Don’t you just hate coincidences?

I do.

I was tapping away at my bracelet, trying to get Mr. Silver to just say something. It’d been two weeks since he decided to leave me in the dark about those other people and I was desperately trying to get a hold of him to try and find out just what exactly was going on with my situation.

Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Bellamy was droning on about homework and something to do with diseases and volunteers. I didn’t know, I could barely pay attention to his slow drawled out voice and large glasses that covered up half his face.

“So, any volunteers. Just know you must be…”

At that moment, Mr. Silver came to life startling me which caused my hand to shoot up.

“Ms. Anji, it seems we have…”

“No,” I spoke up. “I was just stretching. Sorry…”

“Maybe you should do it,” Mr. Silver said.

I resisted the urge to role my eyes. Oh, now you talk. “Actually, yes I am volunteering.” I chuckled nervously. “What exactly am I volunteering for?” I said, the forced smile on my face tearing my face apart.

Mr. Bellamy looked confused and let me tell you, if there was an Olympic gold medal for having a  confused expression, this man had it. His thick eyebrows escaped the confines of his large glasses, almost grasping his receding hairline.

“Why would you volunteer for something you don’t know anything about?” Mr. Bellamy asked.

“You know me,” I said, forcing my grin wider. “I like surprises.”

“No, I don’t know you Ms. Anji.”

There was a wave of quiet chuckles from my classmates. I could feel my face heating up.

Mr. Bellamy shrugged. “Very well then, I’ll give you the binder and…”

“Sorry, what exactly am I doing?”

My classmates started grinning. Mr. Bellamy’s eyebrows did that stupid thing again.

“How can you volunteer for something you don’t know anything about?” Mr. Bellamy asked.

Well, I thought. I can’t just say a magical voice in a friendship bracelet told me to do so.

“I just need a refresher you know?” I said, my face muscles stretching so much at this point that I could probably lift weights with them.

“I don’t know, Ms. Anji,” Mr. Bellamy said. “I do not know. I don’t understand how anyone could be so stupid as to not know what exactly it is they’re throwing themselves into…”

And because I was so used to shouting verbally abusive things at a talking bracelet on my hand I shot back, saying “I don’t know how anyone can be so stupid as to get that bald at 32.”

When I realised what I had said my body burned up. I could feel the embarrassment and regret start crawling up into my face and twisting it. I looked down at my desk, ashamed, trying my best not to show the class how red my face felt.

I looked up and saw Mr. Bellamy’s face turn from pale with shock to bright red with anger like a traffic signal. The entire class was dead silent, staring at me with a mixture of shock, amusement and even admiration. I even elicited a reaction out of Lloyd who took out his sunglasses.

“Hot damn, April,” Lloyd said.

“Ms. Anji,” Mr. Bellamy said, pausing between each syllable of my name like he was uttering a curse. “In my office, now!”

“Yes,” I squeaked out, resisting the urge to cry.

…

After getting a rundown of my task which basically involved giving homework to a girl with a highly contagious disease.

“What disease?” I asked.

“Ms. Anji,” Mr. Bellamy let irritation flare across his face for a brief second before calming himself down. He sighed. “We don’t know the nature of the disease, we’ve just been informed that it’s serious and that Ms. Butters is sick.”

“Who’s Ms. Butters?”

He did the weird eyebrow thing again. “Skye Butters. The girl you’re supposed to be giving the homework to.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe you should pay attention,” Mr. Bellamy said. “Ever think about that.”

Mr. Bellamy shuffled through some files at the bottom of his desk before pulling out a fat stack of papers that caused a loud thud when he placed it on the table.

“You’ll be taking that up to her,” Mr. Bellamy said. “Make sure you have a face mask on and some gloves.”

“Why aren’t you doing it?” I asked. “Or any of the teachers.”

“Well,” Mr. Bellamy droned. “You volunteered.”

I sighed, defeated.

Stupid freaking friendship bracelet.