Authors: Victoria H. Smith
Griffin
The scrimmage was bullshit tonight, and my team was playing like they had a set of lead feet with a stick permanently lodged up their asses. Thank God Coach couldn’t see this crap. He and two of our assistant coaches were away for an overnight conference, so I took over the practice with our remaining assistant coach. Practice tonight was optional due to the conference, but I stepped up and did what I had to do. I figured that was my job as captain, but I was regretting the decision as I watched my teammates’ lack of hustle.
I pushed the sweat I gathered from my frustrations up into my hair. Blowing my whistle, I called this shit a night. With the “thank the fucking God’s” spewing from the lips of my teammates, I knew I wasn’t the only one ready to go. Word was going around of a party tonight, and I knew where most of them would be heading by tonight’s end.
My place. They were always at my place thanks to my roommates and fellow players. I did
not
feel up for that, but I usually didn’t get a choice in the matter. Calling it an early night tonight would allow the guys extra time to get their booze and girls, so I got a lot of gleeful grins and pats on the back as we all headed to the showers. D, my co-captain and one of my roommates, confirmed the location of the party as I was pushing soap through my hair. He was one of those bright-eyed kids, a grinning fool. He told me once that he came from the South Side of Chicago. With myself being from some pretty rough neighborhoods in the South, I felt we had a connection there. Brothers from another mother.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I told him. I always was—unfortunately. People expected it, so what was I gonna do but go.
“Cool, cool,” he said, rinsing the soap off his bald fade haircut. “Ursula and Tanya will be there, too. They’re bringing some of their crew.”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of my former fuck buddy, Ursula, and my on again, off again
ex
-girlfriend, Tanya. Only in America would two girls that fucked me go to the same party—as friends—and mingle with the guy they fucked. Only in America.
“And, uh, Candie,” D continued, flashing white teeth that were brought out even more by his dark skin.
That was when I gave him my full attention. “I told you I’m not accepting any more of those, man. I’m done with that shit and don’t want to associate with it.”
One thing I learned about college basketball: when powerful people wanted you to win, they did whatever they could. That included gifts. Lots and lots of gifts. Being naïve and young
and
poor, I accepted a few over my four years. Tickets to games, Spring Break trips… prostitutes. It wasn’t something I was proud of, and it was all a bunch of mess that could really fuck up our futures in the long run. D knew that, which was why I thought he stopped as well.
He turned off his faucet and grabbed a towel, covering himself. “I know, Griff. She ain’t workin’. Just coming for a good time. If that leads to something, then well…”
He wagged his eyebrows, and I shook my head, giving a short laugh. “Good,” I said to him. “I’ll see you there.”
He made to move away, but I thought about something, turning off my faucet. “Hey, you haven’t heard anything about anyone else accepting gifts, have you?”
Now that I was running this team, I made sure my men knew the consequences of accepting such gifts. Them getting into trouble wouldn’t affect just them; the whole team’s name could be dragged through the mud if painted with a scandal.
D leaned on the divider of our showers. “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”
Visions went back to that night I was confronted by those guys outside the laundry mat, but the whole idea of members of our team potentially up to something shady during our games seemed too ludicrous to even entertain. Those dudes were just a bunch of angry thugs who were pissed about losing a bet. If they were students, they shouldn’t even have been gambling in the first place as betting could get them kicked out of school. Thoughts of that confrontation suddenly had me smiling at the outcome.
Roxie.
D noticed. He tipped his chin, grinning to himself. “Why you smiling, dude?”
I shook my head, grabbing my own towel. Ironically enough, it smelled of the girl who was there in a flash to save the day, then out of my life just as quickly. “Nothing. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
He nodded, and then left me to myself.
I got out of the locker room before anyone else. Usually, I wasn’t about being quick, but I wanted a nap before the evitable party. We’d all be up until at least four, possibly later, and I had a class at ten. I figured I would get some sleep the night before. However little it might be.
I came out of the locker room, cutting through the main gym. Upon leaving it, I had to pass in front of one of our university’s smaller gyms to get to the exit to the parking lot. The shouting inside made me turn my head, and what I saw caught my interest. There were a bunch of people skating. Like vintage skating on roller skates, not inline. There were two groups of people in separate colors: pink and black skaters cruising alongside ones in green and orange. They moved in a circle, pushing and shoving each other. They had to be a bunch of girls. The shorts they wore were tiny and paired with fishnets. It was one of the hottest things I had ever seen, so I went inside, taking a seat on a bench.
I had no idea what was going on, but I was definitely intrigued. When I saw her, I was even more so.
Roxie.
Sporting a sleeveless black jersey with the name
Roxie Elbowa
on her back, Roxie was moving with the pack in a pair of pink fishnet stockings.
I tilted my head, moving my sight with her. This was another one of those times where I was reminded of the fact that I wasn’t blind to her presence. The shorts she wore were some of the tiniest, and quite frankly
tightest,
in the bunch. I observed she filled them just fine while she moved around the gym.
She was also quick, light on her feet, and threw an intense shoulder hit to the girl next to her. She sent the girl down on her ass, hard, and my eyes widened.
The girl really was Super Girl.
Chapter Four
Roxie
By halftime, our team was up in points, and I had high hopes we’d win and add another to the list of Venomous Vixen triumphs. A good season would definitely give our university an incentive to keep our little intermural going. I wouldn’t be here next year since I was graduating, but I wanted the sport to be available to others. Being on roller derby was a very positive experience for me. Girls of all shapes and sizes could play. It helped with confidence, socialization, and was just damn fun. Going away to college and being out on your own was an awkward transition for anyone. It would be nice for others to continue to be able to utilize the program to aid in that transition, or even use it as a social outlet as I had.
I took the bench with Clare and the other girls from my team. I was nursing my shoulder from that last hard hit with a Cutthroat Pinup when Clare suddenly stopped chugging the water bottle in her hand.
“Is that who I think it is?” she asked, looking over her shoulder behind our bench.
I just about asked her who when I saw him.
Griffin Chandler sat behind our team, a single large body on the empty brown bleachers surrounding him. His basketball sweats covered the length of his frame, his long arms propped on his upraised knees as he rested his feet on the bleacher below him. He watched the halftime show of the Material Girls, the school’s rhythmic gymnastics team, swirling their batons in the center of the gym.
I whipped around and a twinge of pain shot into my smarting shoulder. I grabbed it, bending low to talk to Clare.
“What is he doing here?” I asked, creeping the words through my lips.
“I have no idea.” She faced him and I did the same.
Like he knew he was being watched, his eyes flickered my way and his focused gaze was enough to freeze me and my thoughts to a complete stop.
His lips curled to the right, moving into a small smile. He lifted two fingers and waved them in my direction.
Clare gripped her chair, whispering from the side of her mouth. “You think he’s here to see you?”
“I…” I said, moving my gaze back to him. He was still smiling at me, and my heart actually jumped to a quicker beat. There was a song I heard on an old T.V. show once. Real old, like the 1950s or something. The opening jingle talked about the character being able to move the Earth with just the simple expression of their smile. It was so alluring that’s what it was powerful enough to do. Upon seeing Griffin’s, that felt like a mighty fitting comparison. Causing the Earth to rotate with his smile, able to move it on its axis.
I turned to Clare. “Why would he? Be here to see me, that is?”
She shrugged, facing forward completely. I did the same.
“I don’t know. I mean he’s never shown up
before
meeting you.”
I did tell him I had an intermural on Thursday night… and it was Thursday night. The basketball team was known to have practice next door in the big gym every evening. Maybe he passed by and saw me. But why would he come in? To say hi? My mind was spinning, and I needed aid, stat.
“What should I do?” I asked Clare.
She checked her sports watch before she turned and grinned at me. “You got a few minutes before we start again. You should go talk to him. Say hi.”
“Hi?”
She nodded. “Except this time,” she put her hands on my shoulders, “don’t run.”
The whole idea seemed so insane I couldn’t even fathom it. Just go up to him? Say hi out of the blue?
“I don’t know.” Touching my forehead, sweat coated my fingers. Whether it was from the bout or nerves, I couldn’t even distinguish. I chose the latter. “I’m all sweaty and gross, and—”
“Go!” Clare tugged my wrist, making me stand. “And don’t come back until you say hi. I swear to God you’re a mess. I’m so glad I’m not into men. I so don’t want to look like you right now.”
Her comment made me snort. I’d get her back for that one next time she got worked up over a girl. She waved me away, and I braved myself, rolling on my skates, away from the team.
Griffin dropped his feet from the lower bleacher when he saw me coming his way. Sitting up straight, that smile never left his handsome face.
My mental pep talk was nonexistent. I was rolling slowly to him, but I still didn’t have time to give myself one. I supposed I’d have to go by the seat of my pants on this one.
I let out a breath and moved one final roll until I was directly in front of him.
“Hey,” I said, giving a small wave and trying not to be meek about it.
The word “hi” formed from his lips. The greeting dragged with a bit of a drawl that hinted at a Southern accent. I never realized before that he was from the South. The accent was so faint it couldn’t be heard unless one paid attention. Unless one really listened to him.
He gestured for me to sit. He sat on the first raised bleacher, and I took the one on the floor below him so I didn’t have to climb the stairs in my skates. Being so close to him, I observed the subtle pink color of his mouth as well as a brown freckle just near the V of his upper lip.
“Your intermural?” he asked, breaking my gaze of his lips. He tipped his chin to the activity ahead.
“Um, yeah. Roller derby.”
He nodded, giving a small grin. “Cool.”
One word and the heat of my cheeks intensified. I could really just laugh at myself right now. I felt like I was flashing back to my high school days, channeling my teenage self. The weird thing was those butterflies didn’t annoy me anymore.
I put my hands on my lap, fighting the urge to tug down my shorts. My thighs seemed to expand when I sat.
Christ.
I bit my lip. “So were you just passing by or…”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, pointing to the side with his thumb. “Just got out of basketball practice next door. Your gym’s door was open. I saw you and thought I’d say hi. You left so quick last time I saw you.”
He did come in to see me.
“Interesting shirt by the way.” He tilted his long frame to see behind me. “
Roxie Elbowa
, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s a pun. You know, because of my name.”
Though he probably already knew that…
“We’re not allowed to use elbows in play, but I do a lot of shoulder action.”
“I saw that,” he said, pointing ahead. “You looked good out there.”
My mouth parted.
“Eh, uh,” he said, rubbing his hand behind his neck. Dropping his hand, he laughed. “I mean you’re really hustling out there. Better than some of the guys I was scrimmaging with tonight. Let me tell you.”
I laughed this time, lowering my head. He really was nice.
“That last slam you did was pretty sweet. Though I’m not exactly surprised to see you out there kicking ass and taking names after what you did the other night. I never really did get a chance to thank you, and I still owe you that favor.”
“Oh.” I raised my hands. “You really don’t. It was no big deal.”
“Actually, it was. You probably saved me from being suspended a few games. Coach doesn’t condone fighting. If word got back to him, I most likely would have been benched.”
Whoa. Those were some heavy consequences. Still, I didn’t think I did anything miraculous and it was nothing for him to go out of his way and acknowledge. He watched me during my thoughts. I knew this because when I came out of them, he had his head tilted, studying my face. I thought I had something on me so I touched my cheek. “What is it?”
I didn’t think I spilled something on myself. I never ate before intermural.
His gaze didn’t let up, and his lips twitched up into a smile, emphasizing that freckle on his mouth. “Nothing. Sorry for staring. I was just wondering what color your eyes were.”
I lowered my hand. I found myself watching his eyes now, a light blue, which challenged the clarity of the clearest ocean. If fact, they nearly were clear. His eyes. Only hinted with color. I blinked to come back to reality. “Um, they’re green. I know it’s weird. I think only my great grandma had them from what I’ve heard.”