Page 18 of False Start
It worked for a while, but ever since Lonnie’s death, this place has become a prison, and now more than ever, it feels like everyone and everything is working against me. I’ve never been a violent person. Angry? Sure. Physically capable of putting my hands on someone? Never.
But this girl?
This girl makes me see red.
Every time I think about the fact that Lonnie is gone and she is here, it drives me beyond reason. I throw my dirty clothes into my gym bag, not bothering to wait for the shower to turn hot before stepping in. The cold water is a startling shock, a welcome sensation against my hot skin.
Antônia was practically my baby, Lonnie would say with pride anytime a skater brought up the fact thattheNia-Death Experience had come from Skateland.You would have loved her, Cat.
Yeah. Sure. If this is love, then I can’t imagine how it feels to hate her.
Clenching my fists tightly and pressing my knuckles against the cold tile of the stall as the water beats down against my skin, I wish for a dead person to come back to life. A light tapping comes from just outside my stall.
“What?” I ask, turning the water off and wrapping myself in a towel.
“You okay, Harvey?” D-Stroya’s voice is quiet and meek, reminding me her confidence is likely shattered after being one of the few skaters to not pass their skills test.
She’s still a Devil’s Dame. It doesn’t matter what Scott tries to claim. You can’t take away the family we built here with something as trivial as a speed test. Still, it doesn’t make it any less painful that she won’t be rostered or evenbenched during a bout. The most she can contribute will be working merch or concession.
It suddenly makes my anger seem minimal.
“Are you?” I ask with a sigh, drying myself off as she slumps onto a bench.
“I’ll be okay.” She tucks a few loose locs behind her ear. “Scott’s letting me test again next practice.” D drops to her back, staring blankly at the ceiling while I slip on my underwear and then gym shorts over them.
“You’ll pass,” I assure her. Deandra’s one of my longest friends on this team; skating without her wouldn’t just be weird. It wasn’t right.
“And if I don’t, I’ll be okay.” She gives me a sad smile that makes me question how much of that is true and how much of it is her trying to convince herself.
I slip over my head a green Celtics basketball jersey over my sports bra before giving her ayou’re full of itlook.
“I mean it, Cat. I’m turning forty-five this year. I’ve been skating for over a decade now. I was here when Lonnie bought this place, when Nia broke her leg. I was here the first timeyoufell on your ass.” Her eyes well with tears, and she shakes her head. “I don’t think I can stick around for any more changes.”
“If you give me some kind of ‘I’m too old to keep skating’ bullshit, I’ll drag you to the rink for the next ten years myself, D,” I deadpan, throwing her my flattest expression and reaching for the towel to dry my hair off.
“It’s not that. I’m just at a point in my life where I crave predictability. I open the boutique every day at nine, close it at four, go home to my husband and kid, and three times a week, I come here to kick ass with you bitches.” She sighs. “The money, the promises of glory, theScott,” she emphasizes with a snort, “that’s not for me.”
“You said you were testing again, so why does it sound like you’re already giving up?” I drop the towel into my bag, zipping up the rest of my shit with no method or reason.
“Maybe I am. I just figured you deserve to know. You’re one of my best friends.”
Skaters trickle into the locker room, as if practice is justnowofficially over.
I’m sure the crocodile will have something to say about me checking out early.
He can fuck right off.
“That means I’m the last person you’ve told, doesn’t it?” I raise a suspicious eyebrow, trying to temper my mood, because I can’t risk directing it at D right at this second.
“You’ve been off the last couple days. I didn’t want to add to your list of problems.” She bites her lip, her gaze looking over at Nia coming into the locker room, all smiles and laughter as she chats with DreadPool.
I can’t help but blurt out, “Doessheknow?”
D frowns. “Yes. Nia isalsoone of my oldest friends. She held my daughter when she was born, Cat.”
I slam my locker shut, a few skaters flinching from the noise and pausing their casual conversations. “That’s actually why I was hoping to talk to you before everybody got here.” Her voice gets quieter. “Whatever you’re dealing with, it isn’t Nia’s fault.”
“Are you kidding me right now, Deandra?” I’m not about to sit through this.
