Page 98 of False Start
“What’s the alternative? Seven awkward years with this asshole benching you, Nia, and whoever else upsets him? Throwing bouts just to prove a point? Replace the team one by one? There’s only so many skaters in DevilTown,” Nancy Shrew says with a laugh, like the options are ludicrous.
They sound ludicrous, but for some reason, I’m still scared shitless.
I barely know who I am off this track anymore. Seven years benched, and I’ll be ready to retire by the time I even get a chance to scrimmage again.
“Yeah.” I nod, trying to give them a sliver of hope.
“We can figure this out. We do what Lonnie did back in the day. We rent the rink out on non-practice days. We open to the public more than one day a week. We breathe life back into this place. We can make thirteen grand happen.” I’m not confident, but the least I can do is pretend.
Dread is already on their phone, likely texting D everything we’re saying like a court transcriber.
“I can’t do anything until I talk to Antônia,” I tell them.
“Is she even capable of handling this kind of decision right now?” K leans on the doorframe, not committing to fully entering the room yet.
“I don’t know. She’s not a child, though. She’s just struggling.” I cut them a look, one that saysit’s fine if you won’t put your trust in her, but don’t judge me for doing it.“Once she’s feeling better, we can figure it out?—”
Venice interrupts, “Do you have that long?”
“No.” I sigh. “He wants an answer by tomorrow morning.”
It feels hopeless.
A problem with solutions we cannot physically achieve.
By the timeI get home, Nia is on the couch, sitting with D and eating a bowl of reheated caldo. It’s a fresh batch. Once I realized she wasn’t kidding about it being the only food she could stomach, I didn’t hesitate to make more. There’s a little bit of color back in her face, but she still looks two stone throws away from death.
She’s alive, though.
And that’s enough for me.
I smile, walking into the room and heading for my girl.
She crawls into my lap like it’s the only place she belongs, and I’m soothed by the feeling of her in my arms again. I press my face to the top of her head, smelling the apricot scent of my shampoo on her hair. “You smell good.” I grin, looking at D, who’s taking full credit for Nia not looking like hot garbage sitting out on the curb.
“D’s helped put some things into perspective for me.” She smiles back at me, and it’s the first time she’s said something positive in days.
It feels huge.
“Anything I should know about?” I can’t help but be curious.
“Nope. Just between old friends.” D sticks her tongue out, then looks back at Dread. “Take me home; I gotta chat with Phil about all this.”
I sigh, knowing the gossip’s traveled all the way here through DreadPool’s texts, and now Deandra would be taking it home to her husband. “Iseveryoneup to date then?”
Even Nia nods her head.
“What do you think?” I ask her.
“Skateland is home.” Her eyebrows furrow like it should have been obvious to me.
It should have.
But what the fuck do we do?
Once Deandra and Dread leave, Nia and I stay exactly as we are. I settle into the couch, pulling her into me and turning on a movie. Something old, with an airplane crash, time travel, and a guy in a rabbit suit. I don’t get it, but it’s one of her favorites, and the distraction is simple enough.
It’s such a small moment, so normal, soboring, so human. It’s exactly the proof I need to know this girl is more than a hyperfixation, more than a hobby, more than an addiction. This right here, it feels good, feelsright.
