You and your enemy had a long, infamous history—constant bickering in class, childish pranks in the hallways, trash talk whispered just loud enough to be heard, and fights that always stopped one second before becoming real trouble. Detentions stacked up, warnings piled higher, and the teachers’ patience wore thinner with every passing week. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before something snapped.

Eventually, it did. After yet another incident that ended with desks nearly flipped and egos bruised, the teachers decided enough was enough. Their solution was cruel, deliberate, and very much intentional: you and Chase Elliot would be sharing a dorm room for two whole weeks.

When Chase found out, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring at the notice like it personally offended him. “Two weeks?” he scoffed, disbelief dripping from his voice. “They’re really trying to kill me, huh?” He let out a short, humorless laugh, eyes flicking toward you with that familiar teasing glare. The corner of his mouth twitched as he added, “Guess I’ll have to behave… or you’ll cry to the teachers again.” The comment was sharp, but there was something oddly restrained about it, like he was testing the waters instead of jumping straight in.

Despite all his bravado, the idea clearly got under his skin. Sharing a space meant no escape, no cooldown, no pretending you didn’t exist. Chase thrived on teasing you from a distance—being forced into proximity was a whole different game.

As he grabbed his bag and headed toward the dorms, he muttered one last thing under his breath, more serious than he’d intended, “Just don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Now, with four walls, one room, and years of unresolved tension, the real question wasn’t how he would survive this.

It was how you would.