At the moment, forty-four’s sole purpose seemed to be to burn her way around the track. Her quads looked like they were made of concrete. She must have been about five-seven or five-eight—two or three inches taller than me—but she was crouched like an attack cat, sending herself forward with her powerful legs but keeping her center of gravity low, I guessed. Her hair was dyed a bright green and flowed freely from beneath her helmet. Up close like this, I could see her tattoos clearly—dragons and serpents. Maybe some flames, too. Hot, I thought.

“Wow. She looks hella strong,” I said.

“Yeah. Her personality’s strong too, but you have to be strong across the board to jam.” She pushed her glasses up again.

“What’s her name?” I asked, completely mesmerized as I watched her thrust her way through a group of skaters.

“Kat. But her roller name is Killa Skillz.”

“Cool,” I said, continuing to watch Kat. Instead of avoiding the other team’s skaters, it seemed like she aimed straight for them, inviting every hit she could as she plowed past them, her face steel and her eyes lasers. I couldn’t take my own eyes off her. “Man, I need to meet her. She seems like my kind of person,” I said, maybe a little breathily.

When Shanti didn’t reply, I turned to her. She was staring out at the track, and her demeanor had changed—a small frown across her forehead, a slump in her shoulders.

Confused, but unwilling to dig into whatever her deal was, I asked, “So what else should I know about this stuff?”

She blinked a couple of times before speaking. “Um, well, there are five skaters in all: the jammer, three blockers, and a pivot.” She paused and seemed to have deflated a bit.

I wasn’t so good with other people’s feelings (or my own, for that matter). They just seemed to get in the way and complicate everything. So instead, I just charged ahead. “Okay… and what do they do?”

“Uh—” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “The jammers score the points every time they skate through the pack of other skaters. The blockers are like, the ones who create holes for their jammers and keep back the other team’s jammer. They’re the muscle.”

I tucked that bit of info away for later.

She continued, “The pivots have the stripe on their helmets. They’re basically blockers but can also switch with the jammer if needed.” She shrugged, as if giving up on something.

“Right…” Figuring that was enough info to work out the rest on my own and also not wanting to ask any more questions, given Shanti’s weird turn of mood, I just watched the action in silence. Shanti didn’t offer any more advice, either.

This is why I don’t hang out with chicks. So damn sensitive.