Hell's Belles (5 page)

“Do these blue fishnets clash with my pink shorts?” asked Holly.

“Anybody have an extra pair of false eyelashes I can borrow?” called Liz.

“Take mine. I'm just going with some purple mascara tonight!” replied Carmen.

Annie watched as Lauren ducked to avoid the tube of eyelash adhesive that sailed over her head; Carmen had thrown it to Liz, who caught it easily.

“Thanks, Carm.”

“No prob. Just don't get that glue in your eyes. It stings like crazy!”

Annie couldn't help giggling as she allowed Sharmila to powder her eyelids with the sparkling eyeshadow. Back when she was an elite gymnast, Annie had spent plenty of time getting ready in the locker room. Gymnasts did wear a fair amount of blush and lip gloss and even glitter hairspray for meets. But roller derby makeup was an entirely different art form — more like war paint. Part glam, part monster movie, it featured heavily lined eyes and scary embellishments.

“This looks incredible on you,” Sharmila announced, sitting back to admire her handiwork. “It really brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks,” said Annie, blinking at her reflection. She actually did look glamorous — in a truly terrifying sort of way! In addition to the orange glitter eyeshadow, Sharmila had heavily outlined Annie's eyes with swampy green liner and applied a thick coat of mascara. Then she'd added a series of black thunderbolts along her jawline and a long, purple “scar” across her forehead. She also wrote Annie's player number — 5'11½” — on her arm in bold black numbers. Annie had chosen the number as a reference to her height, which in roller derby (unlike in gymnastics), was turning out to be an advantage.

Sharmila had gone a little off the rails with her own makeup. Rather than playing up her stunning features with eyeliner and lipstick, she'd created a virtual mask with black and white face paint. She looked like a weird hybrid of skeleton and supermodel.

“Are you sure you don't want to go a little sexier with your outfit?” Sharmila asked, eyeing Annie's black tights and snug red miniskirt.

“Sexier than a skirt made of less fabric than a handkerchief?” Annie looked down at her long legs emerging from the tiny Lycra skirt and laughed. “I'm good, thanks.”

“Why settle for good when you could look great?” Holly snapped. She adjusted her torn T-shirt to better reveal the impressive cleavage created by her turquoise bra. “If you've got it, flaunt it, Princess.” To illustrate her point, she did a sultry hip circle, showing off her shiny satin shorts.

Annie had to admit, Holly would attract a lot of attention in that outfit.

Maybe as the season progressed, Annie would vamp up her own look a bit, but for now she was content with the skirt and team T-shirt with her derby name printed across the back.

Annie made her way across the locker room to where Lauren was using a sticky hair gel to spike up her short brown hair.

“What do you think?” Lauren asked, gingerly patting at the points with her palm. “Do I look like a burnt lemon meringue pie?”

“More like a porcupine with highlights,” Annie said, giggling.

“I can live with that,” Lauren said, grinning. Then she struck an exaggerated body-builder pose, flexing her biceps. “So what do you think of
these?”

Annie's eyes widened when she realized what Lauren was showing her: a dragon tattoo on her left arm, and a skull and crossbones tattoo on her right. “Lauren, you didn't!”

Lauren laughed. “Of course I didn't. My mom would never let me get inked. These are just the temporary kind.”

Annie let out a sigh of relief, leaning in for a closer look. “They look so real.”

Then Coach Ritter appeared in the doorway to tell them it was time.

Annie could hear Jesse's musical tribute to her blaring through the locker room door. It was The Clash's “London's Burning.”

“Let's hear it, Belles!” Liz commanded, pumping her fist in the air.

The girls exploded into whoops and hollers. As they rolled out of the locker room, they deepened their voices to a more menacing octave and chanted, “Belles, Belles, Belles!”

Annie's heart was racing; she remembered the crowds of fans who had cheered so exuberantly for the Illinoisies when she and Lexie had gone to see the local adult roller derby team play. She couldn't wait to feel the rink vibrate with the same thunderous applause.

As she and her teammates skated around the track, Annie scanned the crowd. Dad had been recruited by Coach Ritter to be the penalty box timekeeper.

The rest of the fans clapped and cheered.

All
six
of them.

A middle-aged couple (probably someone's parents), a couple of boys wearing baseball jackets from a private high school across town, a boy with black hair wearing a leather jacket . . . and one girl in a skull and crossbones-patterned headscarf wearing huge hoop earrings. Lexie!

Annie's heart swelled with gratitude for her friend's loyalty. On closer inspection, the boy in the leather jacket was Lexie's friend Aaron. But happy as she was to see them, Annie wished there were more people there to cheer them on. She thought of the masses of die-hard fans who attended football matches back in the UK, sporting team colors and painted faces. Sometimes those fans got a bit rowdy, but all things considered, Annie would have much preferred a little spirited mischief to the empty rink.

Maybe it doesn't fill up until just before the bout starts,
she thought. She glanced into the stands, where Lexie was cheering louder than the other five spectators put together.

Maybe there's traffic?

A long line at the snack bar?

But from the looks on the other girls' faces, Annie realized that they were disappointed by tonight's turnout too.

Annie's heart sank.

“I don't get it,” she said, executing a toe stop and frowning. “There were plenty of people at our last bout.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Do you think
maybe
it could have anything to do with the fact that there's a Liberty Heights High soccer game tonight?”

Annie sighed. “I forgot about that.”

“Everybody goes to the home soccer games,” Liz explained, joining them. “I guess you can't blame them. The team is really good. And there's a bonfire, and, of course, cheerleaders.”

Ugh. Annie felt a little queasy at the mention of that. Especially since it meant that Kelsey was there, cheering Tyler on.

“Please!” said Holly, rolling her eyes. “We are so much hotter than those Barbie dolls with pom-poms for brains. You'd think people would be breaking down the doors to watch us skate!”

“They might,” said Carmen, shooting her a grin, “if they knew how much cleavage you were showing.”

“Look,” said Liz, “we can worry about drumming up spectators later. But right now, we've got a bout to win!”

Liz was right.

The girls skated to the side of the track to await their introductions. Then Jesse's voice came crackling over the loudspeaker: “Who's ready for some derby action?”

Well, at least Lexie was! She leaped to her feet and whooped like a crazy person. The other five people in the stands clapped and hollered, but remained seated.

“Here they are, ladies and gentlemen . . . your very own Liberty Belles!” Jesse called out. “Put your hands together for team captain, ElizaDEATH, who's come back from beyond the grave to entertain us tonight!”

Liz barreled onto the track, waving to the “legions” of fans in the stands.

Spotlight hog that she was, Holly didn't wait to be announced. Before Jesse could introduce her, she burst out behind Liz and began showing off her moves.

But Jesse didn't miss a beat. “Crashing the party as always, here comes our resident bad girl, the one and only Holly Terror!”

Holly's antics managed to fire up the tiny crowd a bit, and Annie took satisfaction in the fact that the Derby Dolls looked intimidated by her teammate's skills.

“And now,” Jesse said, “here's the señorita-who-will-beat-ya! Look out, folks, 'cause she's Carmen Atcha!”

As Carmen skated on, Annie laughed, impressed with Jesse's clever wit. She wondered what he'd say when her turn came.

“And who needs the police when we've got our very own Lauren Disorder?”

When Lauren took to the track, the middle-aged couple went wild.
Those are obviously her parents,
Annie thought.

Sharmila was next. Jesse made his voice frantic. “The barbarians are attacking! Prepare to be stunned by the stunning Sharmila the Hun!”

Annie was surprised by the weird tug of jealousy she felt hearing Jesse refer to Sharmila as stunning.

It was true, of course — Sharmila was a knockout. So why did Annie feel bothered by hearing it?

But then Jesse was drawling into the mic, “Somebody call Paul Revere! The British are coming! We don't want no monarchy! We want total
Anne R. Key!”

Exhilarated, Annie zoomed onto the track, skating at full speed as the music segued into what Jesse had clearly decided was her personal theme song, “Anarchy in the UK.”

Annie reveled in the rush of air in her face as she pushed herself to go faster; it seemed to be whistling along with the lyrics: “Don't know what I want but I know how to get it . . .”

Lexie was on her feet again, screaming like crazy, as Annie skated.

After Jesse had introduced the rest of the Belles, he moved on to the Derby Dolls.

Technically, as the announcer, Jesse was supposed to be impartial, but as he rattled off the names of the other team, Annie noticed that his puns weren't as inspired and his delivery was less enthusiastic.

Good. She liked it that way.

And then the whistle blew and it was time for action.

The lack of fans didn't seem to hinder the players' energy levels. The first jam was fast and furious. Liz was pivot and she barked out the strategies, skillfully anticipating their opponents' next moves. Annie was awed by the way her captain always seemed to be one step ahead of them; she was truly an instinctive player.

For Annie's part, what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in speed. She easily kept up with the wall, zipping around the track and watching with envy as Holly, jammer extraordinaire, bombed through the pack, dodging the opposing blockers to score again and again.

Lauren, too, was in good form, showing just how powerful she was.

When Annie took her place in the pack for the second jam, she realized that the Derby Dolls' jammer was in her English class. According to the girl's T-shirt, her name was Tessa Distress-a.

Annie had only one goal in mind — to block Tessa right into oblivion! With her head down and her bum in the air, Annie resolved to keep Tessa from getting past.

But that meant Annie forgot to check where the rest of the pack was.

“Annie — twenty-foot rule!” Liz's voice rose in warning above the gravely
whirr
of the skates on the floor. “Twenty-foot rule!”

Annie looked up and saw that she'd fallen so far behind the other skaters in the pack that she was in danger of violating the rule that said blockers couldn't be more than twenty feet away from the front or back of the pack. She scrambled to catch up with them but the ref's whistle screeched.

Pointing an accusing finger at Annie, he barked, “Penalty!”

Annie made her way to the sin bin — where Dad was acting as timekeeper — to serve her one-minute timeout.

After starting the timer on his stopwatch, Dad gave her a little pep talk. “Think of this as a chance to catch your breath and plan your strategy,” he advised. “When I pop a batch of cupcakes in the oven, I use the time they're baking to brainstorm and come up with new recipes.”

“So you're comparing me to a cupcake right now?”

Dad grinned. “Yes, I suppose I am!”

Dad's advice was good. As Annie sat in the penalty box, she devoured the action on the track with her eyes and mind, studying Holly's and Liz's expert moves and strategies. Some of the Derby Dolls were worth watching, too.

Her brain ticked as she watched Carmen grab onto Sharmila's waist, then catapult herself forward.

She watched Holly dodge and weave, as aggressive as a wolf on the hunt, but as graceful as a figure skater.

Finally, Dad's stopwatch beeped. Annie's penalty ended and she bolted back out to join the pack.

“Waterfall!” Lauren commanded, reaching out to grab Annie's hands. Annie caught Lauren's and held tight, easily blocking the Dolls' jammer.

And then it was finally Annie's turn to be jammer.

Her adrenaline rush, along with the mental notes she'd taken while serving time in the penalty box, proved to be a dazzling combination. She racked up point after point after
point!

“Anne R. Key scores again!” Jesse announced. The next time she scored, he played the Ramones' “Blitzkrieg Bop” in celebration of her success.

The Liberty Belles continued to play well for the whole bout.

When the final whistle blew, they'd won! The final score was 111-69 points.

And Annie Turner, aka Anne R. Key, took great pleasure in knowing she'd had a lot to do with it!