Chapter 2 2- Asher Callahan

Asher Callahan was a brand. 

The moment I stepped inside Greenfield High, the first thing I saw was a huge hoarding of Asher at the entrance of the campus. Holding the trophy high, his lips were curled in an arrogant smile that barely reached his eyes. 

Seeing his poster right at the entrance was the last thing I had expected. Being popular in school was one thing, but having posters and hoardings in one's name so casually was another.  

I must have stopped walking the moment my eyes fell on his poster because someone bumped into me from behind, making me stumble forward. A curse escaped my mouth from the impact, and I turned around to see the source of the same.

It was Ethan, Asher's best friend. 

"Callahan's stepsister!" He greeted me with a grin, holding his bag tightly over his left shoulder. 

"Scarlett Monroe. That's my name." I corrected him, not liking being associated with my supposedly new stepbrother.

Ethan raised his hands in mock surrender. His green eyes glinted with amusement as he corrected himself immediately.

"Apologies, Miss Monroe. I assume today's your first day at our school. And knowing what kind of a maze our school is, let me be your guide today." He said, making me raise my eyebrows at him.

"Thank you for the offer, but I can manage myself. The lady at the reception provided me with the map of your school." I said, not wanting to trouble him or anyone else for that matter. 

"Oh, none of these formalities, please, Scarlett. You're my best friend's sister. It's my responsibility to make sure you're fine in his absence." Ethan said, taking the map and class schedule from my hand, already walking in front of me, leading the way. 

"Step-sister." I corrected him, and he waved his hands, brushing it off. "And I am not your responsibility. Or his." 

"Oh, it's the same thing, Monroe." I stared at him, dumbfounded. Snorting to myself, I followed him as he kept introducing different people and departments to me. 

"And here's your classroom. If you need anything, here's my number. Just drop me a message, and I'll be right there." He said, forwarding a small paper with his number scribbled on it. 

Unlike Asher, who was like a storm— dangerous, unpredictable, and destructive, his best friend was like a warm spring. Ethan was easy to talk to, effortlessly warm and a kind of person who made even strangers feel at home. 

Handing me back my belongings, he smiled charmingly at me and started going back to his building when I stopped him. 

"Ethan," 

"Yes?" He replied, surprised that I stopped him. 

"Thank you." I said, and he raised his eyebrows at me, making me feel my neck burning in embarrassment. "For showing me around." 

He smiled again; this time the smile reached his eyes as he shook his head. 

"Oh, you don't have to thank me for things like these, Monroe. I'll see you again. Bye." And with that, he walked away, leaving me to stare at the empty space that was once filled. 

...

"I can never understand rich people's fashion. I understand the need to look unique and good, but who in their sane mind sticks sand on their body and claims it's worth a hundred million dollars? And don't get me started on that ice handbag! Rich people have ruined fashion." Nora, my desk-mate, said as we were having lunch in the cafeteria. 

She was kind enough to let me sit with her and introduce her friends to me. Unlike the reputation of Greenfield High, Nora was pleasantly sweet and effortlessly funny. And from what I have deduced so far, she wants to be a fashion designer. Absurd fashion always managed to tick her off.

"Ice bag? How can someone carry an ice bag? Does this even make sense?" Rhea asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. Nora nodded her head almost immediately.  

"It doesn't! And that shit cost twenty-two-thousand dollars. I can buy a property with that money and laugh with rich aunties of the societies." Nora spoke, making me snort.

Okay, that was a good one. 

My new friends were surprisingly funny and easy to talk to. 

"It's not MET GALA if celebrities don't dress up to infuriate you, Nora. Don't tell me you were awake the entire night to study everyone's outfit." I said, shaking my head in disbelief. Rhea laughed with me.

"That's so Nora of you, Nora. Sacrificing sleep to find material for gossip." Rhea added, and Nora smirked at her.

"I was finding inspiration for my cousin's wedding this year. How is it my fault if I find gossip instead of inspiration there? And please, you responded almost immediately when I shared the meme with you." Nora said, and Rhea looked away, embarrassed, making me laugh.

"So, did you find any inspiration?" I asked her, and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I decided to design my own dress—" she started but trailed off when she saw someone behind me. 

The expression on her face changed. The excitement was drowned in the sea of astonishment that crossed her face. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it, like a fish gaping. It looked like she saw a ghost. But when I shifted my gaze from Nora to Rhea, my other friend looked equally shocked and flabbergasted. 

"What happened? You both look like you've seen a ghost." I said, turning my face around to see the source of their shock, and my eyes widened in surprise. 

Behind me stood Asher Callahan, dressed in sweats and a hockey jersey with our school's name printed on it. Sweat beads were running down his forehead, indicating he had just finished his hockey practice. With a height of almost six feet, he easily towered over my sitting frame, making me freeze. 

What the hell was he doing in the sophomore canteen when he was a Senior? 

His dark eyes bored into mine as he nodded his head at me. 

"Come with me."