing nervously at the pair of crazies.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
She handed over my bag and leaned back into the car tocollect a few things that had spilled out of her open knapsack and scattered all over the trunk. I was waiting patiently when someone shoved me hard from behind, catching me completely off guard. I stumbled into a pothole so huge that our entire town house would probably have fit inside. Mud-swirled lukewarm water seeped into my shoes.
I whirled around, letting the momentum swing my backpack off my shoulder. It flew right into the chest of the vagrant, whose expression of triumph faded when she got knocked back a step. She was younger than I’d realized, definitely not out of high school, and too clean to have been out on the street long. But the wild-eyed expression combined with the white crust of drool at the corners of her mouth suggested that she’d been into some illegal substances.
“What the heck is your problem?” I demanded, falling into a defensive posture.
She leaned toward me, her foul breath enveloping my head. Her pupils flickered red as if a flash had just gone off and I’d missed it. It reminded me of the guy in the alley, and not in a good way. My hand went instinctively to my lucky necklace, hanging on a new silver chain. Her eyes tracked the movement, and she immediately backed off, her hands in front of her face as if she expected me to stab her with a sterling silver pendant. I might have if I’d thought it would do any good.
“It burns!” she squealed, cowering away from me. “It hurts!”
Then she turned tail and ran, the kind of flailing chaotic flight that doesn’t get you anywhere fast and manages tomake you knock over everything in your path. She took out a snack
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