CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | 25 IN 5

the minimum skill requirement of skating 25 laps of the track in under 5 minutes.

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          "Will my legs ever go back to normal?" I asked Kat, as she handed me an ice pack for my thighs. They were far from being the most injured and sore part of my body—there was a massive bruise forming on my left hip—but I depended on them to do everything. "They feel like . . . blobs attached to my pelvis."

          "Oh, you poor baby," she joked. She wasn't in a much better state than me, having had to strain her body a lot harder than I had, but she wasn't being nearly as vocal about it. "You'll live, Wren. How many times will I have to remind you of that?"

          "Will I be able to feel my legs if I answer that correctly?"

          Kat playfully rolled her eyes, then disappeared into the hallway leading to the showers. It was just us in the locker room, as I'd been the only one lagging behind to ice my legs—and seriously considered going home to take an actual ice bath—and she'd stayed simply because she was Katrina Stone. I knew we'd have to leave eventually, especially me, seeing as my parents had bothered to come all the way here just to watch me skate, but I was mortified over the possibility of them seeing me in such a pitiful state.

          Corinne, too, but she was used to the post-game soreness. My problem with her seeing me all sweaty and gross was much more vanity and pride-funded than anything else.

          Things would be okay if I at least had the strength to stand and drag myself to the showers. Instead, all I could do was sit there with ice packs on my thighs as I waited for the worst part of the pain to dissipate, feeling pathetic all the while, furious at the limits of my own body.

          "Do you think there's still time for me to shower?" I asked, raising my voice so Kat could hear me above the running water.

          "It depends on how long you're willing to keep your parents waiting, I'd say," she commented. "Good thing you wouldn't be stealing my hot water. I'd drown you."

          "Like you'd ever do that to me."

          "Don't test me."

          I chuckled, then stepped into one of the shower stalls, closing the curtain behind me. The hot water stung when it hit my sore limbs and muscles, but I wouldn't be taking a cold shower right before running into Corinne, as it would be incredibly inappropriate. My whole body ached, and I had to press my knuckles against my mouth to prevent myself from wincing just from the mere gesture of leaning my back against the cold tiles.

          It was hardly the worst pain I'd ever felt, but it was also a reminder that we had nearly lost the bout thanks to my inability to stay focused. It was frustrating to give someone that much power over me, even if it was just Corinne, my friend, and I couldn't help but feel furious that I could have cost us the championship. Had Coach noticed my hesitation and had we lost the bout, following my Christmas outburst, I was certain she'd make the remainder of my senior year of college a living hell.

          I was happy I had other things to worry about besides that, but those things didn't make me feel that much better. Above everything else, I had Jordan as a main priority and was able to keep my head clear enough to know I was being stretched out too thin to keep up with all my responsibilities. If I were to lose roller derby, I'd be devastated, pissed at myself for losing this opportunity, but I'd still have more time and energy for other things.

          I didn't want to lose roller derby, though, and I recoiled in shame at my own thoughts. While Corinne was still reeling from the loss of the only thing that seemed to give her life meaning, I was making excuses to willingly let go of it. No wonder she hadn't liked me at first and was apprehensive to have me join the team; she'd probably seen it coming from a mile away, months before we even knew the implications my presence would have.

          "I'm headed off," Kat told me, as I turned off the water. She had probably already gotten dressed and I wouldn't hold her back. I could almost hear her stomach growling. "See you later?"

          "Sure," I replied, reaching out for a fluffy towel. Even the smallest of efforts proved to be too much, and I cowered in pain when the muscles in my torso complained from the stretch. "I need to distract my parents."

          "Go have dinner with them. Something warm. I promise I won't tell Coach."

          "What is she going to do? Kick me out?"

          "Very funny. I hope Corinne runs you over."

          I knew she would do it, so I didn't bother arguing otherwise.

          Once I heard Kat close the door behind her, I exited my stall, tiptoeing across the locker room towards my designated locker. My wet hair left a trail of droplets of water behind me, and I rushed to put on some clean underwear and a bra, no longer having to bother hiding under the towel. No men were allowed in the locker room, and we'd seen each other battered and bruised, but I was all alone. There was nothing to fear.

          "Thought you'd drowned for a second there."

          I jumped where I was, slamming an elbow against the locker, and the dull, metallic sound echoed around me. I instinctively reached out for my towel, contradicting my previous train of thought, and spotted Corinne a few feet away, sitting cross legged on the wooden bench I'd been occupying.

          My heart hammered against my chest, and I wondered if her mere presence in the room would ever make me stop feeling this way. It was ridiculous, I thought, how I couldn't stand the sight of her without my heartbeat instantly speeding up or my brain turning into mush. Her hair, shorter now, brushed against her shoulders, flowing softly whenever she breathed.

          That made one of us. I wasn't quite sure how to catch my breath.

          "You scared the living hell out of me," I blurted out.

          "I've been told my steps are quiet." She raised an eyebrow, noticing the towel. "No need for that. I've seen you in your underwear."

          "This is different."

          Corinne sighed. "I suppose so."

          It was different from changing in the middle of the rest of the team. We both were well aware of that fact.

          I couldn't quite tell if I was the only one feeling how electrically charged the air between us had turned and I was too scared to make any sudden moves and ruin it for the both of us, but I was shivering now and needed to get dressed before I got sick. Forcing myself to look away from her, I put on the rest of my clothes, feeling like I'd gotten a hug from the fabric, and whimpered as I sat back down to put on a pair of warm socks.

          "Are you injured?" she asked.

          "It's nothing serious, I don't think. I'm mostly sore."

          "I saw the bruises. You looked like you were struggling at first."

          I clenched my jaw, teeth gritted so tightly I feared they'd shatter into a million pieces, and wished I were able to hide my frustration a bit better. If there was anyone out there who gave good advice regarding roller derby, it was her, and not every piece of criticism came from a place of condescension. Sometimes, people just wanted to help.

          "I don't need you to rub it in my face. I got distracted and gave them a lead they shouldn't have had. It's fine." I shook my head, glad my hair provided me with some shelter from direct eye contact with her. I knew she was staring right at me, no longer looking down, and could feel her eyes boring into my skull. "I recovered and won us the bout. Wrenking Ball, remember?"

          "I'm not trying to attack you. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

          I risked a glance at her, finding her already looking back at me. After all the time I'd spent trying to convince her to accept people's help, there I was, being a hypocrite. My insides twisted as I remembered she was the one person who would understand my frustrations, but I wasn't sure how she'd take it once she knew she was the reason I'd gotten distracted. She certainly wouldn't take kindly to assume I was blaming her for nearly losing the bout.

          "I'm okay," I said. "Just sore. I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

          She shrugged. "That's understandable. I almost didn't come, but then I ran into your parents and they pretty much forced me to join them. It's not easy saying no to your mother."

          "How are you feeling, then?"

          Her shoulders drooped. "Oh, you know. It's strange being here but not being allowed to join you, but I suppose it's better than being banned from entering the rink. She can't forbid me from watching the bouts along with everyone else, but it's not like it doesn't hurt. Maybe being banned would feel better."

          "For what it's worth, you being here tonight meant a lot. To the team, I mean." She cocked her head to the side, smirking when she noticed the red flush on my cheeks—they were burning so much I wondered how my hair hadn't dried from it yet. Her eyes blazed with the kind of spark that had always drawn me in. "To me, too. Obviously. I know that's what you've been dying to hear this whole time. I won't let you suffer any longer."

          "That's the Wren I remember." She swung her legs over the edge of the bench, then rose to her feet. "Empty your schedule for Saturday. I don't care if there are any super important plans you have."

          "Why?"

          Corinne raised her chin, grin widening. "I'm taking you out."

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          Corinne's idea of taking me out could mean anything, really, and I didn't dare ask her if it was a date. For all I knew, she could easily be talking about fully knocking me out cold, knocking me unconscious, and I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't tell Kat where I was going, which was a mistake all by itself, but I didn't want things to potentially turn into something they weren't.

          "Thank you for having the decency to wear jeans," Corinne commented, handing me a helmet. I hadn't left her waiting for me for too long, but she'd already been sitting on her bike by the time I found her in the parking lot, looking as exasperated as ever. "Wasn't sure you needed the reminder that I drive a bike and you wouldn't be too comfortable."

          "Forgive me for wanting to look nice," I retorted. Yes, I'd remembered she drove a bike, as if she'd ever let me forget about it, and wouldn't dare to wear a skirt to ride on that stupid vehicle.

          "You always look nice."

          "Flattery isn't a good look on you."

          She scowled. "It's a genuine compliment. It wouldn't kill you to accept one."

          "Thank you, then." She rolled her eyes, then spun around to grip the rubber handles, a silent way of asking me to hurry. She only put on her helmet after I sat behind her, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't make things awkward thanks to the forced proximity, even though we'd done this dozens of times already. "Where are we going?"

          She sighed as she started the engine. "Promise you won't laugh?"

          "Why would I do that?"

          "I don't know. This sounded like a much better idea in my head, but then I started overthinking it and thought you might find it kind of . . . cheesy. I was kind of hoping it was something you'd be into, but, looking back, it's mostly self-serving. I miss skating, that's all. There's this skating rink I've been dying to check out, but never really had the time; now that there are empty slots in my weekly schedule . . ."

          She didn't wait for me to reply and drove away, letting the implications of this outing hang in the air.

          I didn't mind going out with her and I certainly didn't mind checking out a skating rink, especially since I knew how much she missed skating, but I worried about what it could do to her. Even if she got it out of her system, even if she enjoyed herself for the brief moments we were there, things would go back to normal as soon as we left, and she'd have to face a reality where she couldn't do it freely anymore. Driving all the way to this skating rink every day wasn't feasible.

          The skating rink looked ordinary on the outside, like any other I'd seen back in California, complete with neon signs and all, but I didn't have much time to think about it. The sky was dark, clouds so gray and heavy they looked like they could collapse on me at any given minute, and I didn't want to stand back and wait for the rain to pour, so I rushed to follow Corinne inside.

          She hesitated by the cashier, blankly staring at the track, already with people skating laps, and only reacted when I gave her a gentle push forward. Even when the cashier handed us two pairs of roller skates, she still didn't relax like she thought she would, but I'd seen it coming.

          "Come on," I told her, jumping into the rink first, and reached out a hand towards her. "You jump, I jump."

          "You jumped in first."

          "Well, yeah. If I were to wait for you to join me, we'd be staying here forever."

          Corinne, in spite of herself, looked like she might cry, but ultimately squared her shoulders and took my hand, sliding into the rink with ease. This was Corinne Fontaine, renowned college roller derby champion, and I wouldn't let her be scared of skating for the rest of her life. She wouldn't let me sit back and let her walk away from the one thing she cared about more than anything else in the world.

          She allowed herself a few moments to readjust to being on a track, to get reacquainted with the feeling of having wheels on the soles of her shoes, but, once she realized she was home, there was nothing that could go wrong.

          "Skate with me," she asked, never letting go of my hand. My heart was skipping every other beat at that point, so I figured it couldn't hurt to say yes. No one would bat an eye at the sight of us and, as long as she was cool with it, there was no reason for me to overthink it. The soft pressure of her hand in mine was enough.

          It was my first time skating with somebody else.

          It was much different from skating with the team, as I didn't have to worry about bringing anyone else down along with me in case I fell, and I had to balance the weight of two people. Corinne seemed to be struggling quite a bit with it as well, bumping into my shoulder more often than I'd expected her to, but she was relaxing and being a good sport.

          "If we both fall, I'm dragging you up by your hair," she told me.

          "You're the one bumping into me," I pointed out.

          "Oh, really?" Her shoulder pressed against mine once more, this time on purpose, lingering for longer, and my pulse flatlined. Corinne smirked, amused. "Would you look at that?"

          "What?"

          "I can feel your heartbeat." She raised our hands, lips brushing against the inside of my wrist, and I could have died right there. She knew that, and a long time had passed since I bothered to pretend I felt nothing. "Maybe taking you out was a good idea, after all."

          "Do you want to try skating by yourself for a bit?"

          She looked at me, head bopping slightly to the rhythm of the music blaring from the speakers. "No. This is fine. Is this fine?"

          "Why don't you ask my heartbeat for an answer?"

          Corinne's laugh could get carved into my bones, I thought, and I wouldn't mind.

          She tugged me closer this time so we could try and match each other's pace, which got harder whenever we had to make a turn. I'd slow down while she'd try to pick up some speed, which, joined by my inability to behave properly when she was around, ended in disaster. She was still having fun, though, even when I had to cling to her waist with both arms to avoid falling flat on my face.

          The giant mirrorball above our heads reflected the colorful lights scattered around the rink, creating rainbows on her hair whenever it hit her, and, if I didn't have to stare straight ahead to watch where I was going, I would have stopped to stare at her, mesmerized.

          She almost looked like she was falling in love with skating all over again. I was falling in love with her, especially when she looked back at me over her shoulder, lips twisted into the most genuine smile I'd ever seen her wear.

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          Our fun had to end eventually, as we needed to get back to campus before the weather got so bad Corinne couldn't drive safely.

          The rain was heavier, more violent than I'd initially thought, and I cowered back against the door in a feeble attempt to shield myself from the bad weather. Corinne scowled at the sky, like that would change anything, and stepped out from under the roof to measure just how strong the drops were. When she returned to me, she was absolutely soaked.

          "I hope you got your answer," I told her. "We're pretty much stranded here until the rain eases up."

          "Hard pass. I don't want to stay here for longer than I absolutely need to." She grimaced, glancing at the neon signs from the corner of her eye. "I don't want to be here anymore."

          She was bitter now, angrier, and it wasn't the kind of rage that made her beautiful. It was the kind of rage she used to mask her hurt, and she was doing it the way she knew best—she was pushing me away, now that I'd seen her look so vulnerable. I didn't know how to get through to her, but I sure as hell needed to keep trying.

          "Can't you just talk to me instead of keeping your feelings to yourself?"

          She scowled. "Talk to you about what?"

          "You never finished what you were saying before we left campus. You miss skating, and so what? Why are you embarrassed by that? It's normal, Corinne. It's okay to be hurt." I took a hesitant step forward, standing in the pouring rain just to be closer to her, and it felt like she was still slipping away from me. "You're trying to push me away, but that's not going to work anymore. You can't drive when the weather's like this, so you might as well say what's on your mind."

          "I don't need to tell you—"

          "Why not? We're friends, right? Friends talk to each other about how they feel. They lean on each other for support. I thought that, by now, you would have gotten the point."

          Corinne scoffed. "Friends. Sure. We're friends now."

          "Are you serious right now? You're taking it all back?"

          "Did that"—she pointed to the front door—"seemed like us being friends to you? Are you really that dense? Or are you just trying to trick me into saying something stupid you can use as leverage later on?"

          "Leverage? Do you ever stop to think about the words that come out of your mouth sometimes or does it just keep running and running?" Her eyes darkened, narrowed, and her mood seemed to worsen with the weather and the longer this conversation went, but I wasn't backing down now. The more I made her talk, the easier it was for her to see that she could let her walls down around me. "You're my friend, Corinne, whether you like it or not."

          Corinne's face was flushed red with anger now, even when she took a deep breath. "I don't want to be friends with you."

          I stepped back, hurt crossing me right through the heart, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from her. Even when I knew she was just saying those things because she, too, was hurting, even when I knew she didn't really mean it, I felt so weak for allowing myself to be baited. I hated that I cared.

          That was the girl I was falling in love with. That was the girl who was saying she didn't even want me around.

          "Fine," I croaked out. "We won't be friends anymore. I won't bother you."

          "Wren."

          "No, it's okay." I swallowed the lump in my throat, hot tears scorching the corners of my eyes. At least she wouldn't be able to tell the difference between them and the rain droplets. "It's okay. I'll handle it."

          "Wren."

          "What?"

          "You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid."

          The world stopped spinning.

          I stared at her, trying to figure out whether it was yet another one of her snarky comments, but she was still huffing and puffing in anger, and I was still aching from her previous words, and I couldn't ever be sure.

          "Screw you," I muttered, trying to walk past her, but she pulled me back by an arm. When I turned around to free myself from her grip, her movements were faster than mine and her hands cupped my face between them, surprisingly warm for someone who had been standing in the rain for as long as she had. "What are you going to do? Headbutt me?"

          "This is us not being friends. Just so you know."

          "Duly noted. If you'll excuse me—"

          She didn't. Instead, she spun me around so my back was, once more, turned to the wall of the skating rink, and her lips crashed into mine like a tidal wave.

          My skin sizzled and boiled wherever she touched me, even over my clothes, and I clung to her for dear life, like there was still any way of pulling her even closer. My hands gripped her arms, then her waist, and my back was awkwardly pressed against the harsh bricks of the wall, but the feelings of discomfort quickly faded into the background.

          When I kissed her back, I felt her smiling against my mouth, lips parting to allow entrance to my tongue. I'd never been much of a religious person, but kissing Corinne Fontaine was the closest thing to a miracle I'd ever witnessed and, as soon as I shut down my brain and let myself enjoy the moment, my soul fully left my body. When she kissed me, I felt like the whole universe had stopped just for us and there was no one else, nothing else that mattered but me and her.

          And she knew. She knew, of course she knew, and was so gentle with me, feather-light lips brushing against my neck that it heightened all my senses. Every movement she made pulled me towards her, even when she was just trying to find a better angle, and I was so electrified by her touch that I nearly burst into flames.

          When she backed away for breath, I knew I couldn't ruin things. I still opened my stupid mouth, like an idiot, but she was right there, still flushed, lips slightly swollen, and everything I wanted to say vanished with the wind.

          She rested her forehead against mine, sighing, then bent down to pick up my helmet. It was quickly pressed against my stomach, like she'd done all those months ago, and the irony of it wasn't lost. "We need to go."

          With that, she walked away, leaving me behind, dumbfounded.

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for the ppl who complained about the slow burn: hope this was slow enough for ya. mwah