The Rink of My Nightmares
The air inside the Crestview Arena didn't just freeze your skin; it bit straight into your lungs, tasting of chemical frost and old leather. Two years ago, that smell meant safety. It meant the warm fleece of a varsity jacket wrapped around my shoulders while a boy promised me forever.
Tonight, it just made me want to throw up.
I tugged the hem of my red cheerleading skirt down, a useless gesture against the draft shaking my bare legs. My entire body throbbed with a deep, systemic exhaustion. My alarm had blared at five a.m. to nurse Caspian, pack his tiny diaper bag, and sprint across town to drop him at Freya’s apartment before my microeconomics lecture. After that, it was a blur of three back-to-back classes, a three-hour shift scanning IDs at the campus gym, and a brutal cheer practice that left my calves screaming.
And now, I had to stand under these blinding floodlights, forcing a plastic smile for a stadium full of rich kids who didn't even see me.
"Liv, snap out of it," Freya hissed, her shoulder bumping mine as we lined up near the home team's entrance tunnel. Her blonde ponytail bounced with energy. She looked entirely untouched by the grind that was slowly killing me. "You look gray. Let me take Caspian for the night shift, too. You’re going to collapse."
"I’m fine," I muttered, my voice tight and stubborn. I forced a smile that felt like cracking plaster. "I need the twenty bucks an hour from the athletic department for cleaning the locker rooms after the game. Baby formula went up again."
Freya groaned, her eyes rolling toward the rafters. "I have the money, Liv. I could buy out the whole grocery store for you right now. Just let me help."
"No," I cut her off, my tone flat but unyielding. Freya saving my life from a drowning accident freshman year had made us sisters, but it didn't give me a license to live off her family's wealth. I had my pride. I had to do this alone. For my son.
A deafening roar shattered our conversation. The student section erupted, stomping their feet until the concrete beneath my sneakers vibrated. The arena announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, hitting me right in the ribs.
"And now, make some noise for your Crestview Wolves!"
The heavy double doors blew open. A wall of heat and aggressive energy spilled onto the ice as the starting lineup skated out, their blades cutting into the fresh surface with sharp, echoing cracks. Red and black banners waved wildly in the crowd.
I forced my pom-poms into the air, stepping into the routine automatically. My arms moved on pure muscle memory, shaking the glittering tassels while my eyes locked firmly on the concrete stairs of the stadium exit. I didn't look at the ice. I hadn't looked at the ice since transferring here two months ago to hide from my parents. But the cheer contract required us at every home game. I couldn't run anymore.
Then came the scream that made the previous cheers sound like a whisper.
"Led by your senior captain... number seventeen, Casper Vance!"
My heart stopped. The breath vanished from my lungs. Against every single protective instinct screaming in my head, my eyes snapped to the rink.
There he was.
Casper skated out with an effortless, lethal grace that made the crowd go completely feral. He was broader than I remembered, his chest wider under the black jersey, the bold white "C" over his heart gleaming under the lights. His dark hair was already damp, clinging to his forehead, his jaw set in a ruthless, arrogant line. He looked exactly like what the sports blogs called him—an untouchable, future NHL first-round draft pick.
Two years ago, that same boy had cried in my lap, begging me to run away with him.
Two years ago, I had almost told him I was pregnant. Right up until his billionaire parents cornered me in a diner, showing me a legal contract that would strip him of his scholarship, his inheritance, and his career if I stayed. They called me a homeless parasite. They told me I would destroy his future. So, I vanished. I took the tiny heartbeat inside me, became the villain in Casper's story, and let him hate me so he could keep his crown.
On the ice, Casper skated toward the boards, slowing down right in front of the cheerleader lineup to adjust his gloves. He turned his head casually toward the sidelines—and locked eyes directly with me.
The entire stadium went dead silent in my head.
The cold, cocky look on Casper’s face shattered instantly. His silver-blue eyes widened, a raw, violent shock flashing across his features. His chest heaved beneath his jersey. For three agonizing seconds, the star captain of the Wolves forgot the game, the puck, and the thousands of screaming fans. He just stared at the ghost standing on his sidelines.
The blood drained from my face. My hands shook inside my pom-poms, but I refused to look away. I kept my chin up, forcing my smile to stay put, hiding the terror clawing at my throat.
A sharp referee whistle broke the spell. Casper snapped his head back toward the center circle, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle jumped. He skated hard into position, but I could see the chaotic, furious tension radiating from his shoulders.
"Oh my god," Freya whispered beside me, her voice trembling. "He saw you. Liv, he looked like he wanted to break through the glass."
"It doesn't matter," I whispered back, my voice completely cold as I stared at the numbers on his back. "He has a game to play. And I have a locker room to clean."
I gripped my pom-poms tighter, ignoring the burning ache in my chest. My final year was a countdown, and I just needed to survive it. Casper Vance was the past, and I had a two-year-old boy at home who needed me to stay in the present.
