1 Curse of the Were-Geek

"Okay, class, settle down, settle down" Mr. Simmons urged his rowdy class one fine spring afternoon. With the usual gradual effect, the talking, tossing, and pacing died off, and the kids looked upon their teacher with the kind of look a typical class of fourth graders would give. Their undaunted, eager instructor headed towards the door, talking as he went.

"Class, although our year is already in progress, we've just received a new exchange student from Rumania. I know that you'll give her the same respect that you usually share with each other, and that her special talents will be accepted easily. But, for now, it's my pleasure to introduce to you our new classmate, Esmeralda!"

On cue, a young girl stepped somewhat nervously into the room. She sported the typical clothing one would expect from her culture, a somewhat timid smile on her face. She stood next to her new educator, grinning hopefully at her classmates.

"I'm very glad to be here in America", Esmeralda stated, her thick accent enforcing her words. Many of the kids in the class reacted with moods of curiosity, interest, or even that this might be an interesting person to get to know.

Of course, a certain student was looking down upon the girl in her usual way.

"What IS she wearing?" Rhonda mumbled to herself, looking at the girl's clothing with annoyance. "Her parents must have picked up some rags from the bargain bin before she came to school today. A pity...I almost feel bad for her. Almost."

"Take a seat where ever you wish, Esmeralda", Mr. Simmons urged, handing her a textbook. "We're just about to continue our history lesson on the West." The young lady smiled and nodded her thanks then gingerly sat in an empty seat surrounded by her new classmates. After seeing her sit, Mr. Simmons made sure his new charge was comfortable, and began his lesson.

"Now, continuing from yesterday, a rendezvous was a place for those who needed a rest or trading along their journeys..."

"Hi, Esmeralda. My name's Arnold. Welcome to the United States", the football headed boy whispered to the arrival with his usual, winning grin. Esmeralda blushed and waved back...he was certainly a charmer. Other kids around her smiled or waved discretely as their teacher drawled on about the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Judging from the appearances, habits, and voices of the children around her, many ways of life were covered here. She was just starting to feel she would easily assimilate American school life when she noticed a girl with black hair and a red sweater, eyeing her with annoyance and partial disgust.

"Greetings...I am Esmeralda."

"Please tell me you actually don't like those...RAGS."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look, if you honestly expect that you'll get accept here looking like...that..."

"What's wrong? This is how we always dress in the old country!"

"Yeah, well your old country needs a bulk delivery of Caprini cat-"

"Rhonda, is there a problem?" Mr. Simmons cut in. The girl's facial features shifted slightly, and sighed.

"No, Mr. Simmons", the wealthy kid groaned. The teacher looked at her for a moment, shrugged, and continued his explanations of Native American reservations.

"I am sorry...Rhonda...if I have offended you", the Rumanian urged.

"You certainly have...change those clothes, and then, maybe, we'll talk."

Esmeralda shot the snob a glare as she turned back to face her teacher.

An hour later found the new student at lunch. She picked up a sampling of the school's provided dining, and began to walk towards the tables. She was making good progress, too, until she tripped on a loose tile. She wasn't all that hurt, but the splashing sound in front of her told her that she had hit someone with her food. The one person she DIDN'T need to hit, that is.

"My sweats! My precious Caprini sweats! Watch where you're going, you clumsy uncultured twit!"

Esmeralda looked up to see a scowling Rhonda, with nasty milk stains trickling across her sweater and pants. She blushed, and picked up some napkins from a nearby dispenser.

"Please, forgive me, Rhonda...I didn't know that was l-"

"Take your hands off me!" Rhonda snapped, smacking her hands away.

"Why are clothes so important to you?"

"Why are clothes so UN-important to YOU?"

"You are being, how you say, the donkey's hindquarters!" the Rumanian snapped. By now, a large crowd of kids had gathered around the tense situation.

"Oh, boo hoo. Go to the Gap, and then we can talk civilized."

"I sense you do not appreciate the smart or different..." she muttered, fists clenched. Rhonda tossed her head back, scoffing.

"As IF I would lower myself to such a REPULSIVE level!"

"Very well, Rhonda Lloyd...I think some needs to teach you a lesson!"

"Yeah, yeah, that's n- Woah, wait...how'd you know my last name?!" the snob asked. Her cocky, confident attitude had been shaken. Esmeralda ignored the comment, staring into her eyes, advancing on her adversary. Rhonda, now slightly shaking, backed away until she had been forced against the wall. The exchange student hovered in front of her now, her cheerful face twisted into a mood of vengeance.

"You feel that people like you are so superior? Then, I curse you to become at night what you hate and fear most...a GEEK!" Esmeralda stared her down a moment more, noticing the nervous sweat dripping down Rhonda's confused, unsettled face. Then, she turned and melted back into the crowd.

"Whillicers, Rhonda...she sounded mighty peeved", Stinky observed.

"Yeah, better watch your back, Rhondaloid", Helga sneered.

"Pffft. As if I'd allow that fashion dunce to spook me. What does she think she is, jabbering about a curse...a voodoo doctor?" Rhonda scoffed, again tossing her black air back in annoyance.

"Actually, Rhonda, if I may give input", Phoebe urged, "I may know why she made that claim. Judging from her habits, personality, and background, I think it may be argued that Esmeralda is in fact one of the Romany."

"The what?" Sid asked.

"The gypsies, as you may be more familiar calling them."

"A GYPSY?! What does that fashion reject take me for?" Rhonda sputtered in annoyance. "I am a LLYOD. We don't believe in such hocus pocus!"

"Suit yourself, Rhonda" Sheena shrugged as she went back to her lunch. The crowd slowly trickled away, until Arnold was left alone with the rich airhead.

"Rhonda, I think you really hurt her feelings..."

"Oh, come now Arnold. You seriously don't consider her threats valid."

"Well, no, but that's not what I'm saying. You insulted her as a person, a way of life, and a culture. I don't think that was a nice thing to do."

"Arnold, you worry...let alone care...too much. I'll be fine...as long as 'Esme' stays out of my way with her 'magic gypsy powers!'" Rhonda giggled, finger quoting the end of her sentence. "Well, I'm off for lunch with my friends, Arnold. Ta ta!" And with that, Rhonda turned on her heels and strolled back to her table, leaving Arnold to sigh and walk off to join Gerald at his.

"A gypsy, eh?" Helga mused to herself softly behind some trashcans. "I think that Esmeralda might come in handy with a certain lil' football head of mine", she smiled wistfully to herself. This could be the chance she had been waiting for.