bar sign and an empty garbage bin before disappearing around the corner.
“You okay?” Darcy asked.
I jumped; I’d forgotten she was standing behind me. “Yeah. You all right?” I shouted to the derby girl. She turned wordlessly and went into the building. “You’re welcome!” I yelled after her.
“Weird.” Darcy picked up her knapsack. “We should get inside.”
“That’s it?” I was more than a little shocked. It seemed to me that the situation warranted a bigger reaction, but Darcy was too obsessed with getting to the tryout before she turned into a pumpkin. And really, what was I going to say? I wasn’t going to win points by observing that the crack addict’s glowing eyes had reminded me a little of the guy who’d mugged me the other day.
“What?” she asked. She honestly seemed to have blocked out the weird almost-attack. Maybe I’d imagined it. “Oh my God. Look at your shoes!”
The once-white canvas was a murky brown, and pieces of unidentifiable muck clung to one toe. “Eeew.” I stomped my feet, but the only result was a wet sucking sound from my insoles.
“Oh, yuck!” Darcy exclaimed, putting her hands to her mouth. “You want me to see if I have any extra socks? I might have some. I mean, not like I usually carry socks in my pockets, but—”
“It’s okay,” I said, resigned. “I’ll live.”
“Well,
yeah
, of course.”
Darcy linked her arm with mine and tugged me toward the front doors, a trip that required multiple detours to avoid further exploratory pothole expeditions. When we finally made it into the rink, a blast of supercooled air slapped me in the face. It was so cold that my arms broke out in gooseflesh. I should have brought a hoodie.
A girl skated toward us, and I instinctively stepped back. I wasn’t a coward. During my black belt test, I’d faced down two
shidoshi
—senior black belts—all alone. But just because I knew how to fight didn’t mean I wanted to. This girl, on the other hand, projected a distinct aura of aggression, like the kind of person who picked fights because she thought bleeding was really fun. She wore a typically campy roller derby uniform: a yellow jersey imprinted with the number one, a pair of short purple shorts over black-and-white striped tights, and shiny silver skates. Her hair was done in two long braids and tinted an aggressive red, and heavy makeup ringed both eyes.
“You’re late,” she said, frowning.
I squinted at her. The attitude was totally different, but I could swear this was the derby girl I’d just saved from being throttled. “Um … yeah. Weren’t you the one we just saw out—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she interrupted. But from the tightness of her face, she did know and just didn’t want to admit it. I was fine with not spilling her business all over the room, but to blame us for it was ridiculous. “Are you ready to get schooled?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Darcy said with a gap-toothed grin and a lot of nodding. “I’m so excited! I didn’t want to be late, but I had to wait at Casey’s house, and we lost a few minutes, and then there was that thing in the parking lot, although that wasn’t really our fault, but—”
“Well, you’re here now.” The girl gave me a blatant once-over and then tried to stare me down. “Hi.” She thrust her hand toward me as if it were a weapon and squeezed my fingers hard on the shake. “I’m RJ, but in Derbyland, I’m known as Ruthanasia. I’m the team captain.”
“Yeah, Ruthanasia is totally cool—” Darcy said. She would have added more, but Ruthanasia interrupted her.
“Whatever.” Ruthanasia pointed to the table clearly marked REGISTRATION . “Don’t forget to sign in.” Then she turned to me. “Moral support seating is over there.”
“Actually, I’d like to try out.”
She laughed right in my face. “Very funny, kid.”
She did
not
just call me “kid.” I folded my arms and tried to keep from
“You okay?” Darcy asked.
I jumped; I’d forgotten she was standing behind me. “Yeah. You all right?” I shouted to the derby girl. She turned wordlessly and went into the building. “You’re welcome!” I yelled after her.
“Weird.” Darcy picked up her knapsack. “We should get inside.”
“That’s it?” I was more than a little shocked. It seemed to me that the situation warranted a bigger reaction, but Darcy was too obsessed with getting to the tryout before she turned into a pumpkin. And really, what was I going to say? I wasn’t going to win points by observing that the crack addict’s glowing eyes had reminded me a little of the guy who’d mugged me the other day.
“What?” she asked. She honestly seemed to have blocked out the weird almost-attack. Maybe I’d imagined it. “Oh my God. Look at your shoes!”
The once-white canvas was a murky brown, and pieces of unidentifiable muck clung to one toe. “Eeew.” I stomped my feet, but the only result was a wet sucking sound from my insoles.
“Oh, yuck!” Darcy exclaimed, putting her hands to her mouth. “You want me to see if I have any extra socks? I might have some. I mean, not like I usually carry socks in my pockets, but—”
“It’s okay,” I said, resigned. “I’ll live.”
“Well,
yeah
, of course.”
Darcy linked her arm with mine and tugged me toward the front doors, a trip that required multiple detours to avoid further exploratory pothole expeditions. When we finally made it into the rink, a blast of supercooled air slapped me in the face. It was so cold that my arms broke out in gooseflesh. I should have brought a hoodie.
A girl skated toward us, and I instinctively stepped back. I wasn’t a coward. During my black belt test, I’d faced down two
shidoshi
—senior black belts—all alone. But just because I knew how to fight didn’t mean I wanted to. This girl, on the other hand, projected a distinct aura of aggression, like the kind of person who picked fights because she thought bleeding was really fun. She wore a typically campy roller derby uniform: a yellow jersey imprinted with the number one, a pair of short purple shorts over black-and-white striped tights, and shiny silver skates. Her hair was done in two long braids and tinted an aggressive red, and heavy makeup ringed both eyes.
“You’re late,” she said, frowning.
I squinted at her. The attitude was totally different, but I could swear this was the derby girl I’d just saved from being throttled. “Um … yeah. Weren’t you the one we just saw out—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she interrupted. But from the tightness of her face, she did know and just didn’t want to admit it. I was fine with not spilling her business all over the room, but to blame us for it was ridiculous. “Are you ready to get schooled?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Darcy said with a gap-toothed grin and a lot of nodding. “I’m so excited! I didn’t want to be late, but I had to wait at Casey’s house, and we lost a few minutes, and then there was that thing in the parking lot, although that wasn’t really our fault, but—”
“Well, you’re here now.” The girl gave me a blatant once-over and then tried to stare me down. “Hi.” She thrust her hand toward me as if it were a weapon and squeezed my fingers hard on the shake. “I’m RJ, but in Derbyland, I’m known as Ruthanasia. I’m the team captain.”
“Yeah, Ruthanasia is totally cool—” Darcy said. She would have added more, but Ruthanasia interrupted her.
“Whatever.” Ruthanasia pointed to the table clearly marked REGISTRATION . “Don’t forget to sign in.” Then she turned to me. “Moral support seating is over there.”
“Actually, I’d like to try out.”
She laughed right in my face. “Very funny, kid.”
She did
not
just call me “kid.” I folded my arms and tried to keep from
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