The winter competition at Davidson High has had the same schedule since forever. Last Saturday before the holidays and school break, from 9 A.M. to 4 P.M. with a couple of small breaks and a bigger one for lunch at midday.

The competition is organized by age groups, gender and strokes. The female team goes first, starting from the first age group - the freshmans (or juniors) -, then the sophomores (or advanced) - which was my group -, and then the seniors. Same goes for the male team, which meant that Noah and Ben's group was the last one to go.

The various groups are divided into four categories, representing the four strokes - backstroke, breaststroke, butterfly stroke, and sidestroke. Noah was competing in the breaststroke category while Ben and I were taking the backstroke.

Then, the swimmer with the best timing on each category and respective age group wins and is selected to compete against swimmers from other schools at the swim meet, which usually takes place nearing the end of the school year. The winner takes the trophy home and brings another victory to the school.

The bleachers were packed, it was mostly parents and other family members, and friends, who came to support their swimmer.

From the edge of the pool, where I was standing, I spotted my dads right away, sitting in their usual spot, right next to my aunt and uncle, all of them with their phones and cameras in hand, ready to document the event. A few bleachers down was my group of friends - Chloé, Carter, Kyle and Harper, all sitting next to each other and talking non stop, while laughing and sharing a bucket of popcorn.

Refocusing back on my task, I took a couple of deep breaths before pulling my goggles down and adjusting them to my eyes.

When the sound of the whistle was heard loud and clear across the arena, I gracefully jumped into the water and twirled my body, facing the ceiling.I moved my legs up and down in sync with my arm movements, the key to owning a great amount of control in the water while also achieving speed.

After a few laps of repeating the process, I ended up in first place, with the best timing, and jumped back out of the water with a beaming smile on my face. In a swift movement, I pushed the goggles up, resting them on top of the cap and made a beeline to where the water bottles were, taking one with me and drinking it fast and furiously.

Now, it was the seniors' turn and I stuck around to watch them, curious to see who was winning this round. After Danielle conquered that title, it was lunch break and the competition would pick up again at 1 P.M., with the male team taking the water.

* * *

Today's competition couldn't have ended better, with Ben and Noah achieving the best timing scores in their respective category, which meant that the three of us were automatically selected to go to the swim meet, to take on the best swimmers from other schools.

After showering and trading the swimwear for some normal, ordinary clothes, Noah and I took a seat next to each other on the middle section of the second row. With everyone gone and out of the bleachers, we had the arena all to ourselves.

During all of our extra swim practices, and through the course of our exponentially increasing and growing friendship, Noah and I ended up pushing each other, in the best way. Without one another, we could have never achieved our glorious goals today.

"Congratulations, Willy!" I said with a wide smile, emphasizing the nickname I've heard his best friend call him more than once. Noah chuckled.

"You too, Barbie doll." It was the first time in a very long time that Noah called me that, and I didn't seem to mind that much, now.

"Was that your mom I saw earlier?" I asked, thinking about the woman I saw Noah hug tightly after the medals were distributed.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't introduce you to her." He said before sliding closer to me.

"No, don't worry about it." I looked at him before adding, "You look so much like her, that's why I asked."

My last sentence seemed to put a genuine smile on his face, and I found myself smiling softly, too.

"So, school's over for a while... Are you excited for Christmas break?"

"Nah, I'll just be working." He shrugged before dropping his head, his black curls falling onto his eyeline.

"Well, what about Christmas?"

"I hate Christmas." Noah stated, firmly and assertively, as opposed to the lightness and easygoingness always present in his voice whenever he talked.

"Wow." Was the only word I said before letting out a dry chuckle.

"What?"

"We just..." I searched my brain for the right words. "We really could not be any more different."

When he gave me a puzzled look, I let him in on my thoughts.

"My birthday is on Christmas." He mouthed an Oh, as he got my point. "I was born and adopted on Christmas day. It's my favorite day of the whole year." I explained, while unconsciously fidgeting with my fingers.

"Wow, I did not see that one coming." He chuckled before adding. "I don't actually know anyone who's born on Christmas day."

Silence.

I gave him his time, but I eventually asked the question that's been brewing in my mind since he admitted to not liking Christmas.

"What made you such a grinch?"

"You sure you wanna know?" He lifted an eyebrow as he glanced at me sideways.

Why would I not want to know? was the first thought that popped into my head, but I didn't let him know.

Instead, I kept my eyes on him, unable to look away as his whole demeanor changed. That seemed enough for him to take as a yes.

"I was ten at the time." He started and judging by his first words, I could already tell that this wasn't going to be an easy story to tell. Which, somehow, made me only more curious about it.

He played around with white plastic tip of his black all star laces, while looking anywhere but in my direction - Classic Noah. These were a couple of tics that I've picked up on since I've met him.

"I was so excited for Christmas. Like every kid is, you know." I nodded in agreement but remained silent, and waited for him to go on.

"It was Christmas Eve, and me and my parents were all waiting for my brother to come home and have dinner." His fingertips eventually released the shoe laces.

"My brother," He stopped himself to tell me his sibling's name. "Dylan, was five years older than me. He was fifteen, and he had been acting out for a while. I guess I can tell that now with more ease than I did at the time."

"It was just nearing seven o'clock and he wasn't picking up his phone so my dad stormed out and went out to find him. He was hanging with some friends at their place. They were..." He trailed off, reliving that day while at the same time, feeling hurt all over again in the process of going down the memory lane, and my heart couldn't help but break for him.

"They were drinking and doing some other stuff. My father found him high off his face. God, when he came back, dragging Dylan by the collar of his hoodie..." He exhaled. "It was brutal. My brother was drunk and high and my parents were so mad at him they could have eaten him alive."

"But Dylan had a reason." He said, and somehow I got even more curious. "My brother was carrying a secret no kid should have to carry and... it all blew up that night."

"What happened?"

"My mother sent me upstairs in a rush, wanting me to be nowhere near the three of them when my parents would be telling Dylan off."

"But you didn't." I said, finishing his sentence, knowing his trail of thought.

"Of course, I didn't." He confirmed with a nod. "I went upstairs, but stayed in the hallway, hidden by the staircase, eavesdropping on the whole thing."

Noah let out another deep sigh, and I took that as a hint that all he'd told me until now wasn't the worst part of this story.

"Turns out, my brother had found out that my father had been cheating on my mom for five years." He paused again and I found my heart breaking for him all over again. "As you can guess, that night was a whole lot of yelling and shouting and crying and throwing things."

"Noah, I am so sorry." My voice cracked and he turned in my direction to look at me for the first time.

"My father was so mad at him when really..." He shrugged. "He should have just been mad at himself, you know? Because the guilt of knowing about my dad's little dirty secret was eating my brother alive, and that was the only reason why Dylan started hanging out with those bad influences."

I nodded, agreeing and understanding all that Noah was telling me, and slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Did Dylan ever think about telling your mom?" That question rolled out of my tongue in a low whisper. I was almost too afraid to ask it out loud.

Noah answered me with another question, his tone matching mine.

"How do you tell your mother that her marriage is over because your father got bored and traded her for a new model, like she was some piece of meat?"

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say to Noah that would make him feel better. This was brutal. More brutal than what I had ever imagined.

Was this what was behind Dylan's death?

That question lingered in my brain too long, but I fought the urge to ask it out loud, knowing all too well how broken Noah was after this conversation, and not wanting to push him into saying anything more than he was ready for.

"So, of course, there was no Christmas at the Wilson house that year. My brother slept the hangover off, and on the next day, instead of opening our presents like a normal family on Christmas morning, my mother told us that she was filing for divorce and that daddy," Noah said it like it was a dirty word. "Was spending Christmas with my grandparents in New Jersey. Which, of course, wasn't true. My mom had just shoved him outta the house right then and there."

"Did you ever see him again after that day?" I asked but Noah instantly nodded in denial, before explaining some more.

"He came back around one day, to fetch his things for the big move but I was at swim practice." He closed his eyes before adding, "Thank God."

And I thought I was the one with a tough background. My past is nothing compared to his. My parents would never put me through what his did.

The more I hung out with Noah, the more I knew about him. The easy going guy, with witty comebacks and great music taste, was merely a shield that covered up the multiple layers he slowly peeled off around me and that made him who he is. Who, layer after layer, I am slowly getting to know.

And I liked this Noah.

It's like finding out these things about him only made him more real. More human. More flawed, too. And I loved it. I found my curiosity piquing, and wanting to know more and more, as if I could never get enough of him and his secrets.

"So, I'm not a grinch." He stated, bringing back the smile that I hadn't seen since this conversation started . "I just hate Christmas because that was when my entire world turned upside down."

And I couldn't help but wonder, what other layers did he have that he hadn't peeled off by now?

All I knew was that I couldn't wait to find out.

* * *

author's note: give me a second while i pick up the pieces of my heart that shattered around the floor for noah and his past, while writing this chapter 💔

let's hear it - did you expect this?

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xoxo, mars