~ Asher's POV ~
Asher sat back in his seat as the plane was readying to take off. He was reading something in a magazine, Stanford's literary magazine to be exact. Meanwhile, Zoie sat next to him and she was leaning her head aimlessly against the window. She was watching a movie with the headphones on. Asher stole a glance over at her before turning his eyes to the magazine again. He was reading the article that Zoie wrote, titled: Racing Cars and Life Lessons.
"...When I first set foot inside the racetrack to watch a car race earlier this year, I didn't think much of it. It was just a race with a bunch of drivers speeding as fast as possible. I never felt the need to learn about it because in the real world, such a thing is a cause for traffic tickets, getting pulled over, or worse, accidents. I've always viewed this sport as dangerous and the risks seem to outweigh the gains. But it was only after I set foot inside a car and feel the race from deep inside that I understand why this is an important sport. In a lot of ways, racing can teach you a lot about life. What's behind you doesn't matter. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you wreck a car. To finish first, you must first finish. And to achieve anything in this competition, you must be prepared to dabble in the boundary of disaster..."
Asher flipped the page back and occasionally, he'd glance over at her. Zoie was acting like she wasn't paying attention to him, but she was. In the corner of her eye, she was looking at him as he was reading her essay.
"...After my trip to the racecar track, I followed a racecar driver around for a week to learn about his passion for the art. Due to confidentiality issues, let's call him Drift. Drift has told me that just like people, not all cars are built equally. But it's not about where you come from, it's about where you're going that matters..."
Asher's lips curved into a smile. He remembered telling her that. Car racing is a sport that only looks to the future and not at the past, which is why he liked it so much.
"...I asked Drift once if he was ever scared of dying. Not to sound bleak or anything, but it's not uncommon that car races result in freak accidents - and even deaths. When I asked him this, Drift only laughed at me. He says he's never afraid to hit the gas pedal once he's found something that his heart beats for. Even though it may start off scary, he just needs to keep hitting the gas pedal. Then he'll go faster, and faster, and faster until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death. And besides, why worry about death? It'll come sooner or later, he says. People remember the crashes, but drivers like Drift only remember the near misses. That split second moment where everything feels infinite. It's the art of turning a second into a lifetime, he says..."
Asher flipped the page again eagerly. He was thoroughly enjoying this read, and not because he was the main subject, but because Zoie's words seemed to flow so effortlessly from the pages. He was so engrossed with the article, he didn't even realize the plane had taken off. They were now flying at 36,000 feet above the ground, en route to California.
"...Like many other people, I'm a firm believer that our time in this life is finite. We're only allowed a certain number of years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. Ever since we are born into this world, we have a ticking clock that keeps reminding us how limited we are. But after a few short days with Drift, I've realized that though we all carry an expiration date with our bodies, there are things on this Earth that extend beyond the confines of time. What are these things, you may ask? Courage. Drift is the most courageous person I've ever met and not only because he's not afraid of crashing or dying. But it's because he's always pushing to break the limitations that the world puts on him. Many of us grow cautious as we get older. We become skeptical and tired. We don't push boundaries anymore and we settle for what's convenient. But that is where the true danger lies, Drift would say. In his eyes, speed has never killed anyone, but becoming stationary... that's what gets you..."
Asher found his heart thumping with excitement as he flipped the last page. He also sat up straighter and brought the paper closer to his eyes. Each and every word felt so special. They struck a chord inside him.
"...So, ladies and gentlemen, let me leave you with this, this is the sign that you've been looking for. Don't be afraid of the crashes and burns, but be afraid of never experiencing the seconds of your life that might last forever. Once you've found what it is that your heart beats for, keep hitting the gas pedal and you never know where you might end up. Maybe it'll lead you to become a writer for a Stanford magazine, or maybe, like Drift, it'll lead you somewhere completely new. Somewhere where the impossible becomes possible. Somewhere where you have no limitations. Somewhere where you become infinite,"
Asher took a moment before he finally closed the magazine shut. It took a second for him to gather himself.
"You finished reading it?" Zoie spoke up finally. She noticed he had closed the magazine.
Asher couldn't respond in words, so he just nodded his head.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked.
"Did you... really write this?" he asked back.
"Yeah, I submitted it a few months ago. I didn't even think they were gonna pick my essay, but I guess they liked it. But, what do you think?" she asked again, eager to know what he thought.
"Zoie... This is... the most epic thing I've ever read in my life!" Asher said breathlessly, his eyes were shining bright. "First thing I'm gonna do when we get back is find a frame and hang this on our wall!"
"Oh, please, stop!" she laughed.
"I'm serious! It's that good!" he flipped the magazine open again and found the article. He looked at the page meaningfully, like he really treasured every word. "And um... I never knew you think these things about me..."
Asher's finger found the word 'courage' and he swallowed hard.
"Is that... okay?" Zoie asked cautiously.
"It's more than okay, it's really great and I feel honored, but..."
"But what?"
"I feel like what you said about me is too... nice,"
"What are you talking about?" she narrowed her eyes.
"You paint this picture like I'm some great, inspiring figure, but we both know I'm not that guy. Not yet, at least," Asher paused for a beat and threw his gaze to the floor. "I know I'm just a nobody right now. I don't have much to show for myself, but maybe someday... I'm gonna be someone who deserves to be with a girl like you,"
Asher gripped the magazine tighter in his hands. He didn't know why he was feeling so emotional right now. Something about her writing brought this side out.
"Ash..." Zoie said softly as her hand reached for his face. She tilted his cheek up so he was facing her. "You're already a somebody. To me, at least. You have the kindest, biggest heart and I'm so, so lucky to have you in my life..."
Asher was caught off guard. These were, perhaps, the nicest anyone's ever said to him.
"I know I was being reckless and stupid when we first met in that bar, but if I were to make mistakes in this life, I'm glad that it was with you," she said again.
Asher's hand reached for her face instinctively. His heart was beating so fast. He caressed her cheek gently and she leaned her face into the palm of his hand.
"I love you, Zoie Rose Van Zandt," he breathed.
"I love you too..." she replied. "Asher Luciano,"
Asher's lips curved into a smile. His name sounded so beautiful through her voice.
"Dang," he chuckled and shook his head. "My girl's a badass writer,"
"Oh, stop," Zoie blushed and rolled her eyes.
"Seriously. You're a damn good writer, Zoie. I'm so impressed!" he turned his body to face her and leaned closer. "How'd you do it?"
"I dunno," she shrugged. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I just find that writing is a great way to organize my thoughts. When you slow down and really think about your thoughts, the words will come out naturally... you know what I mean?"
"No, I don't," he laughed.
"It's really not that hard," she said. "Maybe you should try it sometime?"
"Me?" he scoffed. "Writing stuff?"
"Yeah,"
"What would I even write about?"
"Anything you want. Anything you love. Anything you wanna talk about,"
Asher paused for a beat.
"Huh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just gonna stick with driving," he shrugged. "Know your lanes, right?"
Zoie smiled a cheeky grin. That made Asher smile too. Asher wrapped his arm around her and stroked her hair gently. Zoie rested her head deeper into his chest as they sat in comfortable silence. Asher let out a sigh and closed his eyes. In the midst of that quietness, he could still hear her sweet voice saying, "I love you... Asher Luciano,"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When Asher opened his eyes next, they were about halfway through the trip. It was a six-hour plane ride in total, and about two hours had passed. Asher looked to his side and saw Zoie still fast asleep. She was leaning her head against the windowpane. Her headphones were blasting some chill pop music.
Asher noted the curves of her face, the color of her cheeks, and the way her chest rises and falls with every breath. Not to sound like a weird stalker or anything, but he loved watching her. He could watch her for another three hours like this. Asher felt this overwhelming feeling in his chest, like some kind of warmth that was just oozing out. Somehow, he felt the need to get it out. And so, he took out a pen from his back pocket and grabbed the airplane napkin that was sitting in front of him. Before he knew it, he found himself writing her a letter.
Dear Zoie...
I think it's so amazing how your mind works. How you string those words together and you created something that blew my mind. I never knew that words can have so much meaning. Your words mean so much to me and that's why my words have made it to this piece of paper.
I love you, Zoie. More than you can ever imagine.
You make me smile. You make me wanna dance. You make me wanna do stupid stuff like climb the second floor window of your dad's office. You make me hard. You make me soft. You make me feel everything and it's crazy to me because it's almost like I never knew what being alive meant until I met you.
You make me go crazy. You make me strong and you make me brave. But most of all, you make me wanna be a better man. Your man.
So, watch me. As I'm sitting here and watching you. Watch me and someday I'll make you feel all these things that you made me feel.
Yours always,
A. L.
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- - - - - - To Be Continued - - - - - -