There was no denying it now, Sylla mused, she was stuck. Literally. As in she was stuck in a tree. No, she hadn't climbed the tree and now didn't know how to get down. Her boots were caught in the tree and she was hanging upside down. To make things worse, there was no one around to help her as Sylla liked to read in private.

Her thoughts turned to the mourning of her book which was resting on a branch a little below her. If she could just stretch a little bit more... Snap! The branch broke and Sylla plummeted towards the ground.

Her back ached, her head ached and her legs, arms and hands were covered in scratches from the countless branches she had brushed past in her not-so-graceful trip down. She was in absolutely no mood to get up and walk back home. Besides, Sylla thought irritably , if she went home she'd have to explain what happened to her clothes.

As she was thinking these unpleasant thoughts, Sylla spotted a ginger boy heading her groaned and buried her head in her knees, hoping he'd take that as a sign to go away and leave her alone. He didn't.

"Are you alright?" His words were concerned, but there was a tone of faint amusement in his voice.

She nodded, wishing he would go away. Go away and leave her with her book.

"Can I help?" Still amused.

That last little burst of amusement was too much for Sylla to take and she snapped her head up, ready to tell him, in no unclear terms exactly what he could do. As she looked up, though, she caught sight of her book still caught in the tree. Right beside it were her boots.

It pained her to ask him for help, but there was no way she could pull off climbing that tree again.

"Could you go get those for me?" The words came out snappish, and she cringed inwardly at her tone.

The boy raised an eyebrow. Damn him, she had always wanted to learn how to do that. It made everything people said come out twice as sarcastic.

Clearing her throat, she turned away and added a quiet "Please."

There was a silence and for a moment she was afraid he was going to make her repeat it. Frankly she wasn't sure her pride could handle that.

"Blimey, you're American!"

"Canadian." She corrected.

"Oh. Well, anyway, since you asked so nicely."

She lifted her head and saw him already climbing. Thank God.

He got down with her book, and boots.

"Here you go." God, he sounded happy.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

There was another quiet moment, almost silent except for the sounds of her pulling her boots on. Then..

"So, what brings you to Britain?"

"I'm going to a new school here."

"You moved for that? Couldn't you just have gone to a school in Canada?"

"Well, it's a special school, see, and they don't have one in Canada. Besides, since it's a boarding school, my parents don't have to move."

"Oh."

Sylla stood up then. "Thanks and it's been fun talking to you and all, but I gotta go."

He nodded. "See ya, Witch Girl."

If anyone else had heard it would have sounded insulting, but Sylla froze. Then after a second, she cracked a half-hearted smile and replied.

"Later, Ginger"