Knee Pads

18 | juking

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | JUKING

the act of feinting and dodging to try and send a blocker in one direction while you go the other.

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          We went right back to training as soon as Thanksgiving break ended.

          Corinne's excuse for pushing us to brand new limits was that we needed to spend all pent-up energy from the break, refusing to listen to any of our complaints, and even Marley, out of all people, was on board with her decision. Though it was a pleasant change to see them getting along for once, even if some remnants of tension were still present, I hated that it had to be at our expense.

          "I don't understand . . . the point of all of this," I breathed out, bending forward, hands on my knees. Corinne, who had barely broken a sweat, threw me a skeptical look. "We're not . . . runners."

          "I can tell," she retorted. "Did no one tell you you needed stamina to play roller derby? How do you plan to complete jams if you run out of breath after running one lap?"

          "It's easy for you to say; all you have to do is skate side to side—"

          Mistake number one: assume blockers and the pivot have an easier time than the jammer because they don't have to skate around the track like jammers do.

          Mistake number two: say that to Corinne's face.

          She simply sighed, tossing away the towel that used to be swung loosely around her neck, and turned to me, hands on her hips. "If it really is that easy like you say, why don't you play blocker instead? Personally, I'd love to see you try and stop anyone from getting through the wall. Last time I checked, you were the one bitching and whining about having to go against girls twice your size because it was so unfair. There was one condition to join the team, and that's pulling your own weight. If you can't do that, you're off the team. I can't afford to keep any flight risks around."

          I straightened, finally able to breathe properly. "Now you're just taking things personally. I criticized your position, so now you want to make me look unfit for the team. How mature."

          "Appropriate retribution. In case you haven't noticed, I take this team and roller derby very seriously, probably a lot more than everyone else on the team combined, and, one day, you'll all thank me for being a hardass. If you want softer treatment and coddling, go cry to Marley." She fixed her helmet. "When you care about something, you learn to take every insult and dismissive comment about it to heart."

          I didn't expect her to treat me any differently after Thanksgiving and, to be honest, I was glad she was being the regular Corinne, returning the favor by still being kind of nice, kind of an asshole at the same time. However, part of me wouldn't mind too much if she ever decided to drop the asshole part just a little bit as, sometimes, it got out of hand and what was supposed to be just banter ended up being mean.

          That hardly meant I wanted her to walk around eggshells around me or treat me like I was about to break in case this whole roller derby thing ended up not working out, much like figure skating after what I'd told her. I did expect her to be a bit more understanding and remember I was perfectly capable of pulling my own weight—something I'd done during the match against Quinnipiac and admirably so—and it wasn't fair to shrug it all off based on one comment that had offended her at a personal level.

          "I'm not dead weight," I insisted, marching behind her as she walked towards the bench to exchange her sneakers for her skates, "and I'm not a flight risk, whatever that means. Threatening to boot me off the team because of that is just petty."