Chapter 37 Carson
CARSON
He’s not here.
I take my position on the pivot line at the back of the pack. Jax is beside me looking fierce, Mercedes in front of them. A vet named Spitfire is playing pivot at the front of the pack, rounding out the blocking lineup for our team. Madelyn is our jammer.
I make eye contact with each of them as we wait for the whistle to blow. I should be going over strategy and rules. I should be sizing up the opposing blockers, my fellow freshies and future teammates.
Instead, all I can think about is the fact that he’s not here.
I looked for him during warm-ups and when Violet, playing the role of announcer, introduced us to the crowd of our families and friends.
Grace and Wyatt are both here, wearing brand-new Bloomington Brawlers T-shirts.
Decker and Owen are with them, and Felix too, though I think he’s mostly here to check out the other skaters. He was eyeing Mercedes during warm-ups.
At first I figured Dan was just running late. That maybe his tattoo appointment ran over. But there weren’t any messages on my phone. I broke down and asked Grace if she’d heard anything from him, and the look on her face when she said no made me want to cry.
I’m half mad, half terrified that something awful has happened to him. Maybe he got in a car wreck or there was a carbon monoxide leak at the house. Maybe he was mugged, or maybe he’s just stuck in traffic.
A million possibilities fill my mind, ranging from mundane to horrifying, and I fixate on each one.
TWEEEEEEEET.
The whistle blows, and my body reacts, even if my brain doesn’t. Maude Forbid, blocking for the white team, can sense my distraction and immediately cracks me in the sternum with her shoulder.
I got down in a heap.
Shit. I need to get my head in the game.
I jump up onto my skates and take off, trying to catch up to the pack, just barely in front of the approaching jammers.
It’s embarrassing to be behind already, but when I glance over my shoulder, I realize that I’m in a perfect position to let Mercedes draft off me.
I catch her eye and give her a nod, then race forward, closing in on Maude from the outside.
Just like Violet taught me, I bend my knees and lead with my hip, popping up when I make contact to shove her to the inside of the track.
She goes down, and Mercedes sprints by, finding a hole in the front of the pack. The ref points at her and blows the whistle, awarding her lead jammer.
Unfortunately J’Nisha, the white team jammer, sneaks out of the pack right behind her, and it’s a foot race to get around the track and approach the back of the pack. I hustle to get to the front, because if J’Nisha manages to get her hips past mine, her team gets a point off of me.
Mercedes darts into the pack, tapping her hips to call off the jam.
The opening score is 1–0, black team.
I hit the team bench, my chest heaving. Violet is bench coaching for my team. She hustles over. “Maude woke you up right off the bat there,” she says, handing me my water bottle. “You recovered well. Keep your eyes open out there, okay?”
“Yup,” I say, and force myself not to look out into the stands.
“You okay?” Violet asks, knees bent so we’re eye-to-eye.
“Yup,” I say, hoping she’ll believe me.
I don’t think she does, but she knows better than to get into it now. Instead, she taps me on top of my helmet and moves down the line to send other skaters out onto the track.
I go back out in the fourth lineup, Jax by my side again.
I’m starting to block out Dan’s absence and really get into the game.
This time the two of us decide to try some partner blocking.
When Tilly, who’s jamming for the white team, hits the back of the pack, Jax and I form a wall of ass, holding her back while Mercedes, jamming for us again, whips around the outside with a helping hand from Jax.
We manage to hold Tilly back for almost a full lap, giving Mercedes the opportunity to score five points.
As we approach the half, everyone’s adrenaline is up.
I can hear Wyatt and Grace’s screams and Decker’s loud whistles, and they fuel me.
Despite my rough start, I’m in it now. Violet keeps sending Jax and me out together; our wall of ass is becoming a signature move.
My hips have come alive, and I’ve started taking down opposing jammers, smiling as I send them out of bounds.
I’m sweating and aching and smiling and having the time of my fucking life.
Almost.
There are just under two minutes left in the half when Violet sends me back out on the track. I line up against Maude again. She’s tried to take me down twice more, but each time I’ve shaken off her attacks.
I think I’m ready for her.
I don’t even see Madelyn coming.
She’s skinny but sharp. When her shoulder collides with mine, the pain is instantaneous. I make the tragic mistake of standing straight up in shock.
And that’s when Maude swoops in.
Her knees are bent, her ass low, but this time her hip doesn’t connect with mine. Instead she slides in front of me, tossing her shoulder back. It connects with my sternum, sending me backward just as Mercedes hits the pack. I try to catch myself, but it’s no use.
I go down.
Hard.
Mercedes tries to jump over me, a tangle of arms and legs on the floor, but she can’t get enough height and trips, her skate landing directly on my ankle.
I scream.