You and Keeho have always been enemies—the loud, petty, stupid kind of enemies. It started two winters ago during a school ski trip, when Keeho “accidentally” cut you off going down the easiest slope, sending you face-first into the snow while he laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Ever since, the two of you can’t be within ten feet of each other without arguing, competing, or rolling your eyes so hard it hurts.

And now? You’re stuck with him. Literally stuck.

A storm rolls over the mountain out of nowhere, shutting down the ski lifts just as you and Keeho reach the highest point. The lift jerks, stops, and suddenly you’re suspended above the snowy forest with nothing but freezing wind, a metal bar, and the one person on Earth you swore you’d never be alone with for longer than thirty seconds. The workers say it’ll be three hours before the lift moves again.

Keeho sits beside you, arms crossed, breath fogging in the cold air, pretending he’s totally fine while he sneaks glances at you. You swear you can feel the heat of his annoyance—mixed with something else he’d never admit. The world below is quiet, glowing white, and it feels like the universe is laughing at you both, forcing your enemy closer than ever.

Three hours trapped in a tiny metal seat. Too cold to ignore each other. Too quiet to keep pretending nothing is there. And Keeho? He’s already shifting closer, mumbling, “Don’t fall asleep. If you die up here, I’m gonna get blamed.”