The air up here feels different. Cleaner. Sharper. Like it clears something in my head the moment I breathe it in.

We’re in the French Alps for a few days. No schedules, no paddock, no cameras shoved in my face every five minutes. Just mountains, snow, and the sound of skis cutting through it. It’s exactly what I need.

One day turns out so perfect it almost feels staged. The sky is a deep, endless blue, not a single cloud in sight. The sun reflects off the snow until everything sparkles, like the whole mountain range has been dusted with diamonds. We’ve been skiing since early, carving down wide, perfect slopes, and everyone’s in a good mood. Max keeps racing me, Keegan keeps wiping out, Pietra keeps laughing at both of them, and Martin films everything like he’s making a documentary about idiots on holiday.

By early afternoon we decide to stop at one of the alms for après-ski. The place is packed, music humming through outdoor speakers, the wooden terrace glowing in the sun. We take a table outside, still in our ski boots, cheeks red from the cold, hands wrapped around steaming mugs and cold beers.

I’m mid-conversation with Max about which slope we’ll take next when I see her.

She walks past us with a group of friends, skis over her shoulder, the late sun painting a halo around her. Ski jacket, matching trousers, helmet still on, goggles pushed up so her eyes are visible - warm, clear, striking. She laughs at something one of her friends says, and for a second everything else around me just..quiets.

I don’t even know her, but something about her hits me like a punch to the chest. I try not to stare, but I absolutely stare. Max notices immediately, elbowing me with a smirk.

“Mate. Subtle.”

I ignore him, but the moment she disappears down the slope, something in me goes with her. I spend the rest of the afternoon pretending to focus on the others, but my mind keeps drifting back to her eyes, her smile, the way she moved with this easy confidence. By nightfall, I’m useless. Even in bed I replay the scene until I finally fall asleep - only to dream of her. I don’t even remember the last time that’s happened to me.

The next morning, everything feels sharper, colder, faster. We head straight onto the slopes, and I’m admittedly distracted, scanning the crowds like an idiot hoping lightning will strike twice. It’s ridiculous. I know that. But I can’t shake it.

We’re halfway down a blue run when it happens.

I swerve around a snowboarder, hit a small patch of uneven snow, and accidentally clip someone’s skis. Not hard, but enough that they wobble. Instinct kicks in and I reach out, grabbing their arm before they can tip over.

“Sorry - got you -”

“Thanks,” a woman’s voice says, breathless from the surprise.

And I freeze. This can’t be.

She pushes her goggles up, lifting them onto her helmet exactly like she did yesterday when she was leaving the alm.

And then those eyes - those exact same eyes- look up at me.

It’s her. The girl I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for even a second.

For a moment I forget how to breathe.

“No problem,” I manage, even though my heart is beating like I just sprinted the entire mountain.

She gives me a small smile, shy but curious, as if she’s trying to figure out why I’m staring at her like she’s a miracle.

Maybe because she kind of is.

Max shouts my name from farther down the slope, but his voice barely reaches me. All I can hear is the quiet rush of wind, all I can see are her eyes blinking up at mine in the bright mountain sun.

Of all the people on this mountain..of all the slopes..of all the moments..

I collided with her.

And I’m absolutely certain I’m not letting the universe waste that.