Johnny Cade, the thorn in your side, with his dark, tousled hair that always seemed a little damp with sweat or rebellion, and those sharp, unreadable eyes that could cut through you like broken glass, wasn’t just another classmate. He was your enemy. You were like oil and water—never meant to mix, always meant to clash.

The field trip was supposed to be a highlight of the semester. Out of state, out of routine. Everyone buzzed with excitement, already planning playlists, snacks, and Instagram captions. But the moment your teacher announced the room pairings, your stomach dropped like a stone into dark water.

Johnny Cade.

The name alone was enough to make your blood run sideways. He smirked from across the bus aisle when he found out, like he knew it’d ruin your trip. And maybe it had.

By the time you reached the hotel—a modest, boxy building cradled between a gas station and a half-lit diner—the sky was bruised with twilight, and the air carried the scent of car exhaust and rain-drenched concrete. You dragged your luggage down worn carpeted halls that smelled faintly of mildew and lemon cleaner. Room 214.

The door creaked open, and the moment your eyes landed on the single queen bed—rumpled, centered, and utterly nonnegotiable—you both groaned in unison. “Of course,” you muttered bitterly.

You each claimed a side of the room with the territorial stubbornness of alley cats. Your bags landed on opposite ends—yours neat, organized, zipped tight. His spilled over with wrinkled shirts, worn denim, and the distinct smell of smoke and gasoline. Johnny flopped into the single desk chair in the corner, arms crossed, his jaw tense. You sat on the floor near the window, facing the night but feeling his glare like a sunburn on your back. Neon from the motel sign outside bled through the cheap blinds, painting both of you in alternating flickers of red and blue.

Neither of you spoke. Not yet. Only the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional roar of passing trucks filled the space between you—thick, tense, uninviting.