Lately, my deskmate has been giving me weird looks. Whether we’re in the cafeteria or during PE, she always keeps her distance. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore and asked her, “Did I do something to upset you?” She flinched, backing away a few steps, looking around nervously. “No, it’s not you!” But soon after, she asked to change classes. I was puzzled and decided to confront her about it, standing at the door of her new classroom. As I watched, my former deskmate, who had been chatting with others, suddenly started trembling and screamed, “It really has nothing to do with you! Please, just don’t come after me again, I beg you!” … I began to notice that my deskmate Quinn had been looking at me strangely. At first, she just slid her desk a bit further away. Then, she moved her chair over to the window. I tapped her shoulder, trying to remind her to pay attention in class. To my shock, she jumped and fell off her chair. Terrified, she scrambled up and dashed out of the classroom. I was completely baffled, wondering if I had unknowingly upset her. I planned to talk to Quinn the next day to clear things up. But when I arrived the next morning, the seat next to me was empty. The English teacher reluctantly informed me that Quinn had requested a class change on her own. Our class was the top-performing one, and Quinn had mentioned multiple times how hard she worked to get in. For her to switch classes was really strange. I couldn’t help it. After class, I found out where she had transferred to and went there with an expensive gift. Even if I didn’t know the reason, I wanted to apologize sincerely. Quinn was sitting by the window, laughing with her new classmates. As I hesitated by the window, one of her friends nudged her, saying, “Quinn, someone’s here for you.” Quinn’s smile vanished the moment she turned around. Her expression shifted to one of fear, worse than tears, and her body started shaking uncontrollably. “Ah— It really has nothing to do with you! Please don’t come looking for me anymore, I’m begging you!” Seeing her in such a state, the other students quickly urged me to leave. Defeated, I returned to my classroom with the gift. Rachel noticed my gloomy mood and guessed how my attempt at reconciliation had gone. She came over and patted my back. “Just let it go. You shouldn’t force a relationship with someone who doesn’t want it,” “Your seat is at the front, so the teacher will definitely assign you a new deskmate from the back,” “Who knows, maybe your new deskmate will be even better?” I sighed, “I hope so.” Could a new deskmate really get along with me? The new deskmate assigned to me was named Charlotte. She was really outgoing. In just two classes, we went from strangers to friends, passing notes and chatting easily. We hit it off right away. But after lunch, she suddenly went quiet. When the teacher called on her, the usually lively Charlotte froze for a moment before standing up. She told the teacher she had been distracted and didn’t know the answer. The English teacher frowned, “First Quinn, now you. One after another, none of you are focused. What’s going on?” Charlotte’s gaze seemed to flicker briefly in my direction. Though it was quick, I noticed it, feeling especially sensitive lately. I realized Charlotte was also starting to act strangely. She began avoiding me, both on purpose and by accident. Even during nap time, when I half-awoke, I caught her staring at me.
Her mouth was twisted, fingers nervously gnawing on them. Her beautiful nails were now chewed to the quick, white edges crumbling. When she realized I had caught her, she looked uneasy. Her bright eyes were bloodshot as she quickly backed away. She blended into the cherry blossoms outside the window. Then she clutched her chest and turned her head away from me. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me and rushed forward to grab her hand. “What’s wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” “No, it’s not you!” The usually bold Charlotte screamed and violently shook off my hand. As if I was an unapproachable monster. I turned away, tears forming in my eyes. Why? I hadn’t done anything wrong; I had been nice to them. First Quinn, and now Charlotte, both treating me like this. I took out a mirror, checking my reflection from all angles, but nothing seemed off. I may not be beautiful, but surely I wasn’t repulsive enough to make others feel sick? Tears filled my eyes. Charlotte saw and looked a bit guilty, as if wanting to comfort me. Suddenly, she jumped in fright, rubbing her back frantically. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she shouted, before rushing toward the window! I quickly pulled her back, with help from classmates who had woken up. After that, worried about her mental state, I didn’t approach her like I did with Quinn. I just observed her quietly, afraid she might do something drastic. Then, one day during PE, Charlotte was missing. Worried, I searched everywhere. Finally, I found her in the classroom, sitting in my seat and rifling through my desk drawer. I blinked in disbelief. “Charlotte, what are you doing?” She didn’t seem to hear me. When she finally found a piece of paper, she screamed. Looking up and seeing me, her pupils widened in panic. Before PE was even over, she rushed to the teacher’s office to ask for a seat change. The teacher sighed, “That seat is great, right at the front. Why do you want to move?” “I don’t want to be at the front or back. Please, teacher!” As Charlotte spoke, she glanced nervously out the window, catching sight of me. She began pleading, “Teacher, please, I’m begging you!” But the teacher was losing patience. “I have to think about other students too. I can’t cater to all your demands.” Charlotte was left speechless, dropping to her knees in despair. She wanted to escape. But seeing me at the door, she didn’t dare step out. I sighed heavily and turned back to the classroom. My seat remained empty. Charlotte didn’t return. The next day, the teacher announced she was taking a leave of absence. “Charlotte says she’s not feeling well and needs some time off,” The teacher tapped the blackboard firmly, “Even though we’re only sophomores, we need to concentrate. Environmental issues don’t matter; a calm mind is key.” Despite her words, I couldn’t help but wonder why all this was happening. After class, I turned to find my best friend Rachel. We hurried to the corridor to talk. I clenched my fists, saying, “I need to find out what’s going on. Otherwise, I’ll keep overthinking it.” Rachel frowned, “I don’t know, but if you want to investigate, I’ll help.”
Rachel thought of the paper Charlotte had rushed back into the classroom to find in my desk during PE. “There must have been a reason for that.” “Yeah, but I can’t figure it out,” I said, helplessly showing Rachel the paper. “Yeah, but I just can’t figure it out,” I said helplessly, showing Rachel the piece of paper. “It’s just a regular health record showing I’m fine.” I was trying to understand why Charlotte wanted to see my health record. Rachel looked frustrated. “Could she think you have some contagious disease that might spread to her?” I glanced at myself. “I don’t have any skin issues and I look healthy. There’s no way I’m sick.” “I know you’re not sick,” Rachel rolled her eyes. This whole situation felt bizarre. Then I remembered something. A few days ago, I had asked the class president if I seemed off. He had looked me over, confused, and said I seemed perfectly normal. So at least he didn’t think I was strange. Maybe he could help us figure this out. Just as I was about to go find him, I saw him walking towards me. “Haley, have the recent issues with your two deskmates gotten to you?” I sighed. “Yeah, they’re still bothering me. They’re acting like I’m some kind of plague.” The class president tried to reassure me. “It’s not your fault. The teachers were even joking about whether that seat has bad feng shui or something, like the cherry blossom scent is too overpowering and confusing everyone.” I knew he was just trying to make me feel better. “It’s fine, I know this is probably related to me in some way. You don’t have to convince me otherwise.” He asked, “Do you remember when their behavior changed?” I thought hard. Quinn had started acting weird when the cherry blossoms bloomed, just a few days after the semester began. As for Charlotte, she switched from being enthusiastic to cold and panicked during one lunch break. The class president focused on a detail: “When the cherry blossoms bloomed, did you do anything specific?” I recalled, “I took her and Rachel to see the cherry blossoms in the small woods on campus. Does that count?” “The small woods? Isn’t that area off-limits? What were you doing there?” His expression shifted to concern. A moment later, he looked terrified. He shot me a strange look, his legs began to tremble, and he dashed back to the classroom. Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t the school rule about that place just because of bugs? How can such a big guy be scared?” But then it hit me: “So it’s all because of the small woods. We should check it out after school.” Rachel shrugged. “Whatever you want.” After lunch, I returned to the classroom, where no one else was there yet. I stood at the door and saw the class president sitting in my spot, frantically searching for something. His eyes were bloodshot, and sweat dripped from his forehead. Finally, he pulled out a piece of paper. The moment he read it, he looked as if he had seen a ghost. When he looked up and saw me, he practically fell over and screamed. I was startled by his reaction. “Why are you shouting? The teacher asked me to come ask you about a new deskmate.” “Go ask the teacher yourself, I don’t know!” Seeing his panic, I was worried I might scare him further if I went in. I turned and headed to the teacher’s office to find our homeroom teacher. “Teacher, I really don’t understand why this is happening.” She tried to reassure me. “It’s not your fault. High school students deal with a lot of pressure.” But her words hinted that I should reconsider how I interact with my classmates. It frustrated me. “How about this, teacher? Since no one wants to sit next to me anyway, Rachel is my best friend. Why not move her next to me?” At least Rachel wouldn’t mind sitting with me. The homeroom teacher paused, her fingers frozen on the keyboard. With a puzzled expression, she looked at me.
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