Page 17

17

MADDOX

A m I obsessed? No. Can I stop thinking about Havoc? Also no.

I’ve convinced myself it’s normal to think about the girl I hate, my rival , this often. But as we lace up our skates, side-by-side in the locker room before our first bout as an official team, I can’t help but vibrate from camaraderie.

“How are you feeling?” MorningStar asks her.

“I’m so nervous. Leonard didn’t tell me who we were up against.” Her face is a little colorless, like the panic is very real.

“Wait, you just found out we were matched against the Siren Skaters?” Star looks pissed, her nostrils flared and her jaw set, like Leonard has finally crossed the one line for her.

She storms out of the locker room, and though I’m itching with curiosity, I don’t ask. Thankfully, I don’t have to, because DreadPool does it for me. “What’s wrong with that team?”

Vera looks uncomfortable. She stares off to the side, avoiding eye contact as she gets ready to explain “That’s?—”

Yaga cuts her off, answering for her instead. “Their pivot has a nasty little crush on Havoc.” She drops her elbow on top of Vera’s shoulder like she’s using it as an armrest.

Venice laughs from behind them. “That’s one way to put it. The bitch would lay Vera out on the track even if she didn’t have her skates on.”

Havoc shakes her head, looking down as she ties her laces. “She probably doesn’t even skate anymore. It’s been forever.”

“He’s such an asshole.” Feral pops the bubble on her gum as she slams her locker shut.

“No. I’m sure he didn’t know,” she defends him. “I can’t expect everyone to know all my business.”

She’s not wrong, but skaters should have been informed of who we’re bouting against long before the day of the bout. Vera should have been given the option to not skate today. There’s not a single part of me that thinks she would have sat this out, though.

“Are you gonna be okay?” K asks her, their hand at her elbow, forcing her to turn to face them.

She takes a deep breath, staring into K’s eyes before she nods.

K-Otic places a kiss on the top of her head, and there’s a small part of me that hates myself even more than before, because I can’t stand how watching that makes me feel. I clear my throat loudly, clicking the plastic of my wrist guards together before I stand and skate out of the locker room.

Bout Night is the only kind of chaos I crave. The rink is vibrating with energy. It looks great with the paint job, but it doesn’t look like Skatium anymore. The grit was part of the charm, and now, it looks…gentrified. Which is exactly the vibes Leonard exudes with his fancy reptile-skin shoes and baby blue suit.

He’s in the middle of the track, talking to one of the zebras, when I see Ira skating his way. The back of her shirt says “Coach” now. Not assistant coach. She deserves it, and if it’s the one positive change that comes from all of this, then I’ll celebrate it today. There’s always time to mourn tomorrow.

Every skater has filed out of the locker room now, standing behind the partition wall, waiting for the announcer to call our names. The visiting team always goes first, a kindness we bestow upon them. K and Havoc are at the front; as jammers, they’ll be called before the pivots and then the blockers.

“Give it up for Sav-otage! ” The pivot for the Sirens is called onto the track, and I see Vera stumble back. She’s shaking her head, and in a second, she’s skating right through the locker room doors again.

Star and K follow after her.

I follow them.

“No. No, I-I can’t. Not with Sav.” She’s laboring through the words.

Havoc’s sitting on the bench, her head between her legs as she takes in heavy drags of oxygen through her open mouth.

“Should I tell Leonard?” Star asks her, her hand making soothing circles on Havoc’s back.

“No,” I answer for her, causing all three heads to spin in my direction. “You’re not afraid of her. Let’s go skate.”

“I am afraid of her,” she corrects, her tone sharp, like she’s angry at me for not accepting it. “That bitch has sent me to the ER at least six times.”

“Yeah? Well, I hit harder, and yet here you are…still skating.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean on the door frame.

She’s staring at me blankly, like she’s thinking through it.

“It’s up to you,” K assures her.

“You’ve got my back?” The question is solely meant for me.

I should feel insulted. Fuck, I am insulted. A jammer asking their pivot if they have their back shouldn’t happen. It should be a given. But I’ve done nothing to convince her otherwise.

“Yeah, I’ve got your back, Mayhem.” I push the door open with one hand and gesture out to the track with my head. “Let’s go.”

She gives me a smile and nods, standing and skating past me just in time for the announcer to call her out.

“It’s the one, the only, Havoc!” The crowd cheers like they remember her, stomping their feet on the ground to make noise.

After K-Otic, I’m next, skating onto the track when he calls out for Mad Maddox. I take my place behind the pivot line next to Sav-otage. She doesn’t spare a second glance my way; she doesn’t need to. I’m the one sizing her up. I’m taller and my thighs are thicker, but we’ll just have to see how hard this chick really hits to make our jammer have that look on her face.

I look back at Havoc, past the crowd of blockers between us, to find her gaze locked directly on Sav-otage’s back. As if she feels the heat of my stare, she shifts to look my way. I give her a nod, a reminder of the promise I just made.

The referee blows the whistle, and we’re off.

I’m skating, but Sav-otage stays back, and just when Havoc is shoved into the wall of blockers, Sav hits her in the chest with her shoulder, sending her back. It’s illegal contact, but the zebra can’t see it, and every blocker on our team is too focused on clearing the opposing skaters. It’s not until the pack has left her behind that she’s able to get up. I’m skating backwards, lowering my speed so she can catch up, but just as I close in on her, Sav hip checks Havoc out of the boundaries of the track.

The Siren’s jammer gets the first points.

We assemble behind our designated lines and wait for the next whistle. I’m skating forward, but once again, Sav-otage is heading for Vera. I’m too used to jamming, too obsessed with going for the offense to interrupt the way this pivot skates. She has made Vera her target. It’s obvious.

Havoc is ready for her this time. I skate backwards into the line of blockers again, and with MorningStar’s help, I’m through, but not in time to prevent Sav-otage from throwing her elbow into our jammer’s chest. It sends her skidding on her ass over the track.

I pull my mouthguard out to yell, “REF!” I shout through the noise, but the zebra raises their hands up like they didn’t see anything.

Bullshit.

“That’s fucking illegal contact and you know it!” I’m skating toward the ref, who’s just now blowing the whistle on the jam.

“I didn’t see it.” The ref shakes her head.

“Then you’re the only one. Go get your eyes checked before you miss some more calls,” I spit out, turning back to my line.

The zebra blows a warning whistle at me, like she has no problem dealing me a penalty for back talk even though she’s the one ignoring perfectly clear calls.

The Sirens’ pivot is already there, waiting for the next jam. She’s practically in Vera’s face, hovering in front of the jammer line with that smug fucking expression.

I want to be the one to wipe it off.

It doesn’t take much to knock Havoc off the track, but with every jam that passes, it becomes more evident that it’s not Sav’s goal to interrupt, detain, or get in her way. Her goal is to injure her. Every block, every check, every shove is delivered illegally and in a way that slowly leaves Havoc less and less able to defend.

It’s getting under my skin.

By halftime, the entire team is aware, Havoc is covered in rink rash and bruises, and Ira is pissed. With enough complaints, we sub out the zebra and get one of the side-line refs to switch out with her. It doesn’t help. Sav-otage plays dirty, and the only way to deal with players like that is to give them a taste of their own medicine.

We’re barely ahead, but we’re winning, which lets me know each jam is making the opposing pivot more and more desperate. All I need is for the ref to see it. The whistle blows again, and I time a hip check that sends her right off the track and buys me enough seconds to get to Vera before her.

She’s there, in a low squat, doing her best to stand-off against the Siren Skaters’ jammer as they smash their shoulders against each other. That’s when I really see it: the strength she has. She’s not weak. She’s small, sure, but she’s certainly not frail like I thought. I get behind Havoc and place my hands on her hips, sending her forward with all of my protection to keep her standing, regardless of who hits her.

With the push of my hands, she’s through the wall of blockers, grabbing MorningStar’s hand as I hone in on Sav-otage once more. I don’t have to guess; she’s headed for Havoc, but she’s so focused, she doesn’t see me coming, and my shoulder block sends her flying. I use the opportunity to get to the front of the pack, expecting to see our jammer through, but she hasn’t made it.

Vera is stuck, trying to wiggle through a solid wall of opposing blockers. It’s an impossible task, and Sav is headed for her again. Havoc’s gaze follows mine, and we both watch as the pivot inches closer, pushing DreadPool out of the way like she doesn’t even care about the rules anymore.

“Fuck,” Havoc shouts through her mouthguard, the frustration obvious, and we all feel it. “Maddox!” She demands my attention, and just as I turn back to face her, she’s pulling the star panty off her helmet. The jammer helmet cover. She extends her arm, and without thinking twice, I take it, sliding it over my stripe before the opposing team realizes we’re passing the star.

She’s passing the star.

In a second, I’m moving again, leaving the Siren’s blockers behind while I steal the win.

She passed the fucking star.

It’s not unheard of, a classic derby move, one that requires trust amongst all teammates. One that requires the jammer to give up all semblance of an ego in order to hand all the glory of the win to their teammate.

She cares more about us winning together than being the one responsible for it.

Once I make a full lap, I’m able to call the jam off and take points for us. Just as my hands move to my hip to signal the end of the jam, Sav-otage shoves Havoc off the track, full contact use of her hands on an opposing player’s body.

Havoc’s too stunned by the action to react properly. She tries to stand but doesn’t have the time to correct. Instead, she falls backwards, landing on her ass. She screams, and I catch a glimpse of Sav’s skate on her wrist.

It’s intentional. I know it is.

The ref sees it, blowing the whistle and calling the penalty, shoving Sav-otage in the box for the first time tonight. Dread and Yaga help Havoc off the track. Holding her wrist to her chest, she screams when Ira releases the Velcro straps of her wristguard. K-Otic steps on the track, grabbing the appropriate helmet covers and making the switch with Vera. Her pained sobs are loud, but Ira continues to examine the injury when the zebra blows the whistle for the next jam.

I try to keep my focus on the track, but I find my gaze constantly drifting to the bench, where Vera sits. The transition with K is seamless. We move in sync with each other and clear the track, whipping through the wall of blockers. Without the Siren’s precious pivot, we take the next jam without a hitch.

The penalty timer ends, and Sav-otage moves from the box to the bench, where her coach lays into her. I’ve disregarded the entire next jam now, skating on autopilot and hoping that K-Otic can carry the win with me doing the bare minimum. Maybe we’ve scored enough to have it in the bag regardless.

My focus is on the Siren Skaters’ pivot and her only.

Sav-otage throws her helmet on the ground and storms off, skating into the guest locker room without a care. I let the jam finish out before I pull the stripe off my head and toss it at Ira’s feet, indicating a substitute is needed.

I’m no longer in control of my own brain or skates.

There’s only one direction I’m being summoned in.