Page 137 of False Start

Until he left.

I glanced up at the screen right before the image shifted, catching the trusting look in Rylee’s eyes.

They were my future.

We just needed to do what we came here to do and not settle for anything less.

Facing off against The Fighting Furies, the hits came harder, the knowledge that this was it for one of us keeping the pressure on the pulse point, pushing us to the brink, making tempers snap, and communication breakdown on the track on both sides.

They took the lead right away and held it through the third quarter, their defense constantly sending us to the inside and out of bounds, attacking every bit of momentum we brought.

Priest started switching us out more often, switching up our sets, keeping our jammers as energized as possible. By the time we had just a minute and ten seconds left in the bout, we only led by a point, a lead we clawed our way to and fought to hold.

“Mayhem!” Priest barked out.

“Yeah,” I said, not taking it personally; he’d been barking at us all morning. Every point on the board keeping him on the edge.

“They keep giving you gaps on the high side. They aren’t huge, but I’ve seen you blast through them before. They let up when you’re at the bottom of the track, but you're fast. Pay attention to that so if they give you the shot you can run it. Give them your back on the high side and skate through. When you come around, stay high, they’ll think you’re going for it again. If you need to, drop low and take the inside edge.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t worry about anything else. Just this. Show me what you’ve got,” he said with a flash of a smile.

I set up behind the jam line and waited for the second whistle, the jammer for the other team out of breath next to me.

Any other time I would have sympathized, but right now, I wanted to win and every struggle for air was an edge for me.

The second whistle sounded, and I took off, outrunning her to the pack. All moving pieces. Action and reaction. Tilly and Eve working together to block their jammer but making a gap for me in the middle.

Closing before I could get there, I went low and watched their players shift with me, leaving the pocket on the high side just like he said.

My breath echoed in my ears as I remember what he told me. Digging in my toes, I ran the line. Eve and Tilly moved in to block their players from getting to me at the same time. Their pivot broke away and tried to catch me as I raced up the track. I turned sideways, facing the rail, giving her my back, just daring her to take the hit as I went into the turn, veering around the corner as I snuck past, my feet burning as I held my edges before I spun forward and cleared the pack.

Their jammer broke out just seconds after me, her pace the same as mine, keeping her a few seconds back, leaving me a narrow window to score points and call off the jam before she could get points of her own and have a chance to take the win.

Tilly glanced back and I saw it coming. She went into full protection mode. Not against me, but for me.

And she knew I liked the inside.

It narrowed down to seconds. Me watching Tilly. Tilly keeping her eye on me while using her body to drive the pack up the back just enough to give me a shot.

I came in fast, got low, braced my hips, and started to slide by as one of their blockers stepped out, planting their skate in front of me.

At the last second, I pushed off the toe, jumping her attempt at sending me to the infield, cleared the pack, and called off the jam by tapping my hands on my hips.

“Yes!” Priest shouted, pumping his fist in the air as my team erupted in cheers as the scoreboard rolled over and we took the win by two points.

By late morning Maven Voyage had taken the win in their bout and the final bout was set. At two in the afternoon, we’d face off one more time.

And no matter what happened, we’d already won fifty thousand dollars.

One year for Crossroads.

We’d bought time.

But we needed so much more.

The exertion began taking its toll, on our team’s stamina, and on theirs. When we began again, the exhaustion and strain in our eyes mirrored theirs. Our movements were clunky at times and sometimes downright erratic.

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