Rea should have ignored him.
She should have let that moment on the bleachers fade into nothing—just a fluke, a conversation that meant nothing. But the problem was, it did mean something.
Because the next time she saw Aster Westwood, she didn't just pretend he wasn't there.
She looked at him.
And worse—he looked back.
Elena had warned her about him.
"Aster's bad news," she had said one afternoon, twirling a pencil between her fingers as they sat in the library.
Milo, who had been sketching quietly beside them, made a noise of agreement. "He gets into trouble. A lot."
Rea frowned. "Like what?"
Elena leaned in, lowering her voice. "Fights. Skipping class. Rumors say he got suspended last year for something serious, but no one knows what."
Rea wasn't sure why that bothered her. Maybe it was because Aster didn't feel dangerous. He felt... complicated.
And complicated was something she understood.
"Why do you sit alone?"
Rea didn't mean to ask, but the words slipped out one afternoon in English class. They had been assigned another partner project, and by some unspoken rule, Aster had taken the seat next to her again.
He glanced up, surprised. "What?"
"You're always alone," she said. "Even though people seem to know you."
Aster studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged. "Easier that way."
Rea thought about that. About how she had spent so much of her life trying to be invisible, but somehow, Aster had chosen it.
She wasn't sure if that made them different or the same.
"Come with us."
Elena's voice broke through Rea's thoughts as they stood by their lockers after school.
Rea blinked. "What?"
"Friday night. There's a party." Elena grinned. "And you're coming."
Rea's stomach twisted. "I don't really—"
"Nope. No excuses." Elena shut her locker with a satisfied smirk. "You've been here for weeks, and you haven't done anything. It's time."
Milo looked up from his sketchbook. "She's gonna hate it."
"Maybe," Elena said. "But she won't know unless she tries."
Rea hesitated. She knew parties meant crowds. Noise. Everything she hated.
But the way Elena looked at her—like she believed in her—made it hard to say no.
So against her better judgment, she agreed.
And that was her first mistake.
Because she never expected Aster Westwood to be there.
Rea regretted saying yes the second they arrived.
Music pounded through the house, shaking the floor beneath her feet. People filled every inch of space, their voices blending into an overwhelming roar.
She stood frozen in the doorway, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves.
Elena nudged her. "Relax. Just stick with us."
Easier said than done.
Milo disappeared almost immediately, probably looking for a quiet corner. Elena, on the other hand, thrived in the chaos, already pulling Rea toward the kitchen.
She had barely taken three steps when a voice stopped her cold.
"Well, well. Didn't think I'd see you here."
Her heart stuttered.
She turned—
And there he was.
Aster leaned against the counter, a red plastic cup in his hand, watching her with that same unreadable expression.
Rea opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Aster smirked. "Cat got your tongue, new girl?"
Heat rushed to her face. "I—no, I just—"
"You don't seem like the party type."
She frowned. "I'm not."
"Then why are you here?"
She hesitated. Because I wanted to prove I could. Because I wanted to be normal. Because I wanted to stop being afraid.
But instead, she said, "Elena made me come."
Aster chuckled. "Figures."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The noise of the party faded into the background.
Then Aster tilted his head. "Come on."
Rea blinked. "What?"
He nodded toward the back door. "You hate crowds, right? Let's get out of here."
It was a bad idea.
But before she could stop herself, she followed him.
The backyard was quiet, the air cool against her skin.
Rea inhaled deeply, letting the silence wash over her.
Aster sat on the edge of the porch steps, looking up at the sky.
Rea hesitated, then sat next to him. "You don't like parties either?"
He shrugged. "Not really. But they're... expected."
She frowned. "Expected?"
Aster ran a hand through his hair. "People think I should be a certain way. So sometimes it's easier to just let them."
Something about that made Rea's chest tighten.
"I know what that's like," she said softly.
Aster turned to look at her, something unreadable in his expression. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think you do."
Silence stretched between them.
And for the first time in a long time, Rea didn't feel so alone.
She didn't know it then.
But that night—sitting on the porch with Aster Westwood—was the beginning of something she couldn't undo.