Tokio Derby

It was on like Donkey Kong on a roller coaster.

The crowd roared as we made the fifth lap around the track, the noise ridding the atmosphere of some intensity. I quickly made a symbol for Marissa and Mariah to do the “bump”- putting my hands into fists and bumping them together- and they nodded in reply. They quickly pushed through the pack, stopping at either side of the jammer. Suddenly, as if it was synchronized into both of their minds, both of them swung their hips simultaneously into the jammer, the weight knocking her to the ground.

The crowd spread apart, not wanting to fall along with the jammer. I quickly took that chance to hop over the jammer’s outstretched feet and skate my way to the head of the circle. We made a quick lap around the circuit track before the ref blew the whistle, signifying the end of the 1st half.

“Blargh,” Ash screeched, shaking her head and whipping sweat from her hair tips to the rest of us. She took another giant swig of her water and sighed again. “I never experienced something so intense!”

We all nodded, feeling the same way. Though we were still behind by about 10 points, the finals were something else. We were pitted again The Amazonians, a team that had won the championship for ten years. They were so intense it almost hurt to stand by them.

“We need a game plan to win those points back,” Claude added, searching the playbook along with Lena.

“What do you mean we?” Davon snapped, putting an ice pack on her head. One of the brutes actually head butted Davon to get ahead. “I don’t see you out there, sweating on the track and getting leg cramps.”

“That’s because my legs are too hairy to play,” Claude snapped back, poking Davon in her side with the end of a pen. “If I could go out there, I would.”

“Now back to the game,” Lena added in a tone like a headmistress. All eyes were turned to her. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do about that team.” She pointed over to a woman that was the exact opposite of feminine. “Since you destroyed their last jammer, they’re going to put Bathurler in the game.”

“Bathurler?” we asked. Doldrums nodded. “She’s called that for her ability to hurl opponents into the wall no matter what,” she responded.

“She’s pretty much all muscle,” Ash sniped, checking Bathurler’s body type. “She can’t be that fast. We need to find a way for her to put her body at our advantage.”

“We could always try the Flying Grayson,” I added, getting stares.

“What the hell is the Flying Grayson?” Marissa asked, chewing a piece of ice.

“It’s a move I made up,” I replied, tapping my helmet for good measure. “We need to knock the jammer down first. Then one of us whips the other and we sort of “fly” over her.
”
“When did you ever think this was a good idea?” Davon snapped.

I shrunk back, clinging on to Claude’s shirt. “I dunno,” I replied, “I was watching Batman and the idea kind of came into my head.”

Lena sighed. “It’s worth a try,” she said. I grinned from ear to ear. She grimaced in reply. “But we’ll only do it in an emergency. Now tell us what we need to do.”

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With only a minute and ten seconds left on the clock, both teams tied, and Marissa limping off the track due to a sprain, the signal was used.

I don’t really know how we invented this signal- a bird flying and them splattering into the ground- but we needed to change it before it was used again. It wasn’t in good taste to be constantly reminded of how Dick Grayson’s family was killed.

I nodded at Lena, showing her I got the signal. With all the signals we used, we were more of an undercover mercenary squad then a derby team. I skated over to Davon and tapped her on the shoulder, letting her know that her time was coming. She wiggled her arms in reply, not for any reason but probably because she wanted to.

The ref called the teams out of time-out and we raced back to the track. I set up thirty feet behind the pack, as usual, along with Bathurler. We both got into position and waited for the whistle to blow two times.
“You’re dead, short stuff,” Bathurler sneered at me, sending me a death glare.

The first whistle blew, sending the pack off. “I don’t want to die yet,” I replied calmly, “I just want to win. Or eat some lasagna. Or maybe both.”

The second whistle blew, and we were off.

The pack was tightly packed together, like a group of silicon atoms-Thank you Claude for helping me with Chemistry!-. I tried to squeeze in, getting elbowed by blockers and once getting elbowed with intention to the nose. I could feel blood oozing down my nose, but I couldn’t stop now.

I quickly moved up to Davon, tapping her on the shoulder to let her know I was ready. Davon grabbed my wrist tightly and started to lead us ahead of the pack. Davon moved her weight easily, pushing the pack aside. The curve quickly approached and Bathurler was far ahead of the pack, moving so quickly she was near the back of the pack.

A quick look over to Ash and Marissa stopped the jammer from moving closer. Marissa and Ash moved to either side, giving the jammer space to move ahead. Just as she was getting closer, both quickly squeezed back together, knocking her to the floor.

The pack continued to move, not caring if their jammer fell. Davon increased speed on her skates and easily passed the curve, moving her along with her. The second we passed the curve, Davon whipped me ahead, the sheer force of it pulling me forward like a rocket on skates. As I quickly made it toward Bathurler’s fallen body, I kneeled a little, shook my hips a little…

And jumped over her like Dick Grayson.

I let out a triumphant cheer, which was followed by the crowd. I quickly made it to the pack again, my girls pushing the others aside so that I could perform the Grayson again. With only two seconds left on the clock, the Grayson was the only thing to lead us by a point.

It was performed with perfection.

The buzzer rang, signaling us that the bout was over. A large smile erupted on my face and I skated over to my teammates.

We had won. Just barely, but we won.

“Woot!” Mariah erupted, pulling of her helmet and swinging it like a shirt. “That was probably the most intense thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“So far,” Ash added in, “You’ve never given birth to a child yet.”

“And you have, Ash?”

“No. But from what I hear from The Sims and movies, it’s some serious stuff, front pooping a baby like that.”

We all started talking about childbirth, how painful it might be and what we could relate it to. Ariel, Forte, and Lena quickly made their way towards us. “Why are you idiots talking about childbirth?” Lena snapped, “You should be talking about something else. Like, I don’t know,” Lena couldn’t hide the smile on her face, “your amazing win today, all thanks to the help of moi.”

“No way,” Ariel countered, pulling her little sister into a headlock. “When we lost against them, it was all thanks to the work of the team, not just their manager.” Ariel grabbed Davon’s arm and started to wiggle it. “And Davon’s big man arms.”

Davon struggled against her sister. “I do not have man arms, you loser!” She snapped, elbowing Ariel in the stomach. Ariel grunted and let go of her. “I’m not the one who has to shave her hairy body three times a week. Whenever you leave the bathroom, it looks like someone shaved a gorilla.”

Davon and Ariel got into an argument over who was worse, making us all laugh with every weird secret they told about each other. “Where did Claude go?” I asked, looking around. “He was here five minutes ago.”

“He said he had to get something,” Forte replied, pulling Ash, Marissa, and Mariah into a bear hug. “He’s probably outside.”

I skated my way away from the group, getting cat calls from the group. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Lena screamed out to me. “That just leaves pickles and flying a plane though.”

I made my way through the post-bout crowd, getting compliments from the watchers and other team members. The referee stopped me halfway through to talk to me about my move, so I had to quickly tell him about the whole idea for the move. But I didn’t really want to talk to them. I just wanted to see Claude.

The parking lot was heavily crowded with cars, crying babies, and adults getting drunk. I spotted Claude easily in the back of the parking lot, waving his arms like a person lost at sea. Since we all packed into Forte’s giant van, he was waiting near the back with the trunk open. The snacks we bought earlier were open and waiting beside him.

I quickly undid my skates and ran to him with only my socks on. Claude stopped me and pulled me into a big hug. “There’s my winner,” he cooed, kissing my sweaty forehead.

“Don’t kiss my forehead,” I joked, trying to remove the sweat from my forehead with my arm. “It’s covered in sweat from the helmet.”

“Well, helmet, or no helmet, you look absolutely adorable,” he added, swooping me into another hug and a long kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t be proud of just me. Be proud of the whole team. I’m just a weirdo on skates without them.” I grabbed a cookie and took a bite out of it.

“So what are you with them?” he joked, grabbed a can of soda and taking a small sip. “A group of weirdoes on skates?”

“Yes,” I answered, stealing his soda and taking a big gulp. “We are a group of skating weirdoes who fight crime and but pizza. We are the non-green, non-animal, no martial arts training, female Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”

Claude moved some snacks to the side so he could sit in the trunk. He patted the space next to him and I followed suit. “I actually got a gift for you,” he said, digging through the pile of grocery bags to find a small blue bag adorned with glitter and bows.

“You got me a bag?” I mocked, widening my eyes. “You shouldn’t have!” Claude just shook his head and chuckled. “No, what’s inside the back, doofus,” he joked.

I slowly opened the bag, spending some time cooing over the beauty of the bag and its amazing sparkles. The gift inside was a purple shirt, both the sleeves checkered racing stripes. I opened it and read the title:

MY BOYFRIEND IS SECRETLY JEALOUS THAT I CAN SKATE BETTER THAN HIM

I laughed at the shirt and kissed Claude on the cheek. “Thank you,” I cooed, giving him another kiss. “I love it.” My mind perked up, reminding me of what I was going to do. “I have a gift for you too!” I screamed, crawling into the trunk and looking for my gift on all fours.

“I admire your moderation but we can’t do that sort of thing in public,” he joked, “People are going to think that you want something with you r butt in my face like this.”

I ignored him and kept looking for the gift. I swear I put the gift under the seat before we left. I just have to feel for it and-I felt a familiar shape-Found it!.

I snatched the gift and crawled back into my sitting position. Claude took in the gift, wrapped pretty badly in blue wrapping paper with a bow covering the worst spot. He quickly tore it apart and took in the gift- a doll of him that I made the same way he made mine.

“Holy gummy bears!” he exclaimed, looking over all parts of it. “You totally got me! You even got my weird button eyes! And my itty, bitty stubby legs!” I made a semi-angry face at him and crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I actually like it Clarissa. This is amazing.”

I settled for another long kiss. “Maybe both of our dolls could go on a date,” Claude whispered into my ear. “Maybe get to second base or something.”

“What are you saying?” I snapped. The surprised look on his face made me laugh and kiss his nose. “My doll needs to be taken out to dinner before that,” I replied with a wink. “Maybe lasagna.”