Standing mostly naked in front of the mirror in my bedroom, I started counting. Tallying my bruises had become a daily habit by now. Immediately after I bruised myself, I could barely look at my body. I knew what I was doing had weakness in it, and that just boiled up a different kind of guilt and discomfort in my chest.

But later, like now, something about assessing each bruise calmed me, gave me focus. I’d press into each one to judge its tenderness, measure some of the larger ones to see if they matched or beat out my biggest bruise of seven inches—the result of a brutal and beautiful plunge off my board a few months ago.

That bruise had bloomed across my hip bone, the deep purple in the center reaching outward into a greenish yellow. I’d pressed the tips of my fingers into the middle—the darkest spot—wincing at the pain and then pressing harder.

Hip bruises could last for days, if you did it right. And no one could see them, so I could avoid the concerned looks and assumptions and questions. They had the added bonus of being felt as I walked, a soreness reaching across my hip bone each time my leg hinged forward and back. A constant reminder that the bruise was there, blood spreading into the muscle like paint across tissue paper. A reminder that my pain was mine only and I could control it.

None of my current bruises matched that one, but the soreness in my legs from all the skating I’d done in the past three days gave me some satisfaction as well. I didn’t know how ready I was for these tryouts, but I knew I’d done all I could to prepare. I was surprised to find that that felt like an accomplishment too.

Chapter Fifteen

The next day I woke up with some intense shit stirring in my stomach, and my morning headboard bruising had little effect over the sensation.

Getting through the school day was more painful than ever, my nerves and excitement making it impossible to focus on whatever we were doing in class. When the final bell rang, I was relieved to escape and I headed home to grab my equipment, which I’d snuck into the house and kept hidden in my room. Priam and Vicki never stepped foot in there. I wasn’t completely sure why I didn’t want to tell them about roller derby. Partly, I knew they wouldn’t approve: skateboarding was incomprehensible enough to them, and I could just imagine their response to roller derby.

“They do what? On skates?”

“How beastly!”