Chapter 3 Chapter 2: Winter

He wiped water from his face with that annoyingly perfect smile that could probably make a statue blush. "Careful, Winter. Next week at the tournament, you'd better watch your back. I'm coming for you—never lost a race in my life."

He flexed like we were backstage at a bodybuilding contest, and even though I saw the silliness of it, I couldn't help but feel a wave of annoyance. For someone effortlessly stunning, he was surprisingly obsessed with my losing. Old-school high school vibe, right?

I narrowed my gaze, holding back the sarcasm bubbling just beneath the surface. "Oh, come on, Paul. Do you think everyone actually believes the trophy is up for grabs? That'll be my name engraved on it in glorious gold, while you sit there, your biggest fan club gathered around you, crying for the glory of your perfectly sculpted abs."

The splashes clearly proved my point, and with a flick of my wrist, I sent another wave crashing over him, enjoying his surprised expression before he recoiled, laughing. The playful tension between us floated like warmth in the spring sun—appearing friendly but tinged with a hidden undertone of competitive anger.

"Nice try, Bloody Belly, but I'll win for sure."

He pushed off the edge of the pool and dove into the water, the lines of his muscular back vanishing as he glided below the surface. It didn't take long for him to reappear at the opposite end, moving with the speed and precision of a dolphin, as if this was a party he was born into. Flipping back over, he surfaced from the water, shimmering with droplets that caught the light like jeweled ornaments against his tanned skin.

Shrugging off the competitive irritation that swirled in my chest, I couldn't help but grumble, "You know, just because you've never lost doesn't mean it isn't possible, right? Bet you haven't even hit the bottom of a pool yet."

His eyes sparkled like the water's surface in the sun—each glance a challenge, each moment a contest. "I'll take that bet, Bloodybelly." He smirked, diving back in, kicking up a whirlwind of bubbles as he vanished into the depths once more. The guy had this relentless drive that could either inspire admiration or give a headache; I hadn't quite decided yet.

But there I was, faced with a choice: join the chatter of the swim team or retreat into my bubble, the warm world fading away around me. The familiarity of the pool, the repetition of strokes, and the way the water cradled me felt like an identity, no matter who was in the lanes around me.

As I completed a few more laps, my mind wandered. I didn't bother to confront Paul Johnston or let him become the focus of my world—despite how he tried to make himself seem that way with each comment. I wasn't here to defeat my enemies or to get along with random teammates seeking fame; this was my refuge.

If we were two snowflakes drifting in the icy abyss, I knew I'd melt into the water, while he danced above, hoping to draw attention. And if my existence remained an icy shadow in the overwhelming light of his winter, then at least being a comb jelly gave me some tangy edge—on a good day, anyway.

Just as I prepared to push for another lap, Paul reappeared, looking like a bronze statue from ancient Greek mythology, ready to bring another round of annoyance. "Hey, Winter," he called out, suppressing a smile, "shame about that nickname. You know what it means, right?"

"Of course," I shot back, kicking away toward the far side again. "I'm sure you Googled it thoroughly—that's how you found out I'm clearly one of the most graceful swimmers around."

Paul laughed, and part of me couldn't help but let a reluctant grin slip through. We weren't quite enemies, yet I was determined to keep our relationship free from any romantic notions or attempts at charm. The rivalry was enough of a distraction; I didn't need more chaos than the swirling confusion I felt inside.

With each stroke, I remembered that this was mine—my pool, my competition, and my space. Uninvited or not, I was determined to define what it meant to be Winter, my name echoing back to me with beauty and ichor from the depths. So let Paul get layered in his idiocy; I was here to swim, and he wouldn't knock even an ounce of that resolve out of me—or so I would manage to convince myself.

And as I took another breath and pushed off the wall, I felt the water envelop me; the whispers wrapped around my pulse like a promise, urging me to go faster, to dive deeper. I wrapped this thought around me, fully aware that no amount of irritation could sink me, not even the golden-blond boy who believed his charms could break my resolve.

After swim practice, I jumped into my shiny red Suzuki Jimny, its bright color standing out against the cold, muted shades of the winter landscape outside. I drove along the winding roads, my heart still racing from the adrenaline of practice. The smell of chlorine clung to my skin like a second layer of frost, but that was nothing compared to the warm hug waiting for me at my favorite coffee shop. This place was my sanctuary, my escape from the chill that seemed to seep into my bones.

As I pulled into the parking lot, the coffee shop's warm glow beckoned, promising cups of steaming hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and sprinkled with cocoa. And then there were the blueberry scones, flaky and sweet, with berries bursting forth like tiny, delicious fireworks. I grinned to myself as I parked the Jimny and stepped out into the crisp air, feeling oddly buoyant despite the chilly bite.

Inside, the comforting aroma of coffee and baked goods enveloped me like a favorite blanket. I made my way to the counter, where I was greeted by Delta, the owner's son's fiancée, whom I had come to adore during my frequent visits. Delta had a warmth about her that felt like sunshine breaking through winter clouds; she was from a warmer part of the country, where she and her fiancé both graduated from the University of Economics. It was she who encouraged me to apply for an early course at the Marine Sciences College, after she heard about my dream of studying marine life. Winning the competition and receiving strong recommendations from teachers are my tickets to realizing my dreams and perhaps finding a place where I truly belong.