Asher stepped out first and came around to my side, opening the door for me like a gentleman. I smiled softly as I took his hand, letting him help me out. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft golden hue, and for a moment, the world felt still.
Then I looked around—and my breath caught.
We were standing at the entrance of a stunning vineyard estate. Rows of grapevines stretched far into the distance like a sea of emerald green, each one glowing under the kiss of the setting sun. Stone paths wound through the landscape, leading toward a rustic Italian-style villa covered in flowering vines. Lanterns hung from wooden posts, unlit for now, but I could imagine how magical they'd look when night fell.
A pergola sat off to the right, draped with white fabric that danced in the breeze. Beneath it was a table set for two—crystal glasses, silver cutlery, and a delicate bouquet of white roses and wildflowers in the center.
"This is…" I trailed off, still trying to take it all in.
"Too much?" he asked quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"No," I breathed, turning to look at him. "It's beautiful."
He nodded once and gestured toward the table. "Come on. I asked them to set it up before we arrived."
We walked slowly, side by side. Asher said nothing, but every few steps, I felt his gaze on me. That familiar gaze—like he knew me from somewhere, like he was remembering something. It made my skin tingle.
We sat across from each other, and a waiter soon appeared with two glasses of sparkling juice and menus, which Asher waved off gently.
"I already ordered," he said with a small smile.
I raised a brow. "Confident, are we?"
He shrugged. "I pay attention."
Our drinks clinked gently as we sipped in silence for a moment, letting the stillness settle.
"So," I said, folding my hands in front of me. "Why'd you transfer so late in the year?"
He paused—just for a second—but long enough that I noticed. His eyes flickered away, as if searching for the right words among the grapevines.
"I needed to start over," he said finally, his voice low. "Things got... messy back home."
I nodded slowly. I didn't press. I knew that tone. I'd used it before myself—when explanations were too heavy to unpack over dinner.
"Well, I'm glad you did," I said, gently.
He looked back at me, and that lingering gaze returned, just a little longer this time. "Me too."
A breeze brushed through, carrying the sweet scent of grapes and something faintly floral. My heart fluttered.
"You don't talk much," I said with a soft laugh. "Not unless I ask you something."
"I talk when it matters."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "How mysterious of you."
He smirked, then added, "Speaking of surprises... I joined the drama club."
I blinked. "Wait. You what?"
He leaned back in his chair, arms folded lazily. "Mona asked. She said they were desperate."
"She is desperate," I said, laughing. "But you don't even seem like the drama type."
"I'm not. But I thought I'd try something new. Besides…" He paused, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before meeting my eyes again. "It gives me an excuse to hang around you."
My breath caught for a second. "Smooth," I murmured, cheeks burning.
He gave a half-smile and picked up his glass again, sipping like he hadn't just made my heart stop.
We fell into a rhythm after that. I told him about the time I tripped over a school stage prop during rehearsals and had to finish the scene limping. He told me about a sketchbook he used to keep hidden in the back of his closet. We laughed, teased, and shared little pieces of our lives like puzzle pieces we didn't know fit together.
But every now and then, in the quiet moments between laughter and stories, Asher's eyes would linger—just a beat too long. Like he was remembering something. Or someone.
And I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than what he was letting on
After dessert, Asher stood up first, offering me his hand again with that charming smile I was quickly getting used to. "Come on," he said, "I saved the best part for last."
I blinked. "There's more?"
"Wine tasting," he said simply. "I figured we should do something fun after all that... vulnerability."
He wasn't wrong. We'd shared more than just food at dinner—we'd shared pieces of ourselves. Some tiny, some that felt bigger than I was ready to admit.
I took his hand, letting him lead me through the cobbled path behind the restaurant area. The vineyard stretched wide and golden in the soft light of the setting sun. Lanterns were strung above us, flickering like trapped stars. It all felt so surreal, like I was inside a dream I didn't want to wake up from.
Inside a rustic wooden tasting room, a young woman welcomed us with a cheerful smile and lined up a series of wine glasses. Asher glanced at me with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Ready to pretend we're wine connoisseurs?"
I laughed. "I already am. Can't you tell by my very refined taste in lemon tarts?"
He chuckled, that rare, deep sound that made my chest flutter. "Right. You're obviously a pro."
We sampled the wines one by one, trying to mimic the swish-sniff-sip process everyone talks about. I almost choked on the first glass and he laughed so hard he nearly dropped his.
"Okay, that one tastes like burnt wood," I whispered after one sip.
He leaned in. "You mean 'oak-aged with a smoky finish'?"
"Oh my gosh, you sound like a brochure."
We tried everything from sweet rosé to dry red blends, comparing our completely unprofessional opinions and rating them on our made-up scale. At one point, I told him a dark wine tasted like "melted midnight" and he just stared at me for a second.
"What?" I asked.
He smiled. "You always describe things like you're painting with words."
I froze, not knowing how to respond to that. No one had ever noticed that about me.
We were both tipsy—not from the wine, but from the comfort, the laughter, the way the hours slipped away unnoticed. By the time we stepped back outside, the sky was painted in deep blue and streaks of violet.
The drive home was... quiet again. But a different kind of quiet. Comfortable. Electric.
When we pulled up to my house, he stepped out and jogged around to open the door for me.
"Still a gentleman," I teased, stepping out slowly.
"Only for you," he said under his breath.
He followed me to the porch, hands in his pockets. I turned to him, suddenly unsure of how to say goodbye. My heart was doing gymnastics.
"I had a really great time," I said, smiling softly.
He nodded, stepping a bit closer. "So did I."
We stood there for a second too long. The air between us shifted, heavy with something I didn't know how to name. I could feel it—his stare, intense and unflinching, like he was trying to read my soul through my eyes.
I panicked and stuck my hand out.
For a handshake.
A freaking handshake.
His brows lifted a little in surprise, but he recovered quickly, gently taking my hand in his. His fingers were warm, firm. He held my hand longer than necessary. I started to pull away, but he didn't let go immediately.
"Goodnight, Andria."
I cleared my throat, pulling back. "Goodnight, Asher."
He walked back to his car, glanced at me one last time, and then drove off. I stood there watching the taillights until they disappeared around the corner.
Then I finally stepped inside.
The house was quiet—probably empty. I didn't even check. I floated up the stairs like I was still in that vineyard, still tasting his laughter and that look in his eyes.
I collapsed onto my bed, arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling. My heart was still racing. My cheeks still warm.
What. Just. Happened?
I grabbed my phone, no hesitation.
Calling Mona.
She picked up immediately. "Andriaaaaaa! Details. Now!"
I squealed. "Mona. It was perfect."
"I KNEW IT!" she shouted, almost deafening me. "Where did he take you? What did you wear? Wait, wait, I helped pick the outfit—forget that. Did he kiss you?!"
I laughed, face heating up. "No! He did not kiss me."
She groaned. "Ugh, fine. Start from the beginning."
And I did. I told her everything—the dinner, the wine tasting, the hand-holding, the way he looked at me like I was more than just a girl he barely knew. Like he knew me. Like he'd seen me before.
"I swear, Mona," I whispered, "sometimes it's like he's remembering something I've forgotten."
"Ooooh, mysterious much? He gives 'reincarnated soulmate' vibes."
"Stop," I said, laughing. "Also—big news."
"What?"
"He's joining the drama club."
She screamed so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
"YOU'RE LYING."
"I'm not. He told me himself."
"This is the best day ever. I can already see it—Romeo and Juliet, starring Asher and Andria."
"I will hang up," I threatened, though I was grinning.
We talked for what felt like hours—about the night, about the way he touched my hand, about how weirdly familiar he felt. At some point, our voices got softer, slower, until we were both half-asleep on the phone.
"I think I like him, Mona," I murmured, eyes fluttering shut.
"I know you do," she replied gently.
I didn't even remember hanging up. I just drifted off, the sound of his voice and the sparkle in his eyes playing on repeat in my dreams.
The next morning, I woke up with the soft glow of sunlight streaming through my window. My body felt like it was still floating from last night. As I stretched, my mind replayed the moments with Asher—his laugh, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. I shook my head, trying to focus on getting ready for school.
I followed my usual morning routine—shower, breakfast, and a quick glance in the mirror. I settled on a simple yet cute outfit: a black sweater with a slight off-the-shoulder cut and my favorite pair of skinny jeans. As I grabbed my phone, a text from Asher lit up the screen.
"How did you sleep? Hope I didn't keep you up too late last night."
I smiled, heart skipping a beat. I quickly typed back, "I slept fine, thank you. And thank you for yesterday. I had a great time." I stared at my message for a moment before hitting send, biting my lip.
Downstairs, Xander was already gone. Typical. He'd probably left early for football practice or whatever it was that kept him from being a decent brother. I muttered under my breath, "What a jerk," before grabbing my bag and heading out.
Mona's car beeped outside, and I rushed out to meet her. "Coming!!!" I yelled, swinging open the door. She waved from the driver's seat, a huge grin on her face.
She was blasting music as usual, and I slid into the passenger seat with a laugh. "Good morning, diva," I teased, settling into my seat.
She winked at me. "Good morning to you too. Ready for school?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," I groaned, slouching down in the seat as she revved the engine.
We started singing along to "Lovers" by Anna North. The lyrics were just a little cheesy, but the fun was in belting it out like we were the stars of our own musical.
"Reach out and show a little loving!" Mona sang, her voice off-key but full of energy.
"I can't see, can't see it!" I joined in, and together we laughed and belted out the next few lines as we sped down the road.
When we pulled up to school, we were still singing the last few lines when we bumped into Kyle. He was standing near the entrance, looking like he was in his own little world until he noticed us.
"Hey, Andria," he said, his eyes meeting mine. His smile was that familiar one—the one that always made my stomach flutter.
But this time... there was nothing. Nothing at all. I realized I hadn't thought about him in a while—not with everything going on with Asher. That sudden realization surprised me. Maybe I was finally letting go.
"Hey, Kyle," I replied, smiling back. "How's it going?"
He nodded, his eyes lingering just a second longer than usual. "Good. You?"
"Same," I said, quickly glancing at Mona, who was already grinning at me like she knew exactly what was going on in my head. She nudged me with her elbow, and I tried not to laugh.
We said our goodbyes and headed to our lockers. I grabbed my geometry books, trying to ignore the slow, annoying start to the week.
"Ugh, I hate Mondays," Mona sighed, leaning against the lockers with an exaggerated frown.
I shot her a look. "Tell me about it. I swear, it's like the universe punishes us for having fun over the weekend."
We both rolled our eyes dramatically, but the moment was cut short when I heard a familiar voice.
"Hey, Andria."
I turned to see Asher approaching us. His dark eyes locked on mine immediately, and my stomach did that fluttering thing again. Was I seriously still affected by him after everything?
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. Mona, of course, was practically glowing, making it hard for me to keep my composure.
Asher looked at me for a moment, his gaze soft and knowing. "How's your morning going?" he asked, his voice smooth like the wine we'd tasted last night. It was impossible to ignore the way he was looking at me, the weight of his attention pulling at me.
Before I could answer, Mona waved her hand in front of him, grinning. "Hey, Asher. You remember me, right?"
Asher smiled at her too, his gaze shifting for just a second. "Of course, Mona. How could I forget?"
Mona shot me a look. Definitely not subtle. I rolled my eyes, but I was still grinning.
"Geometry?" Asher asked, glancing at my books.
"Yeah, unfortunately," I replied with a playful smirk.
He chuckled. "Maybe I'll see you in class then." He looked at me again, and I felt that familiar pull.
Mona cleared her throat loudly, and I could tell she was about to go full matchmaker on us. "Well, you two lovebirds better get going. The bell's about to ring."
I shot Mona a glare, but Asher only smiled and nodded. "I'll see you around, Andria."
"Yeah, see you," I replied, watching him walk away, his presence lingering in the air long after he'd gone.
Mona was practically vibrating beside me. "Oh my god, that was... intense. Do you see what I see? The chemistry is off the charts."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Mona, you're ridiculous. But yeah, maybe."
She nudged me again. "Maybe? Andria, there's definitely something there. Trust me. You need to stop playing it cool."
We headed to class, both of us falling into an easy conversation, but in the back of my mind, all I could think about was that look Asher gave me. That intensity. That pull. Could it really be as simple as chemistry? Or was there something more... something I wasn't seeing yet?
After first period—geometry, boring as hell—I dragged myself toward the only place that didn't feel like a prison: the theater. Drama club was my escape, my sanctuary. But today, something felt... different.
Mona was unusually excited, practically skipping down the hallway. "You're going to freak out," she whispered to me like we were plotting a heist.
I raised a brow. "Why do I feel like that's not a good thing?"
"Oh, just wait." She winked.
Once we stepped into the theater, the familiar scent of dust, wood, and backstage makeup hit me. Students were already gathering. Mona strutted up to the podium like she owned the stage—which, let's be honest, she basically did. As president of the drama club, she had the charisma of a Broadway star.
"Okay, okay! Settle down, everyone!" Mona called, her voice echoing through the room.
The chatter died. She held up a small, worn notebook like it was the Holy Grail.
"So... I wrote something," she began, beaming. "It's a story that's really close to my heart. And I want us to bring it to life. Together."
A few whispers of curiosity rippled through the group.
"It's a romance," Mona continued, her voice turning softer. "About a girl—Lily—who's terminally ill and only has a month left to live. Then she meets this guy, Caleb, and they fall—hard. The kind of love that doesn't just touch your heart—it grabs your soul. When she dies... a piece of him dies too." She paused dramatically, letting it sink in. "It's called Lost Pieces."
The title alone made my chest tighten a little.
Then Mona clapped her hands together, all sunshine again. "And of course, this wouldn't be a proper romance without some kissing scenes."
The entire room broke into gasps, laughter, and a few dramatic groans.
"What?!" I hissed under my breath.
I wasn't the only one startled, but Mona looked completely unfazed, flipping a page in her notebook. "Relax. It's acting. Passion. Emotion. Besides, nothing steamy—just... tasteful moments that make the story real." She grinned wickedly. "You'll survive."
No, I won't, I thought.
Mona looked up. "Now, for the cast." She began assigning roles, calling names like she was conducting a symphony. I half-listened, still caught up on the "kissing scenes" part.
"And now... the leads," Mona said, her voice lilting with excitement.
I knew it. I knew something insane was coming.
"Andria Knight," she said, staring directly at me with that mischievous gleam in her eyes, "you're playing Lily."
I blinked. "Oh... okay."
"And for Caleb," she turned her head slowly, "Asher."
The name hit me like a slap.
My eyes shot to him. He was leaning casually against a seat in the back row, arms crossed. Our eyes locked—and everything else faded. The air felt heavier. The way he looked at me, calm and unreadable, made my stomach twist into knots.
This is a terrible idea, I thought. Horrible. Who's letting Mona write scripts again?
I could already feel heat crawling up my neck.
Mona clasped her hands together, clearly pleased with herself. "You two are going to be magic together. I can see it already."
I swallowed. Hard. "Uh... Mona?" I started to protest.
She held up a finger. "Nope. No backing out. I've made my decision. And come on—your chemistry is insane. Everyone sees it. Now we just get to put it on stage."
I turned back to Asher, who hadn't moved. His gaze still held mine, steady and intense. Was that a hint of amusement in his eyes?
He gave me a little smirk. Just enough to make my heart flutter in betrayal.
I quickly looked away, trying to hide my blush.
After the meeting ended, I lingered behind while most of the club members filtered out. I needed a moment to breathe. This was going to be a disaster. Kissing scenes? With him?
I turned to grab my bag, and of course—of course—he was suddenly right there.
"Hey," Asher said, his voice smooth.
I nearly dropped my bag. "Jeez—warn a girl next time."
He chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together."
"Don't remind me," I muttered, though it came out weaker than I meant it to.
He leaned slightly closer. "You're not nervous... are you?"
"Of course not," I said quickly. Too quickly.
That smirk deepened. "Good. Because I think we'll make a believable couple."
I stared at him, heart pounding. "It's just acting," I said, more to myself than to him.
"Sure," he replied, his gaze lingering. "But sometimes... the lines blur."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. Because the worst part was—I had no idea if I wanted the lines to blur... or not.