07 | rule 1

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CHAPTER SEVEN | RULE 1

don't be a douchebag. alternatively: the more experienced players rein in the big hits and sneaky tactics.

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          I was pretty convinced Corinne was just trying to mess with my head.

          She knew damn well I was as interested in joining the roller derby team as I would be in watching grass grow, which was exactly why she had dared me to try out. I wasn't used to skating on a rink that wasn't made of ice and using skates without sharp blades, so it would be hard to accept such a proposal. However, if I were to say no and sit right where I was, she'd point out I was scared and a coward. God knew I wouldn't be able to survive the sheer humiliation.

           She had me backed into a corner, with no way out, and she knew it. The smug smirk plastered on her lips was clear evidence of that, and I found myself wondering how someone so small could possibly be so annoying.

          As though she could read my mind, she giggled. "I mean, you don't have to do it if you're scared. Obviously." Some of the girls around her laughed at that comment as if she was a comedic genius. I was suddenly reminded of high school cliques. "I totally understand if you're scared of even trying, Wren, I really do. This isn't a sport made for the faint of heart."

          She wasn't funny. She was far from it, and I found it hard to believe this was the same person who drunkenly spilled the beans about her trauma in a small closet. It felt like I was dealing with two completely different people, and I couldn't understand why she felt the need to be this type of person whenever she was around her team. They already looked up to her and she was the captain, so she didn't have to prove her worth to them.

          Her mother, however . . .

          I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of taking out her frustration on me. It wasn't my fault that she hated her mother and the pressure on her shoulders, and I refused to be intimidated by her.

          I raised my chin then marched down the bleachers. I hadn't brought any equipment with me, simply because I didn't own any of it, and would have to borrow some, which I didn't want to do. I didn't want to be in debt to these people, especially Corinne's clique, but it wasn't like I could do anything about it. I cared about my safety and didn't want to bust a knee so early into the school year, or something.

          "You can find spare equipment in those boxes," Katrina said, in an apologetic tone. Even if she was ashamed, even if she was sorry, even if she felt bad, she had yet to intervene whenever Corinne was being particularly nasty, so her attitude didn't make me feel much. Maybe I'd feel guilty lately, as she didn't have anything to do with my ongoing feud with Corinne Fontaine, but, at the moment, my blood was boiling in my veins. "You'll need a helmet, elbow pads, wrist guards, knee pads, a mouth guard, and skates, obviously. The roller skates are on the shelves."

          I grabbed my protective gear, grumbling to myself through gritted teeth, and I forced myself to channel all this anger and use it to fuel my performance. That was what I always did back home, but I also had Jordan to keep me grounded. Here, there was no one to help me keep a cool head.

          Marley remembered no one had warmed up and no one was trying to pull a muscle or ruin a tendon, so Corinne's pettiness had to wait. It shouldn't be as painful to her as it seemed to be, but she kept finding new ways to shock me. She was then forced to ask everyone who wanted to try out to come join us, which helped me fade into the crowd and not do anything that would attract unnecessary attention to myself.

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