25 | 25 in 5

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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.

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