BooksBarbecue
Back Bruised
Chapters (49)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. ROLLER DERBY: A VERY BRIEF OVERVIEW
  48. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  49. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I sank lower into the back seat, but I wasn’t really mad. Embarrassed as hell, but not mad. I loved seeing my parents like this—enjoying each other, letting loose. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. And it made me hope it happened when I wasn’t around too.

The two of them managed to catch every frantic lyric and then sail into the famous “lunu dehis,” followed by the quick, rolling Rs of the singers’ “rampapa rapams.” I couldn’t roll my Rs like them, so I never sang that part, but the rest of the song was contagious, and if we hadn’t been in public and I hadn’t been a monumentally mortified teenager, I would’ve joined in.

For the moment, though, I just stifled my smirk and tried to keep my head lower than the window so no one outside could see me. But by the end of the song, I couldn’t help but laugh along with them.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Once we’d taken Yolanda and Bee home, and as we walked back to the van, Shanti laced her fingers through mine. I squeezed her hand and asked, “You don’t need to answer this if you don’t want to, but does Bee know about your mum and stuff? I mean, why didn’t you and Kat just go live with them?” I’d been thinking about how amazing Yolanda and Bee were, how much Shanti and Kat adored them.

Shanti leaned against the front passenger door but didn’t let go of my hand. She scratched her nose. I had the urge to kiss it but thought I should let her answer first. “Nana and Yolanda only moved here after we left my mom’s. They moved here because we left. And they offered to take us both in. Nana felt terrible. She hadn’t known how bad it was—because we hadn’t told her. They lived so far away, and Kat didn’t want to upset them. I’ve always wondered what might’ve happened if we’d told Nana sooner. If there’d have been less pain for everyone.”

Shanti went quiet for a moment and I stood in front of her, awkward and still unsure about how to comfort her—whether to comfort her. I’d spent so long avoiding moments like this that I had no idea how to be in them. But when I thought about all the moments Shanti had been soft with me, even when I’d resisted, I realized how much I’d needed that from her. And I realized she probably needed the same from me now.

I fought past my discomfort and came in close to wrap my arms around her waist. She lifted her eyes to mine and half smiled. “How did they find out?” I asked.