The Ones We Lose

“Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, to our annual Winter Figure Skating Contest, where youthful young teens come up here to show what they’re made of, to prove that their dedication, skill and techniques can land them in the Olympics!” 

The classic booming voice of the announcer echoed in the humongous skating ring, followed by rapturous cheers from the crowd made of mothers, friends, trainers and so on. Women alike, of grace and skill, prepared themselves for what would be one of the biggest moments in their entire lives.

In 1983, Clarissa Williams, age 17, took part in one of the most popular figure skating competitions in America, one that was famously known for its harsh judges and the high chances of popular trainers lurking amongst the crowd, looking for the next shining star of the generation. In school, she was like most, with a few friends here and there, not sticking out from the crowd, but on the ice, she possessed strong, inhuman grace, one that made her fellow competitors worried that they could not top her performance.

And now, in this very moment, we shall see what keeps her going, what eggs her on, what makes her try harder and harder to keep every competitor a mile away from where she was.

Apologies, I meant to say ‘who’.

Emilia Russel, a fellow ‘friend’ and underrated teenage singer who had what she called ‘ a slight smoking problem’ and an attitude that made her seem cold, but confident and untouchable in high school.

As Clarissa takes off on the ice, her foxlike eyes follow every movement, from the way she prepares to launch off into the air, performing a triple axel, to the way she lands for a second, before preparing to skate again as she glides, arms outstretched.

Such fierce exterior already had people avoid sitting too close to her, but if you’d really take a closer look, you’d notice a certain fondness to those eyes, whenever the other gold-haired made patterns on the ice.

“Wow, look at Williams go! First a triple axel out of nowhere, and now that combination? Incredible!”

The announcer cheered again, the audience also following suit.

Clarissa looked pretty, better than any pin-up model, with eyes closed and body leaned forward, hands behind and right leg still up, straight like a line. The teen starts to exit, skating toward the other end of the ring. She does glance back at the crowd, offering a smile to the lone wolf of a friend she had.

“Well, well, well. There’s our shining star.” The brunette flicks the cigarette as Clarissa laughs curtly, walking over.

“How’s the Ice Princess feeling, hm? I bet she’s doing great after winning first place!” Emilia slaps her on the back, pushing her forward slightly when she walked to the right door of the grey Audi Quattro.

“Emily, stop it!” The teen sits herself comfortably against the leather seat, tossing her bag onto the car seats behind. The brunette simply winks, as the car roared to life.

“Let’s stop by Excaliburs’ huh? Get a soda and fries?”

“You can get both, I can’t eat too much. Something about a strict diet, Ms Brown says.”

Emilia rolls her eyes, tossing dark curls behind her shoulder as the car bounces up and down on the rocky road beneath the rubber wheels.

“Honestly? Fuck your Ms Brown and her belief in strict diets. You always do great, you deserve a break.”

Clarissa gasps, in shock and amusement. She hardly heard such vulgarities as she was raised in a Christian household.

“Emilia! Don’t say that!” Her voice quietens for a bit. “I know you’re right but come on,”

The rugged up girl barks out a laugh, as the car sputters when they finally pull up to the town’s most popular teen hangout.

The soda shop was almost bursting to the brim with teens, dancing in couples and hanging out with their cliques, chatting and giggling for the whole world to hear. The jukebox in the corner blasted a classic, ‘I Will Survive’, as girls swayed their hips and boys tried to get their attention like peacocks. The two girls made their way through the crowd, avoiding jutting elbows and from stepping on feet moving fast like snakes on the checkered floor. A hand from the other side of the dancing human sea waved towards them, beckoning.

“Hey, you guys made it!”

Henry Barnes. Son of the owner of  Excaliburs’, and who took up most of his father’s nightly shifts. Handsome and chiselled, he was often seen with Emilia, making the pair be known as the Ruffians in high school. Today, he shed his father’s leather jacket, wearing just a white shirt. But that certainly didn’t diminish his puppy-like charm.

He winked at a girl on the other side of the table, before passing them two malted shakes that he prepared in advance. “Give me a second, I’ll join you guys later.” With that, he disappeared from the counter, jogging a bit to the kitchen.

The jukebox had started to pick up another tune, one with a male vocal and the words ‘dancing queen’ bouncing off the shop walls and echoing in the shop. The neon lights from the drink bar gave the room a peculiar glow, mixing with the bright white lights you’d see in 7-11s around. A weird aesthetic, but for these 1980s teens, it was iconic in their lives.

When the jukebox changed its energetic tone to something softer, something more delicate for the puppy love in the room, the trio took the opportunity to talk amongst themselves and finally drink.

“Henry, you really missed out a lot, Jesus! She was amazing, people were frickin hollering-”

“Emily, it’s really nothing special! It’s very similar to my other performances, and you’ve literally watched me practice that.”

Emilia just grinned, white teeth on display as she accepted the playful punch thrown on her shoulder. Henry sipped on the plastic red and blue straw, the loud hollow noise of air travelling through it reminding them that he was kind of left out.

“Now that I have your attention, ladies, did anyone do Mrs Clark’s homework?” He raised an arch brow, glancing at the two.

Silence.

And then a sigh.

“I put the answers in my bag.”

“Niceee. Can I copy?”

“Can I too?”

“Get me another shake and a fries on the house, then I’ll see.”

Henry saluted playfully, before jogging off to the kitchen. As the boy disappeared from their view, Clarissa tugged on her friend’s jacket, motioning her to follow.

The night gives them relief, making them forget the smell of sweat and leftover grease from the soda shop, replacing their lungs with the faint smell of the striped potted Carnations surrounding the exterior of the shop. The blonde basks in the cool wind, sighing softly as her friend trails not far behind, busy trying to get the lighter to work.

Emilia brings the cig to her mouth, inhaling deeply. Anxiety ate away at her heart, like the way a snake devoured its prey.

“Clarissa?” She exhales shakily, the smoke slowly trailing away from her mouth.

“Yeah?”

The brunette sighs before leaning against her car as Clarissa rummages through her bag.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too-”

“I don’t mean that in a friend way.”

The rummaging stops. “Oh,” she whispers.

“...I’m sorry. I-”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

Something pooled in her gut, twisting and turning like some wicked sea serpent.

“Is it okay if..you can give me time to think of it? Because, I- I, I’m so confused, Jesus.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

Clarissa heaves, the burden of deciding the fate of their friendship holding her heart and mind hostage.

“Prom night.”

“Prom night?”

“Yeah. Prom night.” The blonde silently prays to the God her parents raised her to believe strongly in, especially in hard times.

“I’ll give you my answer then.”

Prom night.

Those two words can send many different feelings down the spines of students: Excitement, anxiety, pain, loneliness. The list goes on and on. But today, a new emotion appears on that list.

Heartbreak.

“Williams, what are you doing here?”

Clarissa’s face pales, all light drained.

It’s as if the world has died in front of her eyes.

She just came here to wash up before she intended to find the brunette.

“Emilia, what-?”

“Clarissa, I’m busy. Leave.”The brunette is pinned against the school bathroom wall, a male student’s hand on her thigh. She recognizes him. They dated.

“...You’d told me you’d wait.”

She scoffed.

“If you believed that, you’re a fucking idiot.”

The silence that was between them lost its comfort, now spinning itself into one of sharp spikes, pain and endless regret. The face of the girl she grew up with is no longer familiar; It is harsh, unforgiving and cold. 

She wanted to cry. 

She wanted to shove the man away, grab her by that jacket, that stupid jacket with way too many badges on it, pull her in and beg. Beg, beg and beg. For her to look at her the way she used to.

But somehow, she didn’t.

Like a coward, or as she perceived herself as one, she runs.

She doesn’t see the regret on the other’s face, though.

Henry finds her finally, sobbing and alone.

Under her breath, she repeated the same sentence like a mantra, again and again, as if it could bring any comfort.

“She lied, she lied, she lied.”

The last time the two girls, now women, meet is in a club, 1990, December 25th.

Emilia spots her first, packing up after her band had finished. She was smiling and giggling with a man with dark hair and deep eyes. Clarissa had blossomed into a true beauty, and the disco lights simply highlighted her features.

“Clarissa?”

It is then the blonde she once lost, looked at her for what seems like the longest time. The smile she was so familiar with falls right off.

“Emilia.”

Her voice is no longer saccharine, but hollow.

“Clarissa, please, just listen to me-”

“Leave me alone. Leave me alone!” The blonde screeches at the woman, voice brittle and raw with angst. Her old friend had been chasing after her, street to street, trying to catch up.

“Please, I know what I did back then was terrible, let me make it up to you-”

“You hurt me! You couldn’t fucking wait and you jumped at my ex! What other explanation is there?” She hisses, tears stinging her eyes. She never healed after all.

 “Clarissa-! CLARISSA!” Emilia screams.

“What-”

The blonde looks up.

How did she miss the huge truck?

Its wheels screamed against the road, the brakes broken and unable to save anyone now.

Tears spill from her eyes, as the white light of the truck’s headlights flows over the two of them, illuminating them and making them the bright burning stars they were meant to be for the last time.

Crimson blood spills onto a neighbour’s dark roses.

Everything becomes fuzzy, images melt together, forming into a puzzle she could only put together later.

The universe must really hate her, to leave her without the one who saw through her.

If she were here, she’d see how big of a monster she was.

How she destroyed a relationship that meant everything with a simple action, without a simple given thought.

Summer, 1981.

The trio were at the beach with some others, secretly and illegally drinking while enjoying the last week of their break. However, the trio was separated when Henry was carried by one of the boys and thrown into the water. Both girls were exhausted anyways, from the beer mixing with their minds and the almost endless swimming.

Fun fact: Emilia adored poetry, which was considered weird, because, well, she’s Emilia.

The brunette plops herself beside the blonde, shifting to rest her head on her lap. Clarissa retired from the fun long ago, so her thighs now had beads of water from the mop of wet hair of her friend’s. She was lucky she had quick reflexes, if not her book would have the patterns of sprinkled water on its crisp yellow pages.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah, it’s your book. I’m still not a big fan of poetry though.”

Emilia stares at her. It’s the first time she’s seen the faint freckles on the other girl’s cheeks.

“Well, since you don’t like it, give it back-”

Clarissa moves the book again from the outstretched hand, covered in itchy particles of sand.

“Emily, no! I’m not done!”

“Then...read it to me!”

The blonde frowns, her nose scrunching up. The brunette doesn’t know why she finds it amusing, but she does.

A little too much.

“Come on, you’ve got a nice voice! Please?”

The girl rolls her eyes, but smiles.

“Okay, okay! Dry your hair first, you’re going to stain my clothes.”

They sit under the dead pine tree on the hill, surrounded by patches of fresh grass and flowers of summer. The memory was still so fresh, so soft, so real.

“And when one of them meets their other half, the actual half of himself, something wonderful happens: The two are struck by their senses of...”

She couldn’t help but fall asleep. She was so tired after all that running. But if she laid awake for a bit longer, she would have heard more of the smoothness of the other’s voice, how it paused and hesitated at a simple word before continuing.

“And when one of them meets their other half, the actual half of himself, something wonderful happens: The two are struck by their senses of love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire, and they don’t want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment.”

Autumn, 2016.

A withered woman stands in front of a tombstone, covered in moss and parts of it chipped away from age. White streaks her hair, her skin sags from her bones. She’s 50, but if you didn’t know her, you would’ve mistaken her for being 80 with how sad she looked.

That’s what depression can do to you.

“You.”

She turns around, coming face to face with another wrinkled face. A tall man, with hair that was once black and a face that was handsome.

Henry.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was visiting.”

“Fucking bullshit. You’re just finally feeling that guilt.” He sneers, face ugly and cruel.

“Did you even let her explain? Did you?”

She can feel the blunt edges of her nails dig into her palm. She’s certain that it can soon draw blood.

“Answer me, goddamnit!”

“What do you fucking think? What do you think Henry!” Her voice, fragile and shrill, echoed around the empty land around the two friends. The dead were the only ones who bore witness.

“Do you think I feel happy with myself? Do you think I’m glad I caused this? This- this pain? You don’t have to fucking shove it in my face!”

The man she was friends with in a past life stares at her, fuming.

“She lied for you. She did everything for you.”

The blonde gapes, before her mouth clamped shut.

“Did you know? That her father knew? He was going to force her to move away. He was going to make her marry some wimpy brat for his stupid car company. She fucking lied to you, so at least she could try to stay by your side. She’d rather break your heart than let someone as stupid as her father do so. She fucking thought if she hurt you, you’d be able to move on, be happy and get the chance you deserved.” 

“Stop. Henry, stop-”

“I knew that girl my entire life too. And not once did she cry for anyone. But she did for you.”

The old woman sinks to her knees, breaking down as her body is unable to tolerate the pain her heart feels.

“She should have never met you.”

She should have never lied, then. 

If she told her, she wouldn’t be so miserable, hurting herself for years believing that Emilia didn’t love her when it was the opposite.

That’s what she wanted to say to her old friend, but he was already leaving.

Just like last time.

Clarissa remembers the young girl she met in the corridors of the church, muddy and dirt streaking her hands and face. Sister Maria was scolding her, for trying to escape their Sunday lessons and getting dirty in the attempt. The girl, however, was more focused on the garden outside, before that focus was redirected. To her. The girl smirked and winked.

Clarissa purposely went the extra mile to know who the outrageous child was, following her home with a batch of cookies she stole from her mother’s oven. They were still warm.

She liked how the girl’s name rolled on her tongue. She liked how despite her disgust when she tasted the melted chocolate, she stuffed her face with the cookies when Clarissa tried to take them away.

“I may be rude, but I’m not an asshole.” Her mouth moved, voice muffled from the chunks of cookie in her mouth.

The blonde child laughed herself to tears.

In another life, those two would have been wives, lovers even.

But as I quote what Clarissa believed the moment Emilia had died, trying to play hero, the universe is cruel and full of hatred.