The burning and tightness in my muscles subsided by Wednesday, but by the end of that practice, I had developed two sets of sensational blisters on the insides and outsides of both my ankles. When I showed them to Shamrocker, she suggested blister bandages, corn pads, and ankle protector socks I could buy at Asphalt Beach.

Then she asked again if Olivia would ever be returning to practice.

Olivia did return on Saturday. We left early from our apartment that morning to stop by the skate shop and pick up some skates for her and some blister protection for me. I was excited to prove to Steve, the guy who'd helped me, that I was still alive and hadn't dropped out. Unfortunately, it was Steve's day off, and a portly hipster wearing a Bob Ross T-shirt helped us instead.

When we walked into the Rollers' Sweatshop an hour later, I did a quick headcount of the diminished group of newbies. Less than half the skaters who'd shown up the week before remained. I'll admit, my chest puffed out a bit.

All the remaining eyes were on my roommate as we crossed the room with Olivia carrying her new gear in the bright yellow bags scrawled with Asphalt Beach across the fronts. The coaches noticed and skated over to where we plopped down to put on our pads and skates.

"This is a good sign," Styx said with a wry smile as she pointed to the bags.

"Does this mean you're sticking around?" Midnight Maven asked Olivia.

Olivia smiled up at them as she pulled the skates from the new box. "Maybe. I stay pretty busy with my job though, so don't get your hopes up too high."

"Where do you work?" Shamrocker asked.

"Lettuce Eat," Olivia answered.

"She's the owner," I added.

Grace, the Jolly Green Giant, was sitting in front of us, tightening a lime green wheel on her skate. She spun around on the floor to join our conversation. "Oh my god, I love that place. You guys have the best salads in East Nashville."

"Thank you," Olivia said. "My name's Olivia."

"I'm Grace."

Shamrocker looked at the other coaches. "Lettuce Eat...is that where Medusa was a bartender?"

Styx shook her head. "Medusa worked at The Drunken Nun. It's a little further up Woodland."

"How's she doing?" Grace asked with a grimace.

Maven gave a noncommittal shrug. "We haven't really heard from her. I called a few days ago, and she says she's OK, but..."

"What happened?" I asked as I ripped open the paper around a blister bandage.

"Her mom was in a car accident a couple of weeks ago," Styx said.

Maven's face fell. "She didn't make it."

My hands dropped onto my lap. "Are you serious?"

Shamrocker nodded. "Yeah. Medusa's up in New York with her family."

A vice gripped my throat. As a card-carrying member of The Dead Mothers Club, my heart hurt for this girl I'd never actually met. "Is there anything we can do?" I asked.

"The team sent flowers to the funeral," Styx said. "I don't know what else would help, especially not till she gets back."

I stared at the sticky bandage in my hand.

"Well, you guys get geared up," Shamrocker said, pushing through the awkward silence that settled over us. "Start warming up on the track when you're done. We've got a lot of work to do today."

Styx looked at Olivia. "It's good to have you back."

I didn't miss the quirky grin on Olivia's face as our coaches skated away.

Monica and Zoey were already on the track warming up when the three of us joined them. Monica skated backward to look at us. "Zoey and I were talking about going to lunch after practice if anyone wants to join," she said.

Grace nodded. "You know I'm in."

I raised my hand. "Me too."

Olivia looked up at the ceiling. "I can come for a little while. I don't have to be at work until five."

Zoey clapped, a little ball of wheezy sunshine. "Great!"

Shamrocker blasted her whistle. "Bring it in, girls! We have a special treat for you today!"

"Somehow I doubt my idea of a treat and Shamrocker's idea is the same," Grace said.

"Today we're doing 27 in 5s," Shamrocker announced.

I looked at all the girls around me because everyone seemed to know more about roller derby than I did. This time, everyone seemed equally puzzled.

Shamrocker continued. "This is your first endurance test. In order to pass your skills test in October, you'll have to complete a minimum of twenty-seven laps in five minutes. Today's test will be your benchmark to set the baseline for measuring your improvement over the next few weeks."

"Twenty-seven laps?" I asked under my breath. "On our skates?"

Olivia scowled over at me. "Really?"

I did the math in my head. Five minutes wasn't long enough. I would have to complete almost five-and-a-half laps per minute. That was approaching warp speed. "Right," I said with a laugh.

"We're going to do this in groups of five at a time. If you're not skating, then you need to be counting or cheering on your teammates," Styx said.

"Who wants to go first?" Shamrocker asked.

If I could have sat on my hands, I would have. Olivia raised hers, of course. So did Grace. Monica and Zoey stayed back with me, my sisters in lethargy. I thought about linking arms with them to show our solidarity. Then Monica raised her hand and skated forward. Traitor. I looked at Zoey. "Don't you leave me," I said.

She smiled and nodded her head.

Two other girls, pretty sure their names were Beth and Cassie, skated to the track and lined up beside our friends.

"I'm glad at least a few of you have balls!" Maven teased, holding a clipboard to her chest. "What's the matter with you other bitches?"

The question was rhetorical, but I felt like I should raise my hand to answer. No balls, right here.

"Girls on the track, pick a partner to count your laps for you!" Shamrocker said.

Olivia spun around and pointed at me. "Lucy!"

I gave her a thumbs-up. Counting I could do. Twenty-seven laps, however...perhaps I should've quit then.

"Remember to work your crossovers," Styx said. "Push as hard and as long as you can with that left skate to make your strides as long as possible. This will conserve your energy and make you faster."

Shamrocker held her whistle up to her lips and looked at those of us on the sidelines. "Counters ready?"

"Ready!" we echoed back.

"Skaters, on your mark!" she shouted. Then the sharp blast of the whistle bounced around the concrete room.

Olivia quickly blew past the other skaters and charged into the first turn a car length in front of Grace, the closest skater behind her. She sailed by me at the starting line. "One!" I screamed loud enough for her to hear.

By her third pass, she was already a full lap ahead of everyone else. The coaches were watching no one else. "Four!" I screamed.

"Five!"

"Six!"

"Seven!"

"Eight!"

"Nine!"

"Ten!"

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!"

"Thirteen!"

Just after she passed me the thirteenth time, Shamrocker held up her stopwatch. "That's halfway, girls. Pick up the pace!"

Olivia's face was blotchy and shining with sweat. Her cheeks were puffing in and out with labored breaths. Her determined eyes, however, were set straight ahead.

"Fourteen!" I yelled.

"Fifteen!"

"Sixteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Eighteen!"

"Nineteen!"

Olivia looked like a stroke was looming. Still, head down. Eyes forward.

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-One!"

"Twenty-Two!

"Final minute!" Shamrocker shouted.

"Twenty-Three!"

Monica stumbled and fell. Olivia jumped over her leg and kept going.

"Twenty-Four!"

"Twenty-Five!"

"Twenty-Six!"

Everyone was screaming and stomping their skates.

"Twenty-Seven!" I almost jumped in the air, but thankfully remembered I was on wheels.

Olivia made it almost halfway back around to me before Shamrocker blew the whistle. Then she rolled off the track and collapsed, flat on her back, her chest heaving like her ribs might splinter right through her shirt.

I skated over to her, pumping my fists in the air. "You did it!"

She just nodded, draping her arm over her eyes as she panted. "Water," she choked out.

Styx appeared beside me, twisting off the cap of a bottled water that sweated with condensation. "Congratulations," she said, handing Olivia the water. "It's rare we see anyone make it on the first shot."

Behind us, the second group of skaters had begun their five minutes of agony.

Olivia propped up on her elbow pads and tipped the bottle up to her lips. She drained half of it before slamming it on the floor beside her and flopping back down again. Her helmet smacked against the concrete. "I...might...die," she huffed.

"We haven't lost anyone yet," Styx said, winking at her. She slapped me on the back. "You ready for this?"

I feverishly shook my head. "Nope."

She squeezed my shoulder. "You don't have to hit twenty-seven today. Just push out as many as you can. Each time it will get easier. Come on. I'll count for you."

If I could skate as fast as my heart could pound, I'd nail the twenty-seven laps in half the time. "OK," I said, forcing a nod.

Olivia sat back up. "Good luck, Lucy."

Grace and Monica were in similar states as Olivia, sprawled across the floor and soaked like they'd run through a water hose. "How'd you guys do?" I asked, stopping beside them.

"Twenty-four," Grace answered, splashing water on her face from the bottle she was holding.

Monica flashed two fingers twice. "Twenty-two," she said.

"That's good," Styx told them. "Some girls don't break twenty the first time."

I held up my hand, then pointed to my own face. "Some girls, right here."

Grace and Monica both smiled or tried to, anyway, through their open-mouth panting.

"Zoey, you and Lucy are up next," Styx said.

Olivia pushed herself up and slowly skated over to join us. "I'll count for Zoey," she offered.

Styx pointed at me. "Or you can count for Lucy, and I'll count for Zoey. I know you two are close." Her words had a bit of a fishing-for-information tone to them.

"I see enough of her at home," Olivia said, pushing against my shoulder.

Styx pointed at both of us. "You two live together?"

"Roommates," I clarified, in case Styx had any doubt regarding the nature of our relationship.

She nodded, and I saw the tiniest twinkle in her eye.

Shamrocker's whistle blasted and another group of skaters collapsed to the concrete. None of them hit twenty-seven laps, which, honestly, made me feel better. That was, until Styx pushed me toward the track. "You're up, kid."

I swallowed.

Zoey tugged on my sleeve. "Come on."

"You can do it, Lucy," Olivia said.

I looked back over my shoulder and laughed. "Yep. I'm gonna beat your record."

She winked at me. "That's the spirit. I'll pay your rent this month if you do."

Zoey and I lined up beside each other on the starting mark. She had an emergency inhaler in hand. I'm such a wuss, I thought, watching her tuck the inhaler into her sports bra. I could feel my pulse throbbing extra hard in my sore fingers and sweat under my helmet tickled my scalp.

The sound of creaky hinges caught everyone's attention across the room. My head whipped toward the door as it slammed behind the woman who'd just walked in. She was stocky with broad shoulders made even broader by the shoulder pads of her black blazer. Her long brownish-gray hair was parted down the middle with bangs cut straight across her forehead.

"Oh shit," the girl to my right said. "It's The Duchess."

"Coach!" Shamrocker cheered. "You made it!"

The Duchess threw up a hand as she walked over. "Sorry, I'm late. Long meeting at work."

"We're doing the third round of 27 in 5s," Shamrocker explained. "We've already had one newbie pass." Shamrocker pointed at Olivia.

The Duchess crossed her arms over her chest and nodded at Olivia. "Nicely done."

Olivia smiled.

"Carry on," The Duchess told Shamrocker. "Pretend I'm not even here."

"Yeah, right," I muttered.

Beside me, Zoey snickered.

Shamrocker's whistle of death sounded. Everyone cheered.

I pushed off a second after everyone else for fear of tangling my wheels with anyone and hitting the floor before ever leaving the line. I watched the other girls enter the first turn, their knees bent, and their skates braiding and weaving as they crossed over through the corner. My feet didn't cross. I tottered side to side as I rounded the turn.

"Bend your knees!" Styx shouted as I finally passed her. "Loosen up!"

With the whole section of the track completely to myself, I bent and pushed my feet wide to the sides. I sailed forward down the front straightaway, and as I entered the turn—holy smokes!—my right skate came over the top of my left. I pushed with my left wheels as long as I could.

Stretch. Step. Push. Stretch. Step. Push, I chanted in my mind.

I rounded the next turn so fast that I wobbled coming out of it. For a second, I looked like I'd rolled over a patch of black ice, but I quickly recovered and kept going.

"Seven!" Styx screamed.

Whoa! Seven already?

I could hardly hear my skates striking the floor over the sound of my ragged breathing.

"Eight!"

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Thank you, Nemo. Or was it Dory?

"Nine!"

Stretch. Step. Push.

"Ten!"

BAM! My skates tangled midway through the far turn, and I came down hard on my knees. I jumped back up on my toe stops and scrambled back to the track.

"Eleven!"

Shamrocker's voice echoed around the room. "Two and half minutes left! You're halfway there!"

Halfway? I was wrong. Five minutes was too freaking long. I no longer gave a crap about having enough time to complete twenty-seven laps. Five minutes was a flipping eternity.

I couldn't breathe. Stars danced. Bile churned.

Sweat trickled from under my helmet right into my left eye, obscuring the left side of the track. I dried my face with the edge of my T-shirt as I flew down the straightaway.

"Fifteen!"

"Sixteen!"

Zoey skated off the track and used her inhaler. I looked back to make sure she was OK, but Maven had already gone to her.

"Seventeen!"

My lungs burned. My shins and calves twisted into knots. My lower back felt like someone had smacked me with a baseball bat.

"Eighteen!"

"Final minute!" Shamrocker screamed.

I fell again. This time coming down hard on my knees and on my wrist guard. My fingers smacked the floor, and I yelped with pain. But I got up. I got back-freaking-up.

"Nineteen!"

"Twenty!"

The whistle blasted, long and loud, rattling off the bleachers and metal ceiling. I skated off the rink and collapsed, my breath ripping violently through my chest. Hehn-hehn-hehn-hehn. I sounded like a goose with emphysema.

Olivia appeared over me. "You did it!"

No, I really didn't. But I couldn't answer over the fight for consciousness. The halogens above were casting a halo of light around her head. Either that or I was crossing over to the other side.

"Here." Styx handed me a water bottle.

Olivia pulled me up to sitting. I drank a few deep gulps, wishing it wasn't so very cold. My chest tightened with a cramp. "Is Zoey OK?" I asked when I could finally speak.

Styx nodded. "She's fine. She knew to not overdo it. You OK? You look like you might stroke out."

"I might." I was holding the twisted muscle in my side, just under my lungs.

She pointed to my hand. "Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth to keep from getting a stitch in your side."

I forced a smile. "Thanks for the tip."

The Duchess, the head coach of this sport I had no business being a part of, walked over. My smile faded. Forget the stroke. I'm dead. And this is my hell.

"What's your name?" The Duchess asked, looking down at me on the floor.

"Lucy," I answered, my stomach churning in knots.

The corner of The Duchess's mouth tipped up into an almost smile. "You don't sound too sure about that."

I cleared my throat. "Yes, ma'am. My name is Lucy Cooper."

"Well, Lucy Cooper, that was good work out there."

What the—?

Maybe she hadn't counted my laps.

"I didn't even come close to twenty-seven," I admitted.

"Most girls don't the first time," she said. "I'm talking about you getting up and finishing. You're scrappy. I like that."

Maybe I did have a stroke and didn't realize it. "Thank you."

She pointed at my face. "I'd better see you in October."

I nodded. "You will."

And I knew right then, she certainly would.