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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

Kat didn’t say a word to me for the rest of the bout, even though I could tell she had something to say.

My stupid penalty had turned the tide of the match. The team couldn’t get its groove back, and without Lena, we were missing a key blocker and pivot. We ended up losing by fifteen. Sitting on the bench for the rest of the bout, everyone else’s attention carefully directed away from me, I had plenty of time to replay the whole scene and relive each moment of my anger. Each time I did, I came to the same clear conclusion.

I’d fucked up. Whether I played it soft or hard, I always fucked up.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I knew you shouldn’t have come!” Thatha yelled as he unlocked the car.

“Nihal, calm down. It’s just a boxing match, no? Everyone has a bad match now and again.” Amma touched my shoulder as she said this.

I went to climb into the back of the car, shrugging her hand off.

I shut the door against their arguing. Usually Amma protested only once and then Dad would get his way. Tonight, though, it seemed Amma was more vocal than usual. Their muffled sounds filtered through the glass, and I shifted over to the far side of the car to get away from them.

The next moment Dad had pulled open the driver’s-side door with force and landed violently in his seat. It took a few seconds for Amma to open her door and slip into the car in front of me. A fold of her sari fluttered into view to one side of the seat. Gold and burgundy silk.

She only wears saris for special occasions, I thought. But then I realized that I’d been anything but special tonight. More like a fucking disaster.

Thatha’s baila music blasted from the stereo. He turned it up even further, as if to prove a point. He didn’t sing along, though. There was no laughter today.

I stared out the window as he pulled out of the gym parking lot. I could see Amma’s reflection in the window ahead, gazing out too. I thought that was the end of the argument. I thought we’d sit in silence, like we did so often, and tomorrow Thatha would push me that much harder—to make sure I never boxed soft again.

I thought wrong.

Chapter Thirty-Three