Rewritten by Fate

Chapter Four

LIA POV

After that unexpected moment in the Sunken Garden with Evan, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His smile, his warmth, the way he so casually invaded my personal space and left me speechless. I tried to shake off the feeling, but no matter how hard I focused on my work or tried to distract myself with my friends, he kept popping into my head.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I didn’t even *like* him. I mean, he was obnoxious, full of himself, and always the center of attention. But lately, there was something different about him. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, or how he seemed genuinely interested in who I was beyond the surface. Whatever it was, it was starting to mess with my head.

It didn’t help that I kept running into him.

Just like today.

I was sitting under the same tree in the Sunken Garden, my notebook resting on my lap. The sun was lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the campus. I hadn’t written much since last time. My thoughts had been all over the place, and the story that had once flowed easily now felt tangled in confusion.

And then, as if on cue, I saw him again. Evan.

This time, he wasn’t taking pictures. He was walking toward me, hands in his pockets, that same easy smile on his face. My heart did the thing again, the annoying little flip it seemed to reserve just for him.

I tried to pretend I didn’t see him, quickly looking down at my notebook, but it was too late. His shadow fell over me as he stopped right in front of me.

“Hey, writer girl,” he said, his voice light but teasing. “Back at your usual spot, huh?”

I didn’t look up. “Yeah. Not like I have anywhere else to be.”

He chuckled, sitting down beside me without asking. “You could’ve fooled me. You’re always here.”

I shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s quiet here. Helps me think.”

“Think about what?” he asked, leaning a little closer. “Your story? Or something else?”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, and I quickly turned the page in my notebook, pretending to jot something down. “My story, obviously. Why else would I be here?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and I could tell he was grinning. “What’s it about?”

“It’s… about a girl,” I began hesitantly, my fingers tightening around my pen. “A girl who’s trying to figure herself out, and she meets this guy who just… complicates things.”

Evan’s eyebrow quirked up, clearly amused. “Sounds familiar.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, glaring at him from the corner of my eye.

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, come on. You can admit it if I’m inspiring you. I won’t tell.”

I groaned, leaning back against the tree. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still talk to me,” he teased, nudging my shoulder playfully. “So, what happens next in this story of yours? Does the guy complicate things in a good way, or does he just make everything worse?”

I paused, staring at my notebook. That was the real question, wasn’t it? Did the guy help the girl find her way, or did he just pull her further off course? I didn’t have an answer yet, not in my story or in real life.

“I don’t know,” I said softly, more to myself than to him.

Evan didn’t say anything for a moment. When I glanced at him, he was watching me, his expression serious for once. It was disarming, seeing him like that—quiet, thoughtful. Almost like he cared about what I had to say.

“You don’t always have to know right away,” he said quietly. “Sometimes, it’s okay to figure it out as you go.”

His words caught me off guard. I expected more teasing, more playful banter. But this? This was different. He sounded… real.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to read him. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed. He broke into another grin, his usual cocky demeanor returning.

“But hey, if you ever need a model for your story’s hero, you know where to find me,” he added with a wink.

I rolled my eyes, the tension breaking. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

He laughed, standing up and stretching. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your deep thoughts. But don’t take too long. Life’s too short to be stuck in your head all the time.”

As he walked away, I found myself watching him again, the same way I had before. The way he moved, so carefree and confident. There was something about him that made it hard to look away.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts. He was right about one thing—I couldn’t stay stuck here, trying to make sense of everything. Sometimes, you just had to live in the moment and let things unfold on their own.

But as much as I tried to push him out of my mind, the thought remained: Evan was complicating things. And no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, there was no denying the pull I felt toward him.

As the sun began to set, I opened my notebook again. This time, the words came easier. I wrote about a girl and a boy who couldn’t stop crossing paths, about how their worlds seemed to keep colliding in ways neither of them expected.

And somewhere in those words, I realized I was writing my own story. Or at least, the beginning of one.

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