From Bad to Cursed

Yeah, whatever.

The judges stood when I came into the room.

I handed over an envelope containing my four new photos—the prints of me and Megan and two from the football game—Pepper Laird in midleap, all vivid color against the black night sky. You could see shards of wet grass flying off her shoes, a bead of sweat about to drip from her knee. And Carter, looking like a cross between a movie star and a preacher at a revival meeting, golden and tall and surrounded by a halo of light.

The judges murmured over the photos.

“Very nice,” the bow-tie man said. “I’ve been consistently impressed by your work.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“There’s a degree of…maturity,” said one of the women, Mrs. Liu. “Your choices are quite unexpected, from a person your age.”

“The only thing…” The other man’s brow furrowed as he held up the photo of Carter. “The eyes bother me in this picture. They’re almost…empty.”

I sat back.

Farrin held up the Pepper picture. “You could do sports photography,” she said. “The more I look at this, the more I like it.”

“Are you thinking about exploring digital?” Mrs. Liu asked.

Even though I wasn’t fully committed to Aralt, there was still that thread of trust inside me, that I could come up with the right answer. I waited for him to feed me my lines.

But nothing came. Like a trapeze artist who looks down and sees that they forgot to put up the net, the words flashed in my head: You’re on your own.

“Alexis?” Farrin prompted.

I couldn’t stall any longer. “Yes. Digital is good,” I said. “Actually, I just got one. A digital camera. I’ve played with it a little.”

Four pairs of squinting eyes watched me.

Think, Alexis. Think. Hold it together.

“Digital is more like…um, instant gratification,” I said. “But it’s definitely fun. I’m glad I learned on film, but…I can see why people like digital.”

“Why are you glad you learned on film?”

“Um,” I said. “Well, because…”

And then I totally blanked. I couldn’t remember the question, or the answer, or what I wanted to say, or what I’d already said.

“Alexis?” Farrin asked.

“Digital,” I said. “Um. When you shoot film, you have to, like, budget. And you learn to…choose.”

“To edit?” Farrin prompted.

“Yes,” I said. “As you go. Like, be disciplined.”

There was a long, horrible pause.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure,” Mrs. Liu said, not beaming quite as brightly as she had at the begi

The others said their good-byes, mostly without eye contact.

“Alexis,” Farrin said, “on your way out, would you mind sending Jared Elkins back?”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you all.”

“You’re welcome,” Farrin said. And then she coughed.

Our eyes met. Hers were wide and shocked, and I imagine mine were the same.

Aralt’s girls didn’t get sick.

They didn’t completely space out during important interviews, either.

I hurried back to the lobby. Jared waited on the bench, studying one of his new prints. I paused to look over his shoulder.

It showed a young girl on a swing, her hair streaming behind her and her feet pointed forward in the perfect expression of action and i

“Like it?” he asked.

I nodded without looking up. The joy and freedom of the little girl starkly contrasted with the horror behind her. In a single moment, the picture made you happy and afraid and desolately lonely. It kind of blew my mind a little.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Fine.” Then I remembered myself. “They asked me to send you back.”

“Okay, thanks,” he said, sliding the book out from under my gaze.

I swallowed hard. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He reached a hand out and shook mine decisively. “May the best man or woman win.”

“Yes,” I said, my breath catching in my throat.

He gave me a slight wave as he disappeared down the hall. When he was gone, the lobby seemed thick with an almost dead stillness.

Would the best man or woman win?

How would I live with myself if the answer was no?

The next morning, I avoided the Sunshine Club altogether and went to the library, where I got a head start on the day’s shelving. But I couldn’t hide out at lunch. I set my lunch box down at the very end of the table.

I thought about saving a chair for Carter, but he was nowhere in sight. Whatever was going on with us—with Aralt—was loosening my hold on Carter, too. Which was partially fine—but I didn’t want us getting so loose that we fell apart.

Megan slammed her tray down and took the chair to my right. She bent over her food like she wanted to be ignored, but the way she was breathing—through her nose, as fast and hard as if she’d just run a marathon, made that impossible.

“Um…are you okay?” I asked.

She didn’t look up, just kept slurping soup off her spoon. “Fine.”

All right, then.

Kasey ended up in the seat next to mine. A low buzz came from the other end of the table, and I looked down to see Adrie

I elbowed Kasey. “Is Adrie

“It’s me,” Megan said, dropping her spoon. “She’s looking at me.”

Adrie

Kasey leaned closer to me and whispered so quietly I could barely hear her. “Swttzz.”

What? Sweaters? Megan was wearing a pale yellow, scoop-necked sweater with three-quarter sleeves cuffed by a delicate ruffle of sheer ivory ribbon.

And so was Adrie

Megan’s tractor-trailer breath hadn’t gotten any softer.

“Whoa, take it easy,” I said, like she was a horse. “There’s nothing to be upset about.”

Megan’s eyes shot daggers at me. “I told her last night I was going to wear this today.”

Adrie

“I said it first!” Megan said.

“Well, I pla