You’re Weird. I like It.

He walked into class ten minutes late, the easy swagger of a football captain rolling off his shoulders.
High-fives met him at the door, and the teacher shot him a dry look.

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Calloway."

Tasya missed her old school already. The casual disruption encouraged by both students and teacher, made no sense to her, especially not in Advanced Geography.

Asher Calloway.
His full name was called out just as he dropped into the empty seat next to her. It seemed classes here filled up from the back row first. The heavy thud of his backpack on the bench made Tasya jump. She gave him a polite, fake smile, then turned back to her textbook the pages filled with diagrams of river systems across Europe.

"Hey, new girl, what page are we on?" he asked — far too loudly for a classroom.

"We started on Chapter Four," her cheeks warming as she responded, before realising he'd already leaned over to read from her shoulder.

"You’re on Chapter Six though," he pointed out, smirking.

"I said we started on Chapter Four. I assumed you’d have your own book and would want to catch up," she said crisply, flipping the page without looking at him.

He scoffed. "I assumed you’d catch me up."

Tasya rolled her eyes. She hadn’t loved the idea of moving to a co-ed school, and this wasn’t helping. She wasn’t naive about boys acting helpless to get out of doing their own work. She'd grown up with brothers who'd perfected that move when chores were involved. It just bored her.

They sat in silence for the rest of the lesson. Asher made a few token attempts to slow her down by bumping the bench or dropping his pencil, but she ignored him. From the mess exploding out of his bag, it was clear he wasn’t looking for a notebook or pen. But he did own a copy of the text book they were reading. Breath mints. Typical.

When the bell finally rang, Tasya packed up her books and made a quick exit. Orchestra practice was on during lunch.

"New Girl! Hey, Tarz-ya?" he called out after her.

"It’s Tah-siyah," she corrected, without turning around.

"You can call me Ash!" he shouted across the courtyard.

Australians mispronouncing her name was nothing new. She didn’t bother to look back - the conductor was already tense about the principal forcing her into the orchestra after auditions had wrapped up last year.

Ash didn’t chase after her. Good. She didn’t have the time or patience to loan her notes to someone who couldn’t even bring a pen to class.

Tasya had spent the last ten years at a private girls’ boarding school. Coming here; trying to balance schoolwork, orchestra, her modelling work, and now family everywhere, life was a full-time project already. She wasn’t here to make friends. Not this term. Term Two, maybe, if there was breathing space. She’d figure it out later. There were only thirty-eight weeks standing between her and a plane back to London.
Oxford in the September intake, James already there, waiting. Architecture for him. Law for her like Papa.

That had been the goal for the past three years. No distractions. No drama. For the next two there was definitely no Ash Calloway. She’d completely failed at the no drama side of things in the last year of school; but she was back, focused.

She didn’t notice him again until the day of cheer tryouts.

It wasn’t her first choice or even her tenth. But with no dance program, and sport was still compulsory here, Tasya had few options. Cheer leading was the least painful way to avoid team sports. The tryouts were public the coach didn’t bother keeping spectators out of the multipurpose hall. The crowd of boys along the back wall made it obvious: this was meant to be a bit of a show. Tasya shoved the nerves down. Block it out. Survive the afternoon.

She still missed rowing, athletics, and swimming. The sports she'd trained for most of her life, but those didn’t exist here. At least the sprawling campus helped her keep her steps up without pacing around the farm in the dark like a ghost.

It hadn’t clicked until she walked onto the floor: Ash was here. Grinning at her from the back row. She wasn’t blind. He was attractive. And after meeting his twin brother, Reid in English, the one who actually turned up early to class and sat at the front she couldn't help noticing the difference. Reid was a thinker. Ash was all noise and confidence. Being two years younger than everyone in her year; dating wasn’t on the table.

At tryouts, though, Ash’s grin caught her breath before she could roll her eyes. The next forty minutes were a blur of black-and-gold pompoms, tight formations, and shouted counts.

When it ended, Tasya had somehow landed a spot on the team and a schedule even more packed than before. Five training sessions a week. Games every Friday night. At least she wouldn’t have to adjust her kilojoule as drastically as she’d thought.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed after dinner, Tasya cracked open her Apple Clamshell. She had every intention of reviewing her philosophy notes, maybe messaging James if he was online; it was just after 11 a.m. in London. With any luck; he’d be awake and they could laugh at how ridiculous these past three weeks and cheer leading would be.

Except it wasn’t James’ name that popped up on her MSN. It was Asher Calloway and an absurdly staged profile photo: shirtless, badly lit, flexing in a mirror like he thought it was casual. Tasya raised an eyebrow.

A new message blinked.

Asher: “Reid said if I asked you nicely, you might be cool enough to help me catch up on GEO Notes?”

Tasya stared at the screen. The arrogance practically oozed through the pixels.

Tasya: “Strange, I don’t recall giving ether of you my Messenger”

The reply was almost instant, like he’d bee waiting.

Asher: “Took it off the sign up sheet at cheer tryouts today. congrats btw 😉’”

She rolled her eyes. Of course he had.

Tasya: “You don't think that's a weird invasion of privacy?”

There was a beat before he answered, longer than before. Maybe she had actually rattled him. She smiled a little to herself.
Asher: “Privacy? You're int the Target catalogue on my kitchen table. Tarz”

She blinked. Damn it.

Tasya: “Are you seriously bringing up catalogue right now?”

Asher: I’m just saying you're basically famous new girl…” “And you’re dodging the Geo help question nerd!”

Tasya: “Are you seriously calling me a nerd while asking me for help??”

Asher: “Multitasking is a skill. so what do you reckon. Help me with Geo and I’ll keep the catalogue at home?”

Tasya: “Depends. Where are you even up to?”

Asher: “Chapter Four”

She groaned internally.

Tasya: “what have you been doing for the last two weeks?”

Another quick replay.

Asher: “Not my Geo homework. Obviously. Don't be nosy Tah-siyah.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or block him. Maybe both. She shook her head at the screen, amused despite herself.

Tasya: It’s Tasya, no hyphens, no extra vowels. Not that hard. I promise.

A pause.

Then.

Asher: “Tassssss-yaaaaaaa”

a pause.

Asher: “Better, spelling bee princess?”

She sighed, tapping her fingers against the keyboard. Why was she still answering him?

Tasya: “Marginally”

Asher: “Tough crowd. I might not survive Geo without you.”

Tasya: “Tragic, thoughts and prayers”

Another beat of silence. She could almost picture him sitting there, grinning at the screen like an idiot.

Asher: “You’re weird. I like it”

Tasya bit down a smile she didn't want to encourage. instead she snapped her laptop shut. A sigh escaping as she took the books and laptop off her bed to the desk. She wasn’t studying tonight.