I watched the rest of the match with Yolanda and Bee, listening to their play-by-play and watching the two teams battle it out just as hard as they had in the first half. Nestled in between Bee and Yolanda, I felt an unfamiliar mixture of both admiration and discomfort. With Priam and Vicki, I mainly felt discomfort alone, but with these two, their zest for this brutal sport sparked excitement and desire in me, even as their quirkiness reminded me of Priam and Vicki. By the end of the bout, the Honeys had won by an impressive lead and Bee pretty much lost her mind, while Yolanda thumped the crap out of her cane, which was both overwhelming and funny.

After the match, I texted Fee to let them know I’d find my own way home and grab my skateboard from them later. They texted back with every happy face emoji available and firm instructions to fill them in later.

Yolanda and Bee shuffled me over to Kat and the rest of the Honeys to say congrats on the win. They gave Shanti a squeeze as well, and from the look on Shanti’s face, I could tell she loved the hell out of both these women. The sight caused a tug in my chest, which I quickly countered with a squeeze to my left palm. Eye on the prize, Daya. And the prize here was finding another way—maybe a better way—to keep those tugs under control.

Kat pulled herself away from her adoring fans to address me. “So, Daya. Still wanna try out?”

“Hell yes.”

“That’s the spirit, dollface!” Bee cried. She placed a knobbly but strong hand on my shoulder. “Shuga, you give us a call if you need skating equipment or tips. We got the inside track on folks who are always ready ta help a new rolla kid.” She looked at Kat. “Kat, make sure this babe gets our numbah so we can hook ’er up with Alma and Joe.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that right now,” Kat assured them, and winked at me.

After Kat had added their number to my phone, the two older women waved goodbye to us and shuffle-stepped away with the exiting crowd, Yolanda patting Bee on the butt affectionately.

“Cute, huh?” Kat said.

I turned back to look at her and nodded. “And effing hilarious. Are they together?” I asked.

“Yup. Have been for years. Since their roller derby days,” Kat answered.

“They call themselves the long-term lezzies,” Shanti added, which should have been funny, but she said it so seriously I wasn’t sure I should laugh. Thankfully, Kat snickered, so I did too. Shanti just stared at her feet, which were kicking aimlessly at the floor. I had an urge to tell her to look up, but shook it away. What did I care what she did or didn’t do?