I didn’t see anyone from my hometown during my first week there. Nor during my second. And all things considered, those couple of weeks went by without too much trouble or bad luck. Sure, there had been a couple of incidents here and there, such as missing lunch hours in the cafeteria and getting quizzed by a teacher about a subject I knew nothing about. But none of it was too dramatic. My curse was taking it slow, this time.

On my third week there, though, things changed.

I got breakfast from the cafeteria and sat down at one of the tables to eat. Immediately, the people near me got up and moved to another table, leaving a huge empty space beside me. For as long as breakfast ran, nobody dared sit by my side. There you go, I thought to myself. The cat’s out of the bag.

There were some good things about having such a reputation, such as never having to wait in line for anything (everyone moved out of the way when I walked by), but undeniably, the bad things outweighed the good. I took a deep breath as I walked into math class that morning, getting myself ready for another school year without any friends. I felt the other students glare at me from behind: nothing I wasn’t used to.

Halfway during class, the math teacher found himself interrupted when three students from other classed walked in and asked the teacher for permission to speak. “By all means,” he told them, walking away to the window on the left. The students stood in front of the blackboard to talk to us.

I wasn’t really paying attention at first, but then I took a quick glance at the students and was surprised to notice that one of them was actually Claire. She wasn’t looking at me, exactly. She had her hair up in a ponytail again, and looked remarkably nervous. Did something happen, or is this just how she is when speaking to an audience?

“Hello,” said the tall boy on her right side. “Most of you know us already. For those who don’t, we’re Carlo, Diego and Claire, and we’re here representing your student council.” Fancy! So Claire was in the student council, huh? “We’re here to inform you that the application period for elective subjects for the current school year starts tomorrow. For those interested, you can apply at the student council room between 5 and 7 p.m., every day. As usual, should the number of applicants exceed the amount of seats available, applicants will be selected at random by the end of the following week. Unless it’s pottery, because nobody ever applies to pottery.” There was laughter once he said that. “So…” he continued, once the commotion had died. “The list of available subjects will be affixed to the bulletin board on every corridor. Please check it out after class, we’re sure most of you will find something that fits your interests. Any questions?”

A lot of people raised their hands.

“Yes?” said Carlo, pointing at a girl on the second row.

“Will Mr. Thomas be teaching witchcraft this year, too?”

There was generalized commotion. I noticed how a number of girls went “awww” or giggled, and most of the others either stifled a laugh or grinned. I didn’t know why everyone was so interested in that particular professor – well, I was new to that school anyway –, so I just let my eyes wander around the room, until they met Claire’s.

She smiled at me. I felt my cheeks flush and my heartbeat falter, and rapidly looked away to the window where our math teacher was standing.

“Yes,” said Carlo, to an even greater commotion. “BUT… only for the advanced class, so if you haven’t completed the basic and intermediate courses, you can’t apply for that one. Sorry girls,” he added, seeing how many of them were disappointed at that information.

“Will that be all?” the math teacher asked.

“Yes sir,” said Carlo, “sorry for interrupting your class. Good luck teaching algebra to those blockheads on the back.”

“Who’re you calling a blockhead, Carlo?!” I heard a boy protest, from one of the seats farthest from the blackboard. He had been making paper boats out of his notebook pages, and his desk was full of them. Once he realized it, he attempted to shove it all inside his backpack. The people around him started to tease him for that.

“All right,” said the teacher, “that’s enough, all of you. Dmitri, please get rid of those paper boats. Everyone else, open your books on page 398. Logarithms.”

I heard a couple of people whimper in dismay, but that managed to get the classroom under control. The student council turned to leave the room. I watched Claire go, and was surprised once she stopped by the door, and looked straight back at me. Her eyes looked saddened. I averted my eyes. That’s right. She’s probably heard about my curse as well. But don’t pity me, will ya? I’d rather be avoided than pitied. Particularly by you.

Why particularly by Claire, you might ask? Well, I can’t really say. Probably because I wanted her as a friend, and friends don’t look condescendingly at one another. Or… well, better not say. One way or the other, one thing I did not want at all was for Claire to pity me. Anything else was better than that.

The teacher resumed his lesson.

After class, I, and a number of other students, went to check the bulletin board outside. We quickly found the photocopy affixed with thumbtacks on the board. It had a list of subjects in it.

Electives — Middle and High School Level:

· Arts and Crafts: Fundamentals, All-Level Class.

· Ballroom Dancing: Basic Class.

· Childcare: Basic and Intermediate Classes.

· Foreign Languages (Eastern): Basic and Intermediate Classes.

· Foreign Languages (Western): Basic Class.

· Horseback Riding: Intermediate and Advanced Classes.

· Mechanics: Basic Class.

· Nursing: Basic, Intermediate and Advanced Classes.

· Photography: Basic and Advanced Classes.

· Pottery: Basic Class.

· Witchcraft: Basic, Intermediate and Advanced Classes.

**Additional electives and/or classes may be added later on during the school term. **

There was a witchcraft class, of course. My fellow classmates had been asking the student council about that, just now. And everyone seemed to be commenting about that one.

Well, of course I wanted to get that. But supposing a lot of people applied to it… Hadn’t the student council guy said we’d be selected at random? Hah! The irony of it. Leave it for the girl with the bad-luck curse to try and win a draw. Bother. I knew the outcome already. Might as well give up on it already, to save myself another disappointment.

I walked away from the crowd and made my way to the refectory, for lunch.

Once again, the people sitting down on the table got up and left as soon as I sat beside them, leaving most of the seats near me completely empty. Honestly, what did they think could happen to them during lunch? Did they think my curse would immediately explode their food onto their faces? NOPE, don’t think about it, Anamaria! Don’t go giving your curse any weird ideas, now.

I shook the thought off my head, and turned back to my food. Halfway through eating it, I saw a girl come by and sit down opposite me on the table.

“Hello,” she said. “You’re Anamaria, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “You heard about me?” I asked her, wondering if she too had heard the rumors about my curse.

“Yeah,” she said. “From the roll call. In math class.”

“Oh!” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Yeah, that’s right. I was fairly sure she was the girl who sat near the classroom door, surrounded by a clique of other girls. “I remember you,” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “You’re, err…”

“Samantha,” she told me. “Sammy for short.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Say, why does everyone seem to avoid you around here? Are you, like, the director’s daughter or something?”

I shook my head. “I have a curse. It’s a… kind of a bad luck curse. I’ve had it since I was a baby.”

“And they’re avoiding you because of that?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah. It tends to affect the people who stick around for too long beside me. And so… you know… I completely understand if you want to get up and go sit somewhere else. I’m used to it.”

I realized I was avoiding looking into her eyes, probably too scared to look at her reaction. You know, it doesn’t matter how many times I get rejected, rejection still hurts. I ate in silence, awaiting for the moment she would go away like the rest of them. Since she didn’t seem to be moving, or eating her food either, I turned my eyes up and looked at her face. And I realized she wasn’t scared, like most people usually were. She just looked… really, really sad.

“Um… sorry?” I said.

“Don’t be,” she told me. “They’re the ones who should be sorry,” she pointed at the people on the other tables, who were only too aware of my presence in the room. “You can’t really isolate a person just because they have a curse. It’s not fair on them.”

“Life’s never been fair to me,” I told her, my voice barely more than a whisper. I saw Samantha purse her lips. I was about to cry. I had half a mind to just get up and run away, but something kept me still in my chair. Maybe I really, really wanted to have a friend. I was so lonely.

At some point, I realized I couldn’t force myself to eat anymore, so I just laid my cutlery on top of my half-empty plate and looked at it sadly.

“You done?” Samantha asked me. Her tone of voice sounded mildly angry. She had barely touched her own food, herself. I nodded. “Then,” she said, “let’s get out of here. I can’t stand these idiots anymore.”

I was surprised by her comment, she was probably referring to the rest of the people in the room, the ones who kept glaring at me. We got up from the table together, and carried our trays back to the kitchen, to hand them over to the cleaning staff.

As soon as that was done, I felt Samantha grab my wrist. “Come with me,” she said. “We’re going to do something about it.”