A Christmas Whirlwind

CLARISSA'S POV The cold air bites at my cheeks as I glide across the ice. The sound of my skates cutting through the rink fills the silence. The arena is empty. right now, it's just me, my stick, and a puck. I dribble around imaginary opponents, moving and dodging as if they're right there, trying to steal the puck from me. My breaths come in sharp bursts as I breathe heavily. The effort of pushing myself harder makes my chest burn. "Faster, Clarissa," I mutter under my breath, forcing my legs to move quicker. "You're too slow. You'd lose the puck in a real game." I angle my stick and take a shot at the net. The puck slides across the ice and smacks against the back of the net. For a split second, I feel the rush of victory, but it's gone as quickly as it came. My mind immediately jumps to what I could've done better. "You'd never make that shot with defenders on you," I say aloud, feeling frustrated. I circle back, grabbing the puck, and start again. Dribble, dodge, shoot. Miss. "Damn it!" I yell and the sound echoes in the empty space. I know I'm capable of better. I have to be. There's no other option. Hockey is my way out. My way into college. My way to a future that doesn't involve staying stuck in this small town where nothing happens and dreams are killed if one isn't too careful. I skate harder, pushing through the ache in my thighs, but my movements feel clumsy. The puck slips too far ahead of me, and I have to scramble to regain control. My nerves are getting the best of me, and I can't get out of my own head. "Focus, Clarissa," I snap at myself, tightening my grip on the stick. "You can do this." But the words feel hollow, and doubt creeps in my head, whispering that maybe I can't. The sound of a throat clearing pulls me out of my spiral. I glance toward the edge of the rink and see Mr. Wilkins, the arena guard, standing there with his arms crossed. He's wearing his usual thick coat and knit hat. "Your thirty minutes are up, kid," he calls out. "I've got a wife waiting at home with a pot roast that's probably going cold." I skate over to him, dragging my stick behind me and trying to hide my disappointment. "Pot roast, huh? Isn't it past your bedtime, Mr. Wilkins?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Says the kid who's been here every night this week, running herself ragged. What're you trying to do, outskate time itself?" "Maybe," I say with a shrug "Or at least outrun my mistakes." His brow furrows, and he leans on the railing, studying me for a moment. "You're too hard on yourself, Clarissa. You're good. Damn good. I've been watching you since you were knee-high, and you've got the skills of something special." "Not good enough to be the best," I mutter, looking down at the ice. "Second-best doesn't get scholarships." "Second-best in this town," he counters. "You're aiming higher than here, aren't you?" I nod. I can't help but feel a bit disappointed in myself. I practice almost everyday yet I'm still second best. My rival doesn't even practice as much yet she can beat me effortlessly. I wonder what I'm doing wrong here. Mr. Wilkins sighs "Look, kid, you've got heart, and that's something you can't teach. You keep showing up like this, and you'll get there. But for now, you've got to let me lock up. My wife'll have my head if I'm late again." I can't help but smile at that. "Tell Mrs. Wilkins I'm sorry for keeping you." "She's used to it," he says with a grin. He gives me a playful nudge with his shoulder as I step off the ice. As I head to the locker room, my chest tightens. I want to believe what he said, that I'm good enough, that I can get there. But I feel a bit doubtful. Can I really do it? What am I missing? I glance back at the rink one last time before leaving. It feels like a battlefield, and I'm both the warrior and my own worst enemy. "I'll be back tomorrow," I whisper to myself "I have to be better. I will be better." I make my way down the quiet road. The streetlights illuminate the pathway as I pull into Wally's apartment complex. All I want to do is go to my boyfriend, Wally's house and cuddle with him while he tells me everything is going to be okay. I place my hands in my pocket as I'm deep in thought. Today's practice left me feeling off-kilter, and the fear that Janine Thompson, my rival, might take the scholarship I've worked my whole life for is eating me alive. I glance at my phone. No new messages from Wally, which isn't unusual. He's not the kind of guy who texts much. But he's sweet. He's always there when I need him, always saying the right things. At least, that's what I tell myself. Jemma and Zaya, my best friends, don't see it that way. "That boy's too smooth for his own good," Jemma had said just last week. "And he's way too into himself," Zaya had added, flipping her braids over her shoulder. I'd laughed it off, telling them they were wrong. "He's respectful. He knows I'm waiting until I'm ready, and he's fine with it." Wally is fine with me keeping my virginity till I'm ready and I love him for it. Plus he's really sweet. Soon, I reach his house and make my way inside. I don't bother knocking when I reach his door; he told me a long time ago to just come in. I let myself inside and make my way toward his room. The muffled sound of music drifts through the air, and for a moment, I feel a bit relieved. Maybe seeing Wally will help me shake off this self-doubt. Maybe I just need to hear his voice, to feel his arms around me. But as I reach his door and push it open, my world stops. Wally is there, all right but he's not alone. Janine Thompson is across his bed with her bare legs wrapped around his waist. They're both having s*x! The sounds of their moans fill the air as he thrusts into her. My heart slams against my ribs as the scene in front of me blurs. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. "Wally?" I whisper, my voice breaking. He looks up at me. He doesn't seem to care about me standing there which hurts me even more. There's no shock or remorse on his face. Janine, however, smirks. Her eyes meet mine, and instead of stopping, she arches her back, pulling Wally closer to her. They don't stop. My hands tremble as I step back. My brain scrambles to make sense of what's happening. Is this a dream? "What—what are you doing?" I stammer. Neither of them answers. Wally looks at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to her. I stumble out of the room. My legs barely carry me as I move. The door to the living room feels miles away, but somehow, I make it. I collapse onto the couch, feeling my mind spin. My chest feels tight. The betrayal of what Wally has done hurts me more than any knife ever can. Janine. Of all people, Janine. My rival. The person who's been trying to outshine me in everything for years. My breath comes in shallow gasps as I try to process what I just saw. This isn't real. It can't be real. Minutes pass—minutes that feel like hours before I hear footsteps behind me. Wally appears in the doorway with his hair tousled and a satisfied grin on his face. Janine trails behind him, wearing his oversized shirt. Her smirk is sharper than ever. "You look upset," Wally says in a mocking tone. I can't believe it. He's not even sorry. How long has this been going on? I look at him with tears blurring my vision "Why, Wally? Why would you do this to me?" He shrugs, leaning casually against the wall. "Why not? You weren't giving me what I needed. Janine was more than happy to help." Janine chuckles, sliding her arm around his waist. "Face it, Clarissa. You're not enough for him. For anyone, really." Her words hit me like a slap to my face. I try to hold back the tears from falling even more but they spill over anyway. "I trusted you," I say, my voice breaking. "I thought you cared about me." Wally laughs and the sound cuts through my chest "Cared? Come on, Clarissa. You're a nice girl, but nice doesn't cut it. Maybe if you weren't so uptight, this wouldn't have happened." I can't stop the sob that escapes me. "Please, Wally. Don't do this. Don't throw us away like this." I know begging him is pathetic but I love him that much to overlook this if he promises never to do it again. But he just shakes his head "We're done, Clarissa. Go home." Janine presses a kiss to his cheek. "Better luck next time, sweetheart," I can't breathe. The room feels like it's closing in on me. The walls seem to press against my chest. My legs carry me out of the house before I can even think. I stand there on the sidewalk, crying my eyes out. The ache in my chest is so raw I feel like I'm going to collapse. Wally cheated. And not just with anyone—with Janine. My biggest rival. The betrayal is suffocating, but the pain is worse. It feels like my world has crumbled beneath me. I've never felt so broken before.