The parking lot at the Rollers' Sweatshop was packed when I pulled into the lot that evening. I ended up having to park across the street from our practice building. Zoey pulled in behind me, and we walked toward the building together. "What on earth is going on?" she asked, looking around at all the cars.

"I have no idea, but I have a bad feeling about it," I said.

She looked over at me. "I'm surprised you're skating tonight. How's your shoulder?"

"It still hurts like hell, but I wasn't about to skip out on practice. I'm going to tell Shamrocker I have to take it easy though if we do any contact," I said.

We walked through the front door and found the entire team putting on their skates. I gulped. Olivia was gearing up with Grace and Monica near the bathroom. Zoey and I hurried over and dropped our bags. "What's going on?" I asked my roommate.

"I'm not sure, but Styx said the whole team would be here tonight," she said.

"Probably because of the disaster at playoffs," Grace whispered.

I unzipped my bag. "This is bad."

"Why are you here?" Olivia asked. "Shouldn't you be on the injured list?"

My eyes widened. "Do we have an injured list? I feel like I should have a permanent spot reserved if we do."

She smiled. "Sorry I didn't respond to your messages earlier. It's been a crazy day. I didn't know if I was going to be able to make it."

"It was a weird day for me too," I said, pulling on my knee pads.

"Yeah. What happened? Your messages were very cryptic."

"I had a date."

"A date?" Grace asked.

"A date with who?" Zoey wanted to know.

I held my finger over my lips. "I don't want to say. Nothing may come of it, so let's not make a bigger deal out of it than it is."

"Make a big deal out of what?" Monica asked, scooting closer so she could hear.

"Lucy went on a date," Grace told her.

"Was it him?" Olivia asked.

I couldn't stop my lips from bending into a smile.

"Wait. Are you talking about the guy you were stalking at the bout?" Zoey asked.

"That's the one," Olivia answered, tying her skates. "You saw him today?"

"He took me to the emergency room," I said.

"The emergency room?" all four of them asked in unison.

"Well, urgent care." I held up my hand. My middle finger was taped to my ring finger. "I slammed my hand in my office door. Nothing's broken, but the doctor taped my fingers to keep me from moving the middle one. It's bruised pretty bad along the joint."

"Geez, Lucy," Olivia said, shaking her head. "You really should be permanently on the list."

I tightened a loose wheel on my skates. "I know."

"And a visit to urgent care isn't a date," she added.

"He called it a date, and he held my hand when he walked me back to the office," I told her.

Her head snapped back in surprise. "Really?"

"Wait. What kind of hand-holding?" Monica asked. "Pancaking or waffling?"

We all turned to her.

"What?" I asked.

"The kids in my class say this is pancaking." Monica clasped her hands together. "And this is waffling." She laced her fingers together. "Waffling is for dating."

"I guess we were pancaking," I answered.

Monica shook her head with mock sadness. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I just don't know how serious he is about it then."

We all laughed. "Do sixth graders hold the jury on the telltale signs of true love now?" Grace asked.

"They're probably a hell of a lot smarter about it than we are," Olivia said, strapping on her helmet.

"Truth," I agreed.

"Amen, sister," Zoey said.

Olivia stood. "So are you going to see him again?"

"Friday night."

This evoked collective "Ooos" from my friends.

"Where's he taking you?" Monica asked.

"Anywhere I want. He lost a bet, so I get to pick. And you guys will have to help me plan it because I have zero dating experience in this city."

Suddenly, all three coaches skated out from a group that was gathered at the cage, grinding to a stop in front of us. Midnight Maven was still sporting a busted lip from the bout. None of them were smiling.

"Fresh Meat!" Shamrocker screamed. "I need your attention! There's been a change of plans." She pointed toward the cage. "We have a guest coach this evening! Medusa!"

For the first time ever, there was no applause when Medusa rolled into view. I think we were all too stunned to clap, and certainly too worried to be excited. Her skates pounded against the floor as she skated over.

"Listen up, everyone." Medusa didn't even have to shout. It was so quiet in that crowded room, a mouse would've been heard taking a dump in the rafters. "I'm embarrassed," she said flatly, resting her hands on her hips. "I'm humiliated, actually. We were the fifth-ranked team in the world, and we were beaten by the thirty-second ranked team on our first day at the division playoffs." She pointed out at all of us. "And if you aren't as ashamed as I am, you don't belong here."

She crossed her arms and stared at the floor a moment. "So here's what's going to happen. Since, obviously, we don't know how to play this game, we're going back to the basics. I'm demoting everyone in this room back to Fresh Meat."

The few jaws I could see in my peripheral vision dropped just a smidge. I wanted to turn around and survey the room, but I didn't dare.

"Shamrocker tells me this session of Derby 101 has four weeks left," Medusa continued. "Every person in this room is now required to attend all of them if you want to play for the Music City Rollers next season."

She crossed her arms and stared the whole room down. "Any questions?"