The Cheerleader's Guide to Roller Derby

Chapter Twenty Eight: The Gauntlet

The pimple on my forehead grew a baby zit overnight. To compensate, I paid special attention to my clothing, shoes and hair the next morning. I stepped back from the mirror and gave the image a nod of approval. That was a girl who looked confident. Now, if I could only make my inside match my outside.

Traci didn't notice the colonization of my forehead. She also didn't seem to notice my outfit, or the extra shimmer in my hair, even after I blatantly tossed it in front of her. In fact, Traci didn't seem to notice much at all. Like the Friday before, she kept her eyes on her phone. But this time it wasn't an influx of texts she was monitoring, instead she was totally absorbed by a game of Sugar Slam. Oh well, at least she was dressed a little better than the day before. Though why she picked a turtleneck tunic to wear on the warmest morning we'd had so far this year ... eh, who knows?

Even stranger, once we'd entered the school building and stopped by our lockers, she turned in the opposite direction of the lobby. When I touched her shoulder to remind her that we needed to go the other way, she jumped.

"I think I should probably go check on the homework I missed. You go ahead," she said.

I'd like to be able to tell you that what motivated me next was total empathy, but that would be a lie. I needed to see and be seen that morning if I was going to choose a target date for prom, but I'd counted on Traci's help with that. She might not be perfect BFF material but she was a talented wingman, er, wing...woman.

More than that though, I didn't want to face the whole school by myself. I mean, sure, I could pick a group of cheerleaders and stand by them, but lately, when I was surrounded by my former cheer squad-mates, I felt even more alone. "I'll go with you," I said.

When she climbed the stairs, then passed by two of the classes she'd missed, I knew there was something else going on. We'd gone down the other set of steps and made a complete circuit around the school by the time Traci slowed her steps. Was she avoiding the gauntlet?

The gauntlet was the name some kids had for the space in our school that was equally distant from the cafeteria, the gym, and the girls bathroom. It was serious A-List territory, a danger zone to the lesser thans. It was also Traci's natural habitat. If she didn't feel safe strolling through it, then something was horribly wrong.

"Traci," I said when she'd come to a full stop. "What's going on?"

I know she wanted to tell me it was nothing. If she could have, she would have shaken it off with one of those dazzling prom-court-worthy smiles. But whatever had happened was enough to make that impossible. Tears welled in her eyes.

I guided her to the space under the stairwell. Luckily, it was free of make out artists that morning. "Is this about Friday night?" I asked. She didn't answer, didn't even look at me. "Because I already heard all about it."

"You did?" she said, just before something that sounded a lot like a sob escaped her throat.

"Well, not all about it. Anyway, you don't need to worry about me being judge-y. If you want to audition for a prom date with R.J., I guess that's your decision." 

I felt sorry for her, I did. That didn't mean I was able to keep the disgust out of my voice when I said R.J.'s name. Frankly, it made me feel like throwing up a little bit, just thinking about him.

It apparently made Traci feel like doing something else, and that something was shaking me. Hard. No really. She dropped her books, grabbed me by both my arms, and violently pulled me back and forth -- two, maybe three times. "If I want to do what?" she said, her voice getting a little loud. "If I want to do what?!"

"You know," I said.

But I guess she didn't know.

"I heard you disappeared with R.J. at the party Friday night. No one could find you when it was time to go home either. And then I guess R.J. posted something on his social media page the next morning. And, well, he was the one who gave you a ride to the bunker Saturday morning. But, hey, you're a big girl, and if you feel like you need to give R.J. a preview of coming attractions, don't think I -- "

All doubts that Traci had derby girl material within her vanished in a moment. The shove she gave me sent me flying against the back wall of the stairwell.

In addition to that stuff I said about empathy earlier, I would like to be able to say that the next thing I did was to take the high road. I'd like to say that I recognized Traci's move against me came out of frustration regarding some horrible misjustice, and that I sought to comfort and sooth her.

Yeah, right.

I shoved her back.

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