12 | hit it and quit it

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CHAPTER TWELVE | HIT IT AND QUIT IT

scoring 1 pass and then calling the jam off before the opposing jammer can get through the pack.

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          Corinne was exactly where I'd expected her to be.

          She was still sitting in the parking lot, while I refused to think about the possibility of her having been there all along, waiting for me, and rose from the ground as soon as she saw me. It didn't make much of a difference, as she was barely taller than the cars, but she was distinguishable from the gray background thanks to her hair.

          Fortunately, she didn't ask any questions when I stopped next to her, holding the helmet as though it was a tiny, fragile baby. I was certain it was written all over my face I hadn't had the best of times inside the clinic, but she was tactful enough to keep her mouth shut in front of my parents.

          We all just stood there, waiting for something. I waited for my parents to leave, refusing to look at them after the stunt my mother had just pulled, and they waited for me to introduce them and Corinne. Corinne herself was harder to read; I wasn't sure if she wanted to be introduced to my parents or if she, like me, just wanted to get the hell out of there.

          Then, miraculously, my father came through.

          "You must be Wren's friend," he said, reaching out a hand towards her.

          She blinked, surprised, but accepted the handshake. "In theory, yes. I'm Corinne."

          "Are you one of Wren's skating friends?" my mother asked. Neither of them bothered introducing themselves to her, with my mother not even attempting to greet her with a handshake. I didn't expect them to be nicer than what was strictly necessary, anyway; they were plenty of things, but amicable and sociable had never been one of them. "She doesn't talk much about her college friends."

          "I suppose." Corinne briefly glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "I'm the team captain."

          "Co-captain," I corrected. 

          She stiffened. "Yes, that."

          I momentarily felt bad for calling her out, especially in front of my parents, who she didn't even know, and while knowing just how personally she had taken being made the team's co-captain. It had just come out, courtesy of my tendency to run my mouth, and she didn't need to be looked down on by my parents. She stood her ground, regardless, whereas I knew I would have been a lot less graceful had our roles been reversed.

          "Wren doesn't talk much about skating anymore," my mother continued. I wasn't sure if she was still trying to rile me up, but I certainly wouldn't put it past her. I could only hope Corinne would see right through that and not take the bait, but, after I had ever so gently made her look bad, I shouldn't be pushing my luck. "What exactly . . . is it that you do?"

          "It's not the type of skating Wren was used to, that's for sure," Corinne remarked, playfully elbowing me in the ribs. "For example, it's a contact sport. I think Wren was used to spinning around and jumping by herself. No partners, right? Roller derby is a team sport and everyone is equally important. The entire team has to pull their own weight."

          "Isn't it . . . dangerous, though?"

         "We wear pads. Lots of padding. It's a matter of watching how you fall; you need to fall on your pads." She shrugged. "You're bound to get bruised and hurt regardless, but it's not dangerous. People know what they're signing up for, and they know they need to be careful, but I've always said roller derby isn't a sport made for the faint of heart. As long as you don't drag other people down along with you when you fall and you pull your weight and do your job, you're golden."

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