Page 19 of False Start
“Stop.” She pushes at my chest, keeping me from walking away. “If Lonnie was here, they’d be handing it to you right now. I’m happy to do it in their stead.” Her voice sharpens, no longer quiet and meek, but laced with authority. “You either look out for that girl like she’s family, or you’re going to find yourself alone in Skateland, Harvey.”
The look she gives me is cold, a warning that chills me from the inside before she turns on her heels and walks out of the locker room. I feel a stare itching in my peripheral, turning my gaze just slightly to see Nia looking at me from across the locker room.
She couldn’t have heard what D said, but I’m just as annoyed as if she had.
“Jesus Christ, is that from today?” DreadPool’s voice grabs her attention, swinging my gaze over to where they’re inspecting Nia’s already-bruising hip.
“Oh. Yeah.” She gives an awkward laugh. “I bruise easily.”
“Harvey also hits like an MMA fighter. You’re going to be purple all over tomorrow.” Dreadpool laughs, slapping her on the ass before sauntering over to the shower stalls.
There’s a glint of annoyance creeping up, but I shake it off.
“Learn to take a hit.” I shrug, picking up my duffel bag and throwing it over my shoulder.
“I can take a hit just fine when I’m not being bullied,” she murmurs.
“Excuse me?” I drop my bag to the ground once again and turn to fully face her.
8
NIA
“Are you mad that I’m a better skater, or that I’m easier to like than you?”
A gasp to my side and a few murmurs tell me I might have gone too far.
I can’t hold it back anymore, though. Being backed into a corner, pushed until there’s nothing I can do but go to that terrible place inside me and reach for something cruel, a skill I inherited from my mother, honed with time under the cruelty of her steel tongue.
Nonetheless, it’s a skill I both take pride in and am ashamed of.
“Everyone out.” Her nostrils flare wide with rage, not a single person bothering to challenge her request, as if she owns the fucking building. In a few seconds, the entire locker room clears out.
“What, it’s okay when you insult me, but if I finally bite back, you want it in private?” I scoff, tired of taking this girl’s shit.
She licks her lower lip, walking toward me with hard,narrowed eyes. She steps, I move back. Another step, I mimic again. We continue the dance until my back slams against the metal locker.
“I get it, you have a problem with me. I took your spot. I’m faster than you. I knew Lonnie in a way youneverwill, and that bothers you. But that isn’t my problem, and I’m not afraid of you, Harvey.” I exhale it all out so fast, there’s no way it’s convincing.
Maybe Iamafraid of her.
She huffs out in amusement, like she doesn’t believe me either, a crooked smirk gracing her face. “Is that so, princess?”
Her left hand slams the metal behind me, just inches from my face. I gasp, too startled to mask my surprise, but I’m prepared when the right hand repeats the action, locking me in place between her arms.
“You don’t scare me.” I don’t dare break eye contact, watching as her gaze softens and her eyebrows lift in amusement.
“Hmm,” she hums closely in my ear, the hairs on the back of my neck all coming to stand.
She’s fucking with me.
I can play chicken. I can play chickenreallydamn well.
Just barely enough room between us, I grab at the waist of my spandex shorts, shimming out of the material that’s nearly damp with sweat. Just a slight movement of her eyelids, but she regains control, not yet daring to move. Fingers gripping at the hem of my practice shirt, I lift the fabric up and then over my head, dropping it to the ground between us.
Her gaze betrays her, but just as quickly, she corrects her expression, laying on that mask of indifference once again. It’s only when I shimmy out of the fishnet stockingsthat I’m granted enough space to move by her, and with the next movement, I undo the front clasp of my sports bra.
“I need to shower.” Each word is sharp as I push them out through clenched teeth. “Move.”
