The next day passes in a fugue state. I can’t focus in class, can’t eat. Every time my phone buzzes, my heart leaps into my throat, hoping it’s him, only to be disappointed by a group chat notification or a spam email.
On my way back from my last lecture, I nearly walk straight into Professor Whitmore as she breezes out of her office, a whirlwind of floral perfume and organizational fervor.
“Artie! Just the man I wanted to see!” she chirps, her smile bright enough to power a small city. “I had the most wonderful chat with Raiden Blackwell this morning.”
My blood runs cold. “Oh?”
“Yes! He said he’s been an immense help to you this whole time, just working quietly in the background, a real team player. It’s wonderful to see our athletes so involved!” She beams at me, waiting for confirmation.
This is it. The moment I could tell the truth. I could say he was a saboteur who only showed up for two days before disappearing. I could expose him. But the thought of it, of betraying that fragile thing between us, feels like swallowing glass. My foolish heart makes the decision for me.
“He has,” I lie, the words feeling smooth on my tongue. “He’s been great. A real asset to the team.”
“Fantastic! I knew putting you two together was a brilliant idea!” she says, before clicking away down the hall.
I stand there for a long moment, the weight of my lie settling in my stomach. I just made myself an accomplice. I just placed a bet, all in, on him.
~ ~ ~
By nine o’clock that evening, I know I’ve lost the bet.
The common room is alive. The rink, miraculously, is frozen. The ice is a little rough around the edges, but it’s a smooth, gleaming sheet under the twinkle of the fairy lights.
Karolina, Josh, Cameron, and Stella are the first ones on it, gliding and stumbling and laughing, their breath pluming in the cold night air. The speakers are playing cheesy Christmas music, volunteers are wiping down the last of the surfaces, and the smell of pine and cold air is thick with anticipation.
It looks… magical. It looks exactly like the picture I had in my head.
And my heart is a cold, dead stone in my chest.
Raiden isn’t here.
Every time the door has opened for the last two hours, my head has snapped up, my body flooded with a surge of hope so powerful it makes me dizzy.
And every time, it’s been someone else, and the hope has crashed, leaving me feeling hollower than before. He’s not coming. The argument in the utility closet wasn’t just a fight. It was the end. I showed him who I was, and he walked away.
“Artie, come on! Get your skates on!” Karolina calls, doing a wobbly spin near the boards where I’m standing. “The ice is perfect!”
I shake my head, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face. “No, you guys go ahead. I need to supervise.”
“Supervise what? Us falling on our asses?” Cameron yells as he nearly takes out Josh.
I watch them, my friends, their faces flushed with cold and happiness, and I feel a million miles away.
I had this whole scene planned out in my head. A stupid, romantic fantasy where Raiden would show up, I’d pull him aside, and I’d ask him to come to the party with me tomorrow. To spend Christmas with me.
The thought is so painful now it makes my eyes burn. I turn away from the rink, from the laughter and the lights, and face the dark, empty corner where the fire was. It feels more honest.
A hour later, I return and my friends skate over, their joyful energy dimming as they get closer and see my face properly.
“Hey,” Stella says gently, her red hair bright against the dark wood of the boards. “What’s wrong? You’ve been over here almost all night. You look like your dog just died.”
“I don’t have a dog,” I mutter.
“You know what I mean,” she says.
Karolina, Cameron, and Josh gather around, their expressions a mixture of concern and confusion.
They’re looking at me, really looking, and the dam I’ve built around myself for the last day, for the last year, for the last decade, just… breaks. I can’t hold it in anymore. I have to say it out loud, or the loneliness of it will eat me alive.
