Knee Pads

21 | expulsion

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | EXPULSION

to remove a skater from the remainder of the game for serious physical violence or any action deemed by the officials to cause an extraordinary physical threat to others.

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          Kat hadn't left that long before me and I hadn't spent that much time staring at a closed door, so I knew I'd catch up to her in no time.

          Though it pained me to turn my back on Corinne when I knew she needed someone, I didn't want to risk losing Kat for good, especially on her special day, a day when she should be celebrated instead of dismissed. Sincerely hoping Corinne was safe in her room and not a danger to herself or others—she could very well be, knowing her—I promised myself I'd stop by the following day once the dust settled.

          Kat was in the room by the time I got there, standing in front of her vanity mirror to take off her earrings, and didn't turn around when I closed the door. Instead, she stared at my reflection.

          "You came back," she said. I nodded, tossing my jacket to my bed. "Did Corinne not open the door? I'm sorry. I really thought she would; I tried asking her to give people a chance, but—"

           "I came back for you," I clarified, purposefully ignoring that last comment. If she thought she was doing either me or Corinne a favor by trying to force us to speak to each other, it wouldn't work; both of us were too full of pride to bend even the slightest bit. For all I knew, she was currently stuffing her face with alcohol as though it would solve anything or make it hurt any less, but I knew—I knew!—it would just be a temporary fix. "I wanted to spend time with you. You just won the Winter Showcase."

          She flashed me a tight-lipped smile. "It really isn't that big of a deal."

          The fact that she was trying to downplay her achievements shattered me.

          That just made the reality dawn on me so much harder—there was so much I didn't know about my own roommate, my friend, and I'd never bothered to ask because I expected to have more time with her, or maybe I never thought it was that important. The way she'd carried herself on that stage, with poise and confidence, like she already knew she was going to win the Showcase, had nothing to do with the person standing in front of me now. Hadn't she called me out after the match with Hartford, back when I was second guessing myself?

          "It is a big deal," I insisted, hopping to my bed and sitting with a leg beneath me. "I want to hear all about it. How are you feeling? Are you writing other songs? What comes next for you besides total world domination?"

          That brought a genuine smile to her lips, which meant she wasn't nearly as mad at me as I'd assumed she was, but I was still not out of the woods yet. "I mean it; it's not that big of a deal in the greater scheme of things. I've won one Showcase; I know people who won all eight when they were in college. This means nothing to me."

          "It means something to me. I want to see you succeed."

          "Fine. I'll bite. What do you want from me? I can tell you're trying to suck up to me."

          I patted the empty space next to me on the bed and she sat there, crossing her legs over my blue duvet. "I want us to be friends. I think you think I only hang out with you whenever Corinne is unavailable or mad at me and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel left out, but I never meant to do that." Words were just words and intentions didn't necessarily translate into actions, but I needed her to know I'd never meant to hurt her, even though I did. She was my derby wife through and through, not just my roommate, not just a fleeting moment in my life I'd forget in a few years, and that had to count for something. "I don't want you to feel the need to keep these moments to yourself. I'm here for you." I reached out for one of her hands, glad she didn't shrug it away. "Let's be here for each other."