“That’s going to leave a mark,” a voice echoes across the rink.
Jonah stands next to Table #1 with a slip of paper in his hand. Mack scrapes her wet butt off the ice and limp-skates to the boards. With a groan, she climbs up on top of them and swings her legs over. Mack pulls down the waistband of her jeans a few inches on one side to expose the top of her hip bone.
“Yep. One more battle scar.” Mack presses on the red mark and winces. “Such is the life of a derby girl.”
I climb up beside Mack since Mom isn’t here.
“That was kinda impressive,” Jonah says, nodding toward the ice.
“Kinda? What d’ya mean kinda?” Mack says. “That was freaking awesome. Did you see Olivia here trying to sneak by me? Nuh-uh, honey. Not on my watch.”
“I saw how you waited until she was in the turn to make your final move,” Jonah says to me. “Short track is as much a mental game as a physical one.”
“Short track? Pfft,” Mack says. “Honey, this is practicing for derby life. I’m training to be a blocker. My job is to keep the jammers—today played by the lovely Olivia—from slipping by. But you’re right. This is as much a mental game as a physical one. Being the biggest or the fastest doesn’t mean squat if you lose your balance, even for a second.”
Mack pulls at her clothes again. The red welt on her hip is already taking on a blue-black tinge.
“Don’t I know it.” Jonah pulls up his T-shirt. He’s got a matching bruise peeking out the top of his waistband over his left hip too.
“Nice six-pack, kid,” Mack says with an appreciative nod.
“Told you, simple carbs are crap. Eggs, salmon, and seaweed. Fuel of champions.” Jonah pulls his shirt back down. “Gives you long, lean muscles.”
“Speaking of eggs, you forgot your cooler. I’ll go get it out of the fridge for ya.” Mack slaps on her skate guards and waddles toward the snack bar.
“How’s your head?” I say.
He shrugs, but I can see the red mark on his left temple. “So, you work here? Like, every day after school?”
“Olivia practically lives here,” Mack yells over, her butt sticking out of the refrigerator. “You will be seeing a lot of Ice Dreams’ reigning princess. A lot.”
“Cool. I gotta go.” Jonah holds out the slip of paper to me. It’s a check folded in half. “Can you give this to your mom? Dad will email her the specifications for the safety padding tonight.”
“You’re such a wuss, Choi.” Mack playfully shoves Jonah’s cooler into his chest until he takes it. “Derby girls don’t use padding.” Mack snorts. “Well, at least not on the track. Other places? Yep. Some very much so.”
I take the check. “See you tomorrow, then?”
“Junior Championships are in ten weeks. I can’t waste any more time.” Jonah slides the cooler strap over his muscular shoulder and rocks back and forth on his heels. “So, I guess that’s a yes.”
I nod. A new energy crackles around the rink as Jonah makes a less dramatic exit this time. That, plus the amount of zeroes on this check, makes our dying rink spark back to life.
Chapter 2
“So, is this the designated Asian-kid table at this school or something?” a voice comes from behind me the next day during lunch.
OMG, it’s Jonah Choi. I thought I saw him in the hall before first period but figured my brain was playing tricks on me.
Brandon looks up from our science homework. “Hey, you’re the new guy from PE this morning. I can’t remember your name, though.”
“Jonah Choi,” I say, and three heads snap my way.
“Korean?” Brandon says.
“Mostly,” Jonah says.
“Mostly?” I say.
“Three-quarters Korean. My mom is half Korean-American and my dad is full.” Jonah answers the question I’ve been wanting to ask since yesterday.
“Close enough.” Brandon holds out his fist for Jonah to bump. “Represent.”
Jonah gives Brandon a half-hearted tap with his fist. I move my backpack so Jonah can sit between Brandon and me.
“Seriously, where are all the Asians?” Jonah pulls two plastic boxes from his backpack.
“For the sophomore class, you’re pretty much looking at ’em. I’m Brandon.”
“Naomi.” She waves at Jonah. “And this is my cousin, Erika.”
“Hey.” Erika nods at Jonah.
Jonah does a double take because Erika is obviously white. “Cousin?”
“Yep. My last name is Ito too.” Erika brushes her light brown hair over her shoulder. “Because my biological dad is a complete waste of carbon. Naomi’s uncle has been my dad since I was two years old and legally my father since I was ten, when Mom and I took his last name.”
“Well, that’s…” Jonah says.
“Extra?” Brandon offers.
“I was going to say interesting.”
Brandon leans in front of Jonah. “Can I see your chem lab, Liv?”
“Here, I’ll help you,” Naomi says, pulling the packet to her side of the table. She has a huge crush on Brandon, not that he’s noticed. Not that she has the guts to tell him either.
As we always do, Naomi, Erika, Brandon, and I do our homework during lunch. Meanwhile, Jonah watches YouTube videos while eating his brown rice with salmon and broccoli. I guess I could do my homework at the rink now since the Chois have eaten up what was once prime private lesson time. Granted, I’ve only been doing traditional school for two and a half months now, but this seems to be the norm, at least at our lunch table and the ones around ours. Everyone seems to forever be going to club meetings, private music lessons, volunteer events, and whatever “normal” high school students do that causes them to post #stressedout selfies at midnight. With a filter, of course. Because nobody wants to see your stress acne and the bags under your eyes for real, you know. The bell rings, and we pack everything up.
“You’re welcome to sit with us anytime, brother.” Brandon holds out his fist to bump again.
Jonah gives it another half-hearted bump. I can read his expression. What a bunch of losers.
Hey! I am not a loser. I’m the US Junior Pairs Figure Skating gold medalist. Okay, I was. I pop the last bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my mouth as everyone else clears out. Only Jonah lags behind.
“What is up with Fist-Bump Dude?” Jonah says when we are alone.
“His name is Brandon Park.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Lab partner.”
“Is he always that annoying?” Jonah says.
“No. Yes. Sorta. He doesn’t have a filter. Ignore him.”
“Your friends are very studious.” The way Jonah says it, it doesn’t sound like a compliment.
I shrug. “We have a lot of the same classes. Everybody is busy after school, so we use the divide-and-conquer method of getting homework done.”
Also, if Brandon hadn’t insisted that I join him for lunch so we could work on our lab paper the third day of school, I would probably still be eating my sandwiches solo in the girls’ restroom. The fact that he routinely brings homemade baked goods from his “Test Kitchen” for us to try more than makes up for his occasional awko-taco moments like today.