Hell's Belles Page 2

  Just yesterday, in fact, Lexie had gotten a B+ on a science quiz and exclaimed to Annie that the high score had her “utterly gobsmacked.” Annie laughed now, remembering how funny the word had sounded in Lexie’s Midwestern accent.

  Strange how things turn out, she thought.

  As she rounded the corner that put her on the road leading to the rink, Annie felt a thrill of anticipation. She was minutes away from getting bumped, shoved, and potentially flung into a wall.

  And she couldn’t be happier about it!

  “’Sup, Anne R. Key?”

  Annie smiled when she heard the friendly greeting from across the lobby. Anne R. Key was her roller derby name, chosen in homage to the Sex Pistols song “Anarchy in the UK.” She glanced over and saw a familiar mop of shaggy black hair behind the rental counter. Jesse was manning the booth, as always.

  “Not much,” she replied, waving. She rolled skillfully across the worn carpet and leaned her elbows on the counter. “What’s up with you?”

  Jesse plonked a pair of battered quad skates on the counter for Annie. She couldn’t wear her Rollerblades to play roller derby.

  “Just getting some music together for the next bout,” he said, showing her his iPod. True to form, he’d downloaded some great old Runaways tunes, a couple of Elvis Costello classics, and an entire B-52s album.

  “Mainstream punk,” he observed, then chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “That’s kind of a contradiction in terms, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I know exactly what you mean.” These were the names everyone thought of when they heard the term “punk rock.” But Jesse, like Annie, had a far broader frame of musical reference. They were both fans of lesser-known bands like Black Flag and Meat Puppets. It was one of the things she really liked about him.

  Coach Ritter blew her whistle, signaling that it was time to warm up.

  “Hey,” said Jesse, as Annie pushed off on her skates. “You really were awesome in last week’s bout against the Derby Dolls.”

  Annie laughed. “More like the Derby Dulls! But thanks. It was a great start, but we’ve still got a long way to go if we want to be league champs.” She motioned to where the rest of the Liberty Belles were falling into line. “Which is why I’d better get moving.”

  As she skated away to join her teammates, she felt Jesse’s eyes following her the whole way. He’s a good friend, she thought. Always looking out for me. She joined the others and took her place beside Lauren.

  Lauren DeMarco was a freshman, like Annie, and also new to the world of roller derby.

  Lauren was Annie’s “derby wife.” Annie had found that term a little peculiar when she’d first heard it. But she’d soon learned that it was just a funny way to describe a teammate who always had your back.

  Another team, the High Rollers, was practicing on the track. The noise of their collective wheels going around and around echoed through the rink, sounding like the growling of some enormous beast.

  “Everybody down on the floor to stretch out,” Liz, the team captain, directed.

  Obediently, Annie, Lauren, and the others lowered themselves to the carpet. It was old and filthy and smelled horrid.

  “I try not to think about what this carpet might be contaminated with,” Lauren whispered, wrinkling her nose.

  “I know what you mean,” Annie replied. “It’s hard to know what’s scarier — the High Rollers or whatever germs might be festering in this nasty old carpet.”

  Lauren gave an exaggerated sniff toward the grimy carpet pile. “Smells like some kind of fungus to me.”

  “Oh no!” Annie squealed in mock horror. “There’s a fungus among us!”

  “Oh, please!” Holly rolled her eyes and laughed. “A real roller girl wouldn’t be put off by something as harmless as a little mold, Princess.” Holly liked to tease Annie with the nickname Princess because of her slight resemblance to Kate Middleton.

  “Mold or no mold,” said Liz, “never underestimate the importance of a good stretching warm-up.” She reached forward over her long, muscular legs to touch the toes of her skates. “Loosen up those quadriceps, and stretch out those hip flexors. The more limber you are, the less likely you’ll be to pull a muscle.”

  Annie knew that was true of every sport. Ten years of gymnastics had hammered that into her. Without so much as a grunt of discomfort, she arranged her legs into a wide straddle and pressed her torso outward until her chest and ribcage were flat against the floor.

  A few of the other girls attempted to copy her stretch. Their efforts yielded moans of pain.

  “I could try forever,” Lauren said with a sigh. “I’ll never be that flexible.”

  “Well, it took me years to get this bendy,” Annie said modestly. “And my bony bum isn’t great for blocking. But that’s what I like about derby. Roller girls come in all shapes and sizes.”

  Lauren gave Annie a grateful smile. “My mom is always telling me I’d look a lot better if I dropped a few pounds.”

  “I used to wish I could be petite like the girls I used to do gymnastics with,” Annie replied. “I guess everyone feels self-conscious about something.”

  “I guess it’s partly my own fault,” Lauren said. “I mean, I have been going a little heavy on the Oreos and French fries lately.” She shrugged. “You know. So I don’t look good in skinny jeans. But my extra pounds come in handy when I’m blocking. I know I should be more careful about eating junk food, though. It’s just plain unhealthy — and one of the reasons I tried out for the team was to get more healthy.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got the right attitude,” Coach Ritter said with a grin. “Food is fuel. And the way we work ourselves around here, you girls need to be sure you’re getting enough, and the right sort. The bottom line is, skinny jeans will eventually go out of fashion, but being healthy is always in style. If you’d like, we can bring in a nutritionist to educate us all about good dietary choices.”

  Lauren nodded, smiling. “That would be really helpful, Coach. Thanks.”

  “Okay, everybody, less talking, more stretching,” Liz teased.

  As Annie shifted into another difficult stretch, she thought about all the delicious treats at Rosie Lee’s, and how easy it was to just grab a muffin or cookie whenever her stomach started to growl. She decided she was going to have to make a bigger effort to include healthier foods in her diet. Not because she needed to lose any weight, but just because it would be better for her body in general.

  Coach was blowing her whistle again — it was time to skate.

  The Belles waited while the High Rollers clambered off the track for their break. Annie could see their faces glistening with sweat. They were all breathing heavily after such an intense workout, but there was a gleam in their eyes that said these girls meant business.

  Up close, it became clear that their team name was appropriate — the High Rollers had height on their side. One or two of them were even as tall as Annie.

  The High Rollers were soon assembled in a tight huddle near the wall. When the Liberty Belles had convened on the track, the Rollers broke into a loud chant, clapping in time and shouting at the top of their lungs:

  WE’RE GONNA SCREAM, WE’RE GONNA YELL,

  WE’VE GOT A TEAM THAT FIGHTS LIKE HELL!

  WE’RE GONNA JAM, WE’RE GONNA PASS,

  NOT GONNA STOP TILL WE KICK YOUR —

  But instead of chanting the final word, the entire squad turned in unison, stuck out their backsides, and gave them a loud smack!

  “Get ready to have your butts kicked this weekend!” called the tallest girl.

  “Okay, Rollers, team meeting in the locker room,” said their captain. Then she gave a loud whoop and they all skated off toward the lockers in a cheering, laughing herd.

  “Well, aren’t they creative,” sneered Holly, strapping her helmet on over her bright crimson
hair. “That was downright poetic.”

  “They have a right to be cocky,” Liz observed. “They did win the league last season.”

  “Cocky schmocky,” said Sharmila, tossing her long black hair and raising an eyebrow. “Someone needs to teach the High Rollers some manners!” Then she waved her hand in front of her face and wrinkled her perfect nose in faux disgust. “And let’s be honest, girls. A lesson in how to apply deodorant wouldn’t hurt either.”

  “They may smell bad,” Carmen said with a sigh, “but their derby skills don’t stink.”

  “C’mon, everybody, let’s skate,” said Holly. “If we’re going to beat those arrogant jerks, we’ve got to practice.”

  “Vámonos!” agreed Carmen. “I’ve got to cut out early for my shift at the store. My dad will flip if I’m late.”

  Practice began with the girls skating several laps, just to get their legs warm. But the High Rollers’ taunts had really fired them up and the Liberty Belles’ energy practically crackled in the air. Annie felt like she was part of a big, ominous thundercloud as she and her teammates circled the track. She was careful to concentrate on her form, keeping her stance low and wide for stability, with her knees deeply bent and her bum lifted as high as she could get it.

  After a few laps, she could feel her lower back protesting with an ache that radiated throughout her entire core. She’d been working underused muscles and she was feeling it. Her thighs burned, too. Even though Annie was in good shape from gymnastics, roller derby required a completely different kind of strength. She was demanding new things of her body, but the pain was strangely satisfying.

  Coach Ritter gave a blast on her whistle. “Pace line,” she directed.

  The girls easily arranged themselves into a tidy single-file line.

  Annie giggled, thinking that derby had its own kind of supercharged choreography.

  Annie found herself bringing up the rear, but that was actually good news. As last in line, she would be the first to execute the drill, which consisted of weaving in and out of the swiftly moving line, like a human slalom course.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got, Turner,” Coach hollered.

  Annie didn’t have to be told twice. She picked up speed, gaining on the girl directly in front of her, who happened to be Sharmila.

  With her glossy raven-colored hair and striking green eyes, Sharmila was one of the prettiest girls on the team, but she was every bit as tough on the track as her derby name — Sharmila the Hun — suggested.

  Annie deftly cut in front of Sharmila and just as quickly darted out and forward, weaving back into line behind Carmen.

  Carmen Atcha’s eyes were as dark as the expensive cocoa Dad used to make his chocolate torte, and they positively sparkled with mischief.

  “Hasta la vista, señorita!” Annie called as she flew past.

  Carmen laughed. “Your accent needs work, chica,” she hollered back. “You sound like Kate Middleton ordering tacos at Taco Bell!”

  Annie grinned as she continued her fluid weaving motion, in and out, down the line. She came up on Holly, who was in the zone, her head low, her eyes straight ahead. Picking up her speed a bit, Annie wove past her red-haired teammate.

  Liz was at the head of the line.

  Annie approached, noting the definition of the muscles in her captain’s arms and calves. Liz looked over her shoulder and grinned, showing Annie her chipped front tooth. She was waiting until after derby season to get it fixed.

  She’d told the team she thought the broken tooth made her look dangerous. But with such a friendly face, Liz was about the least scary-looking person Annie knew.

  Now, Annie bent low and glided fast, rounding her captain in a smooth sweep to get in front and take the lead.

  “Not bad for a freshman,” Liz teased. “And a British freshman at that!”

  “Hey! I’m half American!” Annie called over her shoulder.

  “That must be the half that can skate!” Liz yelled back.

  The pace line continued until each Belle had had her turn weaving in and out and Annie was once again last in line.

  They spent the next several minutes doing hot laps for speed training. Annie was exuberant, flying around the track as though she had wings on her skates. Only Liz and Holly could keep up with her speed.

  When Coach finally called a break, Annie’s heart was pounding and she was a sticky, sweaty mess. So was everyone else.

  Lauren T-stopped beside Annie and wiped her damp brow with the back of her hand. They followed a handful of Belles to the water fountain and waited their turns.

  Annie had just finished drinking when she heard chanting coming from the far end of the rink. She looked up to see the High Rollers approaching from the locker room, ready for the second half of their practice.

  TWO, FOUR, SIX, EIGHT . . .

  WHO WILL WE ASSASSINATE?

  BELLES!

  BELLES!

  “Don’t they ever quit?” Lauren muttered.

  The answer, apparently, was no, because the High Rollers went right on cheering:

  TWO, FOUR, SIX, EIGHT . . .

  MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEARN TO SKATE!

  EIGHT, SIX, FOUR, TWO . . .

  WE CAN MOP THE FLOOR WITH YOU!

  But surprisingly, Holly didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she turned serenely to her teammates and said, “You know, there are really only two kinds of roller girl. The ones who are Liberty Belles . . . and the ones who want to be!”

  At that, the whole Liberty Belle team sent up a boisterous cheer.

  Then Coach Ritter and the High Rollers’ coach (whose jacket was embroidered with the name “Slammy Tammy”) appeared.

  Both women were smiling.

  “You ladies certainly talk the talk,” said Coach Ritter. “We were thinking maybe you’d like to walk the walk. Or maybe I should say, skate the skate.”

  Holly’s eyes lit up. “You mean a scrimmage?”

  Coach Tammy nodded. “That’s right. Right here, right now.”

  “Bring it!” snarled the tall High Rollers girl, punching the air with a fist. When she turned to skate toward the track, Annie noticed the name on her shirt read “Dee Stroyer.”

  Clever.

  And scary.

  After some quick pre-bout strategy, the Belles took to the track. For the first jam, Annie would start as a blocker. Holly was jammer, and Liz was playing pivot.

  Although there were rarely spectators at practice, Annie was suddenly aware of someone leaning over the side of the track. She glanced up to see Jesse.

  “Hey, Jesse, will you keep time?” called Coach Ritter.

  “Sure thing, Coach,” Jesse said. He nodded and pulled a stopwatch out of his pocket. Then he patted Annie’s shoulder in an encouraging way as she skated off.

  “Too bad you’re gonna get creamed in front of your boyfriend,” Dee Stroyer teased Annie, pointing in Jesse’s direction and laughing as she took her position with the other blockers.

  Annie rolled her eyes. She decided this wasn’t the time or the place to inform Dee that she and Jesse were just friends. Instead of taking the time to put Dee Stroyer in her place, Annie forced herself to focus on the task at hand, which was to block her opponents and help Holly to score.

  And, of course, to not get killed in the bargain.

  “You’re going down, Belles,” sneered one High Roller.

  “And it ain’t gonna be pretty,” her teammate added.

  In the next second, the rink fell still. And then . . .

  The ref’s whistle blew and the scrimmage began. The moment Annie saw her chance, she flung herself hard in the path of the High Rollers’ jammer but was expertly blocked by Dee Stroyer.

  By some miracle, though, Holly plowed through the pack. On Holly’s next lap around, Annie and her teammates created a gap so that
their jammer could sneak through, pass four High Rollers, and score four points.

  As the High Rollers’ jammer approached the pack, Holly slapped her hands against her hips, calling off the jam so that their opponents couldn’t score any points. Then Coach Ritter pointed to Annie, and Holly passed the starred helmet panty to her.

  For one millisecond Annie felt a thrill of excitement as she stretched the jammer’s cover over her helmet. But the thrill of acting as the jammer quickly turned to panic when she saw who was lining up beside her.

  “Shouldn’t you be home eating crumpets?” Dee snickered as she took her place next to Annie on the jammer line.

  Annie willed herself to fire off a rude retort, but her mind was utterly blank. When the ref’s whistle sounded, both girls took off like a shot, running on their toe stops. But as Annie skated around the track, her mind raced with all the comebacks she’d been too slow to think of. Taking advantage of Annie’s distraction, Dee blocked her with a particularly vicious hip check low down on her thigh, sending her out of bounds.

  In the next second, Annie was sprawled on her stomach, stunned. She waited for the ref’s whistle, but it didn’t come. The coaches must not have noticed where Dee had hit her — anything above the shoulders or below mid-thigh was illegal. Angry and embarrassed, Annie scrambled to her feet and stumbled back onto the track.

  Annie managed to catch up with the pack, but by then, Dee Stroyer had easily taken the lead, passed through the pack a second time, scored five points, and called off the jam. Watching her high-five her teammates made Annie seethe.

  Shake it off, she told herself. Don’t let that nasty girl get to you!

  Even though it was just a scrimmage, neither team showed any mercy. There was a fair amount of bruising before Coach Ritter finally signaled the end of practice.

  “47-47,” Slammy Tammy announced. “Good work, ladies. Based on what I saw today, I’m thinking our real bout will be a close one.”

  The teams went off to the locker room, exhausted, but more revved up than ever for the bout that weekend. Holly actually used the term “blood bath.”