Page 57 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

I was suddenly not ready for a single thing.

“Um, sure,” I whispered.

My best friend squeezed my hand. “It’ll be okay.”

“I sure the fuck hope so,” I said. “Because if I’m not able to work the candy counter tomorrow, my father is going to kill me.”

“I’ll make sure that you arrive in one piece,” she promised.

For some reason, I didn’t quite believe her.

And I was right not to.

By the end of the night, I had two skinned up knees, four skate wheel marks on my left thigh, a black and blue elbow, and a promise that Gisela would never take me there again.

Chapter

Two

I don’t care if my message ends up a screenshot. I said what I said.

—Jeremiah’s secret thoughts

JEREMIAH

I touched a hand to my chest as I watched the two women skate away.

Well, I watched as one was practically dragged and held up, and the other skated away.

It was apparent that one had no issues being on skates, and the other probably needed to double check to make sure she had current insurance.

“Why are you touching your chest like that?” Emrys, left defenseman, asked.

I didn’t know.

I hadn’t been aware that I was doing it.

I pulled my hand away and forced my breathing to come back under control.

“Down, boy.”

I looked at my best friend, Bryson, and narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“You look like you might start drooling any second,” Bryson teased.

I might.

I fucking might.

“She’s everything,” I found myself saying.

“And he’s sunk.” Bryson chuckled. “Let’s go get changed.”

“What are they doing in that area of the rink again?” I asked.

“I think roller derby,” another one of our teammates, Jefferson, said.

“What?” I asked. “Since when do they do roller derby?”

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