Ethan drove back home to Riverbend, but not before I filled up his gas tank at the station down the street, bought him lunch from McDonald's to eat on the drive, and gave him a wad of cash to have his phone reconnected. Little brothers: do they ever stop being exhausting?

Olivia was in the kitchen pouring a to-go cup of coffee when I walked back in. There were dark circles under her half-mast eyes and the bun on her head was a smidge lopsided.

I grimaced. "I'm afraid it's going to be a long day."

She yawned as she screwed the plastic lid on her mug. "I'll perk up when I get there. We're trying out a new appetizer today."

"Oh god. What's it called?"

"It's a cheddar fondue." She grinned behind her cup. "It's called That's What Cheese Said."

I burst out laughing. "That's terrible."

"I know. It's gonna be great." She slurped some coffee. "What are you going to do today?"

Probably sit at home and stare at my phone while I wait to hear from West Adler. I didn't say that out loud, of course. No need to draw attention to the depths of my patheticness and incite the taunts of my roommate. "Probably just stay home and watch TV. You know, Netflix and Chill."

Her eyes narrowed. "You know that means to go to someone's house for a booty call, right?"

"What?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Lucy."

"I've said that to my dad." I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. "I've posted that on Facebook."

She doubled over, nearly spilling her coffee. "Shit, that's funny."

I slumped against the counter, burying my red face in my hands.

She nudged my arm as she walked past. "As much as I'd love to stay here and give you hell about this, I've got to go to work. I'll see you tonight."

Still whimpering, I waved. "Bye."

"Don't wait up!" she called, walking out our front door.

When she was gone, and I'd somewhat recovered from my humiliation, I retired to the living room with my laptop and spent a ridiculous portion of the rest of the day researching roller derby online...and, yes, checking and rechecking my phone for lunch plans from West.

Roller derby was, surprisingly, a worldwide sport with thousands of teams in more than fifty countries. Some sites estimated that over a hundred thousand female skaters played across the globe, as well as a growing number of men in men's roller derby.

I wonder if West owns roller skates.

I checked my phone again.

Nothing.

I tossed it across the couch.

Apparently, junior roller derby was also a thing, allowing kids as young as six to lace up and play. It made me feel better about the prospect of surviving should I attempt to give it a whirl. Because if a six-year-old could do it, surely I could too. Right?

I typed the words "roller derby injuries" into the search bar of my internet browser, then clicked on "See All Images."

Oh. My. God.

The first image in the grid was of a woman's black-and-purple foot bent right at a forty-five-degree angle with her ankle bone protruding like a second misplaced heel.

Another image looked normal at first glance; then I realized the woman's skate was twisted around backward like a demon-possessed limb.

Farther down the page, a woman's collarbone was jutting through her blood-soaked shirt. Through her shirt!

With a shudder, I slammed my laptop screen closed.

Thankfully, my phone chirped just in time with a text message, and my stomach flip-flopped from nauseous to nervous with the beep. I moved the laptop to the floor and dove across the couch to snatch the phone off the far cushion.

It was Ethan.

Back n Riverbend. Stopped @ store 2 pay my bill. Phones back on. IOU $62. Thx.

***