How Marilyn’s day was almost ruined by 3 things:

1: Her job asked her to come in at the last minute. During her practice.
2: Her roommate dodged the question about the past due rent.
3: Her teammates wouldn’t shut up about Nick ‘nightmare’ Waller instead of doing the drills.

How Marilyn was able to move forward in 3 steps:

Step 1: Explain that she was at practice and that her availability hadn’t changed.

Her boss’ response: ‘Fine. Whatever. Don’t be late tomorrow.’

Step 2: Text Maria that the landlord was going to kick Star out if her ‘blueberry girlfriend’ didn’t have her half, again.

Maria’s response: ‘I’ll chew her out.’

Step 3: Ask her teammates to pay attention, so they don’t hurt anyone.

Most responses: Get back to the drills without issue.

The captain’s response: Move her foot just enough to kick Marilyn on her descent.

It didn’t work. In the sense of hurting Kamkin. Marilyn’s reflexes were too fast for that. It worked in pissing everyone off.

A trustworthy cheerleader yelled, “Lana! What the hell!?”

Lana stood proud. She flipped her long sunflower hair into someone’s face. Chest puffed out. A high-pitched voice that was more grating than anything else.

Lana bragged, “She’s a big girl. She can handle it. Not like I’d mess up much.”

“Lana,” Marilyn tried, “I’m not really in the mood for you tonight. Can you, like, please just cooperate? You know? Like a team?”

Marilyn’s attempt at diplomacy fell on deaf ears. Lana was on her phone by the word ‘cooperate’. She walked off at ‘team’.

“Oh! Sorry! Hubby’s texting me. Gotta be supportive! Busted hand n’ all. Byeee~!”

All the women’s protests meant exactly jack to Lana. The coach wasn’t present tonight. None of them were going to put their hands on her. And if they did, Lana would snitch to a dean in a second.

The girls had no choice but to practice their routine without a captain. A fairly easy feat. They were used to it.

The drills went off without a hitch. Every girl knew their role for Friday. It was amazing how much smoother the team worked under Kamkin’s respectful direction.

As practice wrapped up, all the girls went their way. Most lived in the dorms. One group carpooled. Marilyn was in her convertible about to text Alice when she heard two familiar voices.

Lana’s whinny, “You’re with that bitch who broke my hubby’s hand!”

Alice’s calm, “She bruised his hand. Now leave me alone.”

Alice kept on walking to the parking lot. Toward Marilyn’s car. Lana stayed in pursuit.

“Don’t you walk away from me! Do you know who I am?!”

Still walking, “Don’t care.”

Lana circled Alice. Blocking her path to Marilyn. Moving with Alice, either way she tried to go.

“You ain’t going anywhere, fat ass!” Lana ordered. “You cost us the game! And more importantly, my hubby’s hand still hurts!”

Alice rolled her eyes. She was an inch taller than Lana. Both were petite. But Lana was supermodel thin.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me! I swear, if I ever find your little girlfriend, I’ll-”

Alice stood toe to toe. Breathed down Lana’s face. She kept her stone-cold stare.

Whatever plan Lana had prior was up in flames. Her confidence fell. Like the sweat drop down her brow.

“You’ll what?” Alice threatened.

Stuttering, “I-I’ll get my boyfriend!”

“I thought his hand was busted? Or do you just want a matching set?”

That’s when Marilyn came into the picture. Pretending to be as happy as can be.

“Hey Mustang~!” Marilyn wrapped her arm over Alice’s shoulder. Hip to hip. As close as Lana would be to her boyfriend.

“I was looking for ya! Ready to head home?”

Lana & Marilyn’s eyes never crossed. Marilyn only cared about getting Alice away.

Lana, like a confused deer, did nothing as they walked around her. Confused by Marilyn’s defense. Confused even further by Alice’s lackadaisical answer.

“Yeah, sure. How was practice?”

Alice played along. Hooking her arm around Marilyn’s waist. Allowing Marilyn to lead her safely to their ride.

-Later-

The ‘Safe Landing Diner’ was a family owned establishment. Just as old as Starlight University and a mile away. Like its name, the blinking lights outside the diner were of a rocket ship landing on a pad. A plate shaped pad.

The secondary building connected to the diner was a garage. The neon green ‘O’ was off. A neon red ‘X’ was on. Between them blinked a ‘6 - 6’ in neon yellow. Alice’s mustang was stabled inside.

“Please don’t punch out my captain,” Marilyn requested.

The ladies sat at the bar. The TVs and side conversations were background noise. They patiently waited for their food.

“That’s up to her and if she threatens my girlfriend again.” Alice took a sip of her soda, “So, why make her think I’m your girlfriend, exactly?”

Head in her hand, “I don’t know. I thought it was smart at the time. Like, she’d back off or something.”

“In my experience, bullies back off when you break their hand.”

Marilyn gasped, “Nooooo! Violence isn’t the answer.”

Alice stirred her drink, “Do you own a taser or pepper spray?”

“Yeah, I always have my spray when I go jogging or,” Marilyn finally saw Alice’s point, “Ohhhhhh. Right. Well, I’m going to talk with the coach about Lana. She won’t mess with you again.”

“Fine,” Alice relented. “Thanks anyway. For, you know.”

Marilyn sang, “Sure thing, Mustang~! Oh, how long have you had that old horse, by the way?”

“My ex’s parents gave it to me. They couldn’t sell it, and I wasn't going to complain. 16th birthday present.”

Marilyn kicked her feet a bit as she listened. Sipping her water before talking.

“Aw, that’s nice. So if you’re 21, that means you’ve been working on it for, like, 5 years?”

Alice held in any comments on a ‘dumb blonde learning math’.

Alice pained to answer, “Yes. It’s being held together by string and a prayer at this point.”

“Lucky for you, my girlfriend Mercedes specializes in prayers. She’ll have it ready in a week.”

Alice turned her seat just enough to face Marilyn. Her bored gaze didn’t change. Same with her tone.

“How many ‘girlfriends’ do you have exactly?”

“Just the one.” Marilyn teased, “Want to be number 2?”

Alice scoffed, “I got my hands full with our little genie. No, thanks.”

Slightly stunned, “Oh, she told you?”

“Told me what?” Alice asked.

Marilyn quickly turned away. Her wide eyes on the table. Fighting the instinct to cover her mouth, she drank some water. Choking on it in her rush.

Luckily for Marilyn, their server set their orders down. Alice’s juicy cheeseburger. Marilyn’s sautéed steak and eggs.

That’s all he intended on doing. It was a busy Saturday, and he still had orders to get to. Lots of orders.

Marilyn made her distraction disguised as a question, “Hey Franky, your sis is in the garage tomorrow?”

“Which one?” Franky asked.

“Mercedes,” Marilyn answered.

“Yeah, she’s got the morning shift.” Franky pointed to Alice’s car through the window, “Green 1984 mustang?”

A deep-voiced cook called from the grill, “Son, I need these burgers out!”

“Yes sir!” The server jumped back to his job.

Alice thought the servers and cooks all looked similar. Either brunettes or redheads. Their Southern accents got thinner the younger the worker. Non-existent with California-born Franky.

Marilyn thought her deflection worked. Alice was chewing on her burger. The conversation moved onto movies and musicals. In her mind, she was in the clear.

Alice didn’t ask for clarification. Not because she was subverted. But because she finally had her answer.

End