The Girl Who Changed The Balance

Chapter 1: The Girl Who Changed the Balance

Rain had a way of making Riverside College feel like a different place.

Not cleaner, not brighter—just more honest. The noise of students, the scrape of shoes across wet concrete, the distant shouting from the sports court all blended into something softer, almost blurred. Emis liked mornings like this. They made everything feel temporary, like problems could wash away if you walked long enough.

Shimy, on the other hand, hated being late.

“Bro, we’re going to miss attendance again,” Shimy said, adjusting the strap of his bag as they hurried through the main gate.

“You’ve been saying that since first year,” Emis replied calmly, stepping over a puddle without looking down.

“Yeah, because it keeps happening.”

“Then accept your destiny.”

“That’s not how destiny works.”

Emis finally glanced at him. “For you, it might.”

Shimy scoffed, but there was no real frustration behind it. That was how it had always been between them—arguments that never turned into anger, teasing that never crossed into distance. People on campus often described them as “attached,” as if they were one idea split into two bodies.

Neither of them corrected it.

Inside the lecture hall, the air smelled faintly of chalk and old wood. Students were scattered across rows, half‑awake, half‑present. Emis dropped into his usual seat near the middle while Shimy slid into the chair beside him, immediately pulling out a pen he would probably lose before the day ended.

“Did you study for the quiz?” Shimy whispered.

“There’s a quiz?”

Shimy stared at him.

Emis shrugged. “Relax. I’ll figure it out.”

“You always say that like life is a game you haven’t read the rules for.”

“It kind of is.”

Before Shimy could respond, the classroom door opened.

The lecturer walked in first, followed by someone unfamiliar.

She paused at the front of the room for a moment, scanning the space like she wasn’t entirely sure where she was supposed to belong yet.

Then she smiled.

“Class, we have a new student joining us,” the lecturer announced. “Her name is Tasha.”

The name didn’t mean anything at first. Just another introduction, another face, another routine interruption to the day.

But something about her made the room quieter in a way no one commented on.

“Hi,” she said simply. “I’m Tasha.”

That was it. No dramatic speech. No attempt to impress anyone. Just two words spoken with a calmness that didn’t seem to belong in a room full of people pretending not to care.

“There are a few empty seats near the back,” the lecturer said.

But Tasha didn’t move immediately. Her eyes scanned the room again—slower this time, more uncertain.

And then she walked forward.

Not toward the back.

Toward the middle.

Toward Emis and Shimy.

Shimy leaned slightly toward Emis. “Don’t tell me she’s sitting here.”

“I didn’t invite her,” Emis muttered.

Tasha stopped beside their row. “Is this seat taken?”

There was a brief pause that felt longer than it should have been.

Shimy reacted first, sliding his bag off the chair. “No, it’s free.”

“Thanks,” she said, sitting down.

Emis noticed the small details before he understood why he was noticing them. The way she placed her books carefully. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as if organizing her thoughts. The way she exhaled softly, like she had been holding her breath since she entered the room.

Shimy leaned back slightly. “So… new student?”

Tasha glanced at him. “Yes.”

“That’s… obvious. I meant where from?”

“Different city.”

“Cool. I’m Shimy.”

She nodded politely. “Tasha.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “The lecturer said it.”

Emis let out a quiet breath through his nose. “He doesn’t say things for fun. He says them twice.”

Shimy shot him a look. “And this is Emis.”

Tasha turned slightly toward him now. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Emis replied.

That was the full extent of it. One word. One glance. Nothing important.

Or at least, that’s what it should have been.

But Emis found himself noticing her again when she wasn’t looking. Not in a dramatic way. Not like in stories people exaggerate later. Just small interruptions in his attention—brief, unwanted pauses in his focus whenever she adjusted her posture or looked down at her notes.

The lecture began.

Shimy was already distracted, tapping his pen against the desk. Emis was half‑listening, half‑trying not to think about the quiz he had definitely not studied for.

Tasha, however, was writing carefully. Not rushed. Not messy. Like she was trying to understand everything at once.

At one point, her pen stopped.

She frowned slightly at the page.

Shimy noticed first. “You’re lost already?”

Tasha looked at him. “No.”

“That looked like a ‘yes.’”

“I’m fine.”

Emis spoke without looking up. “She said she’s fine.”

Shimy grinned. “You defend strangers quickly.”

“I correct you quickly.”

Tasha’s lips curved slightly—not a full smile, just the beginning of one. “I understand most of it,” she said finally.

“That’s not what your face said,” Shimy replied.

“I don’t trust your interpretation of faces.”

“That’s fair.”

Emis finally looked at Shimy. “You agree with her?”

“I agree she doesn’t trust you.”

Tasha let out a small laugh before she could stop herself.

It was quiet. Almost accidental.

But Emis heard it clearly.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain yet, it stayed with him longer than it should have.

The lecture continued.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

And somewhere between the sound of it and the rhythm of pens on paper, something small and unnoticed shifted in the balance of three lives that had not yet realized they were about to change.

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