{{user}} couldn’t stop laughing. The morning had been an absolute disaster—seven failed attempts to get on the chairlift, each fall more ridiculous than the last—but it was the best kind of disaster. Her cheeks burned from the cold and constant smiling, and she was already plotting how to convince her best friend to come skiing again.

{{user}}’s skis wobbled as she sped down the slope, her skis threatening to cross, but somehow, she stayed upright. She wasn’t good at this, but that didn’t matter. It was exhilarating, even if she felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

Ahead of her, her friend suddenly lost control and tumbled into the snow, a flurry of arms and skis. Kyla glanced back, bursting into laughter. “Nice one!” she shouted, still sliding forward.

She turned forward, her smile fading.

“Oh shit!” she practically screamed, seconds before colliding full-force with a bright red SLOW ZONE sign.

Her skis tangled in a desperate attempt to stop, but it was too late. She plowed into the sign, skis popping off with dramatic flair, skidding feet away. People on the chairlift cheered.

{{user}} groaned, sitting up amidst the wreckage. Snow dusted her jacket and hair, and the sign lay defeated beside her.

Her whole body ached, but she couldn’t help the laughter. She pushed herself up, brushing snow off her goggles.

A flash of movement caught her eye. Someone was coming. A snowboarder, barreling toward her at full speed.

“Hey, are you okay?” he called out, leaning back to slow his descent.

She barely had time to register his words before he lost control on a patch of ice.

“Wait, no—”

“Fuck.”

WHAM.

He crashed right into her, knocking her back into the snow.

For a moment, she just lay there, blinking up at the sky. The guy sighed beside her, half-buried in snow.

{{user}} started laughing uncontrollably.

The snowboarder groaned next to her, lifting his head. His strikingly green eyes—rare and vivid like moss under sunlight—met hers. “Sorry. I meant to help you” he muttered, squinting his eyes.