Page 50 of Robbin’ the Rich

Ariel was halfway through a story about falling during free skate when Belle jumped in to reassure her that everyone ate concrete eventually. Zella shared fries without asking. Robin leaned over to quietly explain an inside joke so I wouldn't feel left out. Nobody seemed concerned with appearances. Nobody seemed worried about being impressive. They were simply themselves.

It was easy to see why Robin loved roller derby so much. It wasn't only about skating. It was about finding people who let you be exactly who you were.

When their lane finally opened up, Nate and I joined them as we migrated toward the throwing area. That probably should've concerned the employees. Eight adults carrying drinks and enough collective sarcasm to power a small city didn't scream responsible decision-making.

The attendant gave the safety speech again while demonstrating proper throwing form. I paid attention. Robin did not. She was already eyeing the targets with the focused look I'd seen her wear during derby bouts. The one that said she was about to become annoyingly competent at something.

I should've trusted my instincts. The second Robin stepped up to the line, she planted her feet, rolled her shoulders once, and threw.

The axe spun cleanly through the air.

Thunk.

Dead center.

The entire group erupted.

"Oh, come on," I said.

Robin turned with a grin.

Her next throw landed nearly as close. Then the next. Then the next. Every successful throw seemed to make her happier. She relaxed and her laughter came easier now, dark curls bouncing as she celebrated with her teammates. She looked beautiful.

"Your turn, Father."

I looked at the axe in my hand. Then at the target. Then back at Robin.

"This feels like a trap."

I stepped up to the line and threw. The axe bounced harmlessly off the target and clattered to the floor.

The group went silent for exactly one second. Then everyone lost it. While they were totally laughing at me, it was the kind of laughter that instantly swept you into the joke instead of making you the joke. Belle doubled over. Nate had joined in and looked embarrassed for me.

"Micah," Sonia said gently, "have you considered aiming?"

"I thought I was."

Robin was laughing hard enough she had to brace herself against the divider between lanes. God help me, seeing her laugh like that almost made the humiliation worth it.

My second throw wasn't much better. Neither was my third. By the fourth attempt, Ariel had started offering encouragement, which somehow felt worse.

"You got this!" Ariel chimed.

"I clearly don't."

"Believe in yourself."

"Ariel, I appreciate the support, but evidence suggests otherwise."

The next axe stuck… barely. The blade hung there at an angle that looked more accidental than intentional. The entire group cheered like I'd won an Olympic medal.

I threw my hands up. "This feels patronizing."

"We're celebrating growth," Mel said.

Robin nearly fell over laughing again.

As the evening went on, something else started happening. I was feeling accepted by the Reapers. I was amazing. I seemed effortless. I had never experienced anything like it before.