Wicked Winters: A Collection of Winter Tales

by Lucy Smoke

  He reached for my phone instantly, borderline snatching it from me. "Yeah, that’d be great. I have a bit of a busy schedule, but would Saturday around eleven work for you?" he asked as he entered his details. I heard his phone vibrate on the desk.

  "Yeah, I think that should be fine. Message me with a location once you decide where you want to study," I replied as I stood up, swiping my mittens off the table and grabbing my bag from the floor. "Okay, well I have to be off, things to do, places to be. It was nice to meet you Justin. See you Saturday."

  Justin stood up from his chair. "It was nice to meet you, Haddy the Elf,” he replied with a cute smirk. “Thank you for today; it really helped." We stood facing each other in indecision for a moment, and then he reached out with a fist.

  A bubble of laughter escaped my lips as I bumped my fist into his. As I stepped back, I drew back, making an exploding motion with my hand. Justin gave a little laugh and shook his head before sitting back in his chair and pulling his headphones on.

  For the second time that day, I felt like I was smiling like a moron.

  5

  Hayden

  Wednesday 29th November – 26 days until Christmas

  Stepping up onto the side landing of the third and top level of my dorm building, I turned right, and headed towards my dorm room, which was just shy of halfway. From this distance I could see a standard archiving box waiting next to my door. I pulled my keys out of my bag and unlocked the door, swinging it wide open.

  I shoved my bag so that it rested on my lower back, I bent over and grabbed the box, which was a little heavier than I’d anticipated. At the last second, my messenger bag swung precariously from my shoulder, threatening to either slip down my arm or smack me in the face. Thankfully, I was able to right myself just before either of those things happened.

  Entering my dorm room, I walked through the shared closet which formed a kind of hallway into the room; Steph’s stuff hung on the left and mine on the right. I used my foot to close the door behind me with a thud. Continuing further into our room, I walked past my desk, which was at the foot of my bed. Steph had the exact same setup on the left side of the room. In between our beds sat two matching white bedside tables, which had a single drawer at the top and a little white washed basket underneath. I dropped the archiving box and my bag onto my bed, and then removed my beanie and mittens.

  I grabbed a hairband from my bedside table, within seconds I had my hair in a messy top knot before I strode to my desk and powered up my laptop. While I waited, I turned to the dresser behind. We had a little kettle and a coffee pod machine set up there, with a bar fridge tucked in between the dresser and the bathroom door. The bathroom just had a toilet, shower and sink. I grabbed the kettle and headed into the bathroom to fill it up, returning to the dresser and flicking it on to boil.

  I had actually gotten really lucky in my first year of college, being assigned the same room as Steph. Initially we had butted heads, what with her southern charm and etiquette, and my well, lack of both of those. But once we had worked it all out, we had become BFFs. So from that point on, even if we had been fighting at the time, we’d always signed up for rooms together.

  So at the end of every year, we simply put all of our stuff in a shared storage locker for the summer, and then when we came back, we’d just get all of our stuff out and set it up exactly the same in our new home.

  Another thing that had worked out really well was that our favorite colors had blended so well. I always felt sorry for people who shared a dorm and had completely opposite tastes. Our room was mostly white, with plenty of purple, aqua, and gold highlights. We had matching comforters, with Steph’s being purple and mine being aqua, and my favorite addition to the room we had gotten last year, each of our initials in gold cursive thin wooden letters and stuck them to the wall above our bed heads. We kept it simple but cute.

  When the kettle finished boiling, I dug around in my cupboards until I found the fancy cup that my grandmother had sent me, along with a note that read, "Every lady deserves one piece of fine china." Smiling, I poured the water into it and pulled out a lavender tea bag from the box of exotic teas that my mom had sent me just before Thanksgiving as a “Sorry I am too busy being a lawyer in New York, but here’s some tea” gesture. I’d ended up just staying on campus for the holiday. Steph had invited me to go home with her, but I’d wanted to use the time to work on my portfolio for my resume, tidying it up and getting it ready for submissions. My parents weren’t unloving, they were just busy with their careers, which was fine by me since when I graduated from college I planned on making a name for myself in New York, which wouldn’t be an overnight thing. It would take me years.

  While I waited for the tea to steep, my mind turned back to my morning. What were the chances that in just a few hours, I would meet two incredibly good-looking guys? And not just meet and swap general pleasantries but actually interact, make conversation? Slim to none, to be truthful. I’d been at Boston College for over three years, and this was the first instance of it occurring, or of ever seeing those two guys in particular.

  Christian, those eyes, that hair. I was pretty sure I could have gone swimming in those eyes and happily drowned. Closing my own, I remembered the feeling of his arm brushing against mine in class. A little delighted shiver ran down my spine.

  And then Justin, his shoulders, that smile. I felt so tiny standing in front of him, and I knew that if he had wrapped his arms around me I would have felt safe and sheltered. And tiny. Definitely tiny. He felt like he was a warrior, a protector, defending those who needed defending. A smile crept onto my face as I replayed his chuckle from my exploding fist bump.

  Carefully cradling my cup, I headed back to my desk and placed it on my diamond shaped purple coaster. Reaching for the box on my bed, I removed the lid, dropping it on the bed.

  Peering into the box, the first thing I was confronted with was a neon pink star post-it note that had Elizabeth's name on it along with all of her contact details. I peeled it off the paper it was stuck to and secured it to my desk so it wouldn’t get lost and continued my search. Next to come out of the box was an invoice for posters, paper snowflakes, paper lanterns, and a bunch of other winter style decorations. My eyes kind of bulged at the sum being spent on all of this, but I figured Professor Turner was all over it.

  Hmmm, I wonder if there’s a story in how much funding the college spends on extracurricular activities instead of reinvesting it in the education of its students? I shook my head, forcing myself to take my journalist’s hat off and to stick to the task at hand.

  Next out of the box was a bright pink binder with the words Winter Wonderland artistically scrawled in silver metallic marker.

  I flipped it open and was stunned by the level of organization in the folder. There were tabs for everything.

  Tickets.

  Advertising.

  Food.

  Drinks.

  Entertainment.

  Horse and Carriage Rides.

  Eggnog Tasting.

  Miniature Tree Farm.

  Ice Sculpture Designs.

  Snowman Competition.

  And on it went. I just kept flicking through the tabs, starting to feel incredibly intimidated. Elizabeth Merriton was scarily organized, and I seriously hoped she had aspirations to take over the world. Failing that, she should definitely become an event planner. This was almost crazy levels of color coordination and tab design, a little piece of me was scared to add my own notes, in case I ruined the beauty of it all.

  There was no way I could finish this off with her level of dedication, not with the time I had left.

  Seeing that my computer was finally ready to be of use, I popped everything back into the box and put the lid on, figuring if I couldn’t see it then it couldn’t judge me for the stack of unsorted papers on my desk.

  Clicking on my emails, I quickly sorted through all the unread ones, which were mostly spam, except for the articles from the journalists at T
he Press. I responded to a few and quickly sent off a couple of extra ones. Grabbing the notebook I used to contain all of my handwritten research for my articles and turned to a fresh page. There was just something about actually writing out the details by hand that sat right with me. I guess it made me feel like a reporter from the nineteen-twenties, carrying my flip spiral notepad and pencil.

  I clicked on the browser icon on my menu bar, bringing up the college's website, and quickly located the athletics area. There wasn’t much information except a listing of their upcoming games, a link to their own website, and the contact details for the coach and captain. I didn’t have time right now to click through and go through the team’s website, so I just copied and pasted the emails for the coach and captain into a blank email.

  I quickly typed up my request for an interview with someone on the team explaining that I wanted to do a human interest piece about being a full-time athlete and student at Boston College. I reread what I’d typed and added a suggestion of meeting tomorrow morning at the Coffee House just before I hit the send button.

  With all my housekeeping done for the day, I checked how much time I had left before the Winter Wonderland Committee meeting according to Elizabeth's schedule. It started at six p.m. which meant I still had a few hours left to study.

  I pulled out my PSY100 notes and textbook and got to studying. Finals were only a couple of weeks away and with the added pressure of the Winter Wonderland, this hockey article, and the ongoing study help I’d offered Justin, I needed to make sure I crammed every spare second I had with study. This was my final year, and I was not going to miss out on applications because I couldn't tell a manipulator from a narcissist.

  At five p.m., I dropped my textbook on my desk and sat back in my chair. My shoulders felt tight and achy from hunching over my notes for the past few hours, and my hand seriously cramped from overuse today. I stood up and stretched my back by bracing my hands on my hips and leaning backwards over them and then twisting from side to side.

  I glanced down at my phone but had no new messages. I frowned a little at that. I hadn’t heard from Steph since this morning and was a little bit worried about her, what with this Puck Board fiasco. I scooped it up and quickly fired off a text to her just checking in.

  I needed to grab food on my way to the committee meeting, or I wasn't going to make it through the whole session. So I picked up my bag, slotted my laptop into it, grabbed Elizabeth's box, and left my dorm room, locking the door behind me. My parents put an allowance into my bank account every month, on the proviso that I was doing well in my classes, and since I wanted to graduate as soon as possible, it was a win-win situation for me.

  I headed towards the dining hall and jumped in line, grabbing a chicken, lettuce, and mayo burger, paying at the register. Pausing at an empty table, I propped the box on the edge and quickly fixed up the wrapper so that I could walk and eat it with one hand. I dragged the box so that it rested on my left hip, wrapped my arm around the top, and then I set off to meet the committee.

  I was about half way there when I finished my burger and dumped the wrapper in a trashcan. My phone in my coat pocket started to vibrate, so I reached in and pulled it out. I didn't recognize the number, but I had a fair idea of who it was. I pulled my mitten off with my teeth and swiped the phone to answer the call with my thumb. Pinning the phone between my shoulder and my cheek, I grabbed my mitten and stuffed it in my pocket, and then reached for my phone.

  "Hayden speaking," I answered, listening to the other person. "Ah hi, so you got my email. Great, so I am almost there now, I'll call you back in about five minutes is that okay? It is? Great, I'll speak to you then." I popped my phone back into my pocket along with my hand to keep it warm.

  I headed into the social sciences building and located the meeting room on the building’s map. As I approached the room I could hear voices coming from inside, nothing unpleasant, it just sounded like a bit of chit chat.

  As I entered the room, all of the talk subsided; everyone grew quiet and just stared at me like I had something on my face, which I subtly checked by fake coughing into my hand. Nope all good. Before anyone could ask me who I was, I put the box down on the table and pulled my bag over my shoulder.

  "Hi everyone, I'm Hayden. In case you haven't heard, Elizabeth has taken a leave of absence from college for the rest of the semester, and Professor Turner has asked me to step in to finish off the Winter Wonderland Festival," I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster, while pulling out my laptop and turning it back on. I looked up at the very silent room to find them all staring at me with differing levels of shock, confusion, and horror.

  "What do you mean Elizabeth is on a leave of absence? She's the only one who knows anything about the Winter Wonderland. We are just on the committee in case she needs us." One of the girls stepped forward as she spoke, her tone slightly belligerent.

  Ahhh, that explained the crazy organization. Elizabeth was doing this on her own, whether that was by design or because this committee was useless was yet to be determined.

  "Elizabeth has mono and is in the hospital back home. Professor Turner was able to supply me with everything Elizabeth has worked on so far and all of her notes," I stated as I placed my hand on the lid of the box. Come on laptop, hurry up.

  Another girl stepped forward, this one had the look of your typical high school mean girl. "What makes you qualified to take over from Elizabeth?" she demanded. "I don't recognize you from any of the other committees."

  Oh for Pete's sake.

  "Like I said earlier, Professor Turner asked me to step in. I'm not taking over from Elizabeth, I am just going to act as her proxy," I answered her.

  Yes! Okay, now to open the program. I clicked on the icon and saw the invitation request waiting for me. I double clicked on it as the mean girl asked another question.

  "What do you mean 'proxy'? Either you’re in charge or you're not. And if you aren't, I'd like to propose that I take over." Just as mean girl finished, I saw Elizabeth appear on the screen looking a little pale and framed by a lovely hospital gown. She had an oxygen tube wrapped around her face and was curled slightly on her side. I smiled down at her, to which she smiled back, but it turned into a frown as she listened in on the conversation that was happening.

  I flipped my computer around so that the committee could see Elizabeth. "As you can see, Elizabeth is going to come to each of the remaining meetings in order to handle the organization of the remaining work. I will carry out tasks on her behalf, with your help, and I am sure we will be able to pull off the Winter Wonderland so that it matches Elizabeth's vision." I smirked back at them.

  Elizabeth's voice came from the speakers, a little breathy but still strong. "That's right Heather. I’m still in charge. Hayden is just going to be my arms and legs, ensuring the festival runs without a hitch, unlike last year’s Spring Swing that you organized, which ran out of food and had no entertainment on the day. So please, take a seat, and I can hand out the assignments for the night. Unless you had something else you would like to add?"

  Duly chastised, mean girl Heather pulled the seat out in front of her, with the rest of the committee following suit. For the rest of the meeting, she sat there leaning back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest. I’d only had to deal with the girl for a few minutes, and I was already beyond exasperated with her attitude. Hopefully, Elizabeth’s delegation of work would eventually fix that because I didn’t know if I could deal with it for a prolonged period of time.

  6

  Vincent

  Wednesday 29th November – 26 days until Christmas

  I rested my head against the window of the bus, causing it to rattle in time with the bus’s motions as we barreled down the highway on our way home from the game against the Providence Friars. The game had been tight. The Friars were evenly matched against us, not that I would admit that to them. We all knew that scouts had been in the crowd tonight, forcing us to step up our game or
be left out of the draft at the end of the year.

  Yeah, that wasn't going to happen to me.

  I replayed my first face off with Henderson, trying to figure out the move he’d done to snake the puck from me even though I’d cleared it first. He must have twisted his wrist or something, but I just couldn't see it. My hands were subconsciously trying to replicate the movement when Davidson sat next to me.

  I dropped my hoodie down behind my head and pulled my headphones off to rest around my neck; the deep bass still reached my ears.

  "Good game tonight, Morello. Scouts definitely saw you pushing hard out there. You had some serious body checks on Henderson and Burns. Play like that for the rest of the season, and I reckon you'll get picked up," Davidson mused. The guy might be an absolute ass when it came to the ladies, but he was a good captain, always making time to work with the team after the game, checking in, letting us know we did well, even if we got creamed.

  "Thanks, Cap. I'm still trying to work out what happened at that first face off. He just flicked it around me even though I had the puck covered," I replied, letting him know that I knew I’d stuffed that one up.

  "Don't beat yourself up over it, we'll figure it out before we play them again. We won tonight, and that's what matters. Just keep the speed and the strength up.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Listen, while I've got you, I received an email from the college paper, The Press, have you heard of it?"

  I nodded in acknowledgement; it was delivered to our apartment every Friday morning.

  "Yeah well, some journalist there wants to do an article on a player, and how they juggle hockey life and school work or some crap, and I figured since you’re not afraid of the limelight, that you would be the best man for the job. So, what do you say?"