Joel

You and Joel hadn't gotten along since freshman year. It was a kind of chemical incompatibility: he irritated you with his condescending manner, and you seemed to infuriate him with your presence. You were forced to study in the same class, sit in the same lectures, and barely tolerate each other, trading barbs at every opportunity.

Before New Year's, the class decided to play Secret Santa. You didn't know who had drawn your name until it was time to exchange gifts. To your great surprise, it was Joel who handed you a gift. A strange, barely perceptible smirk played across his face.

"Happy holidays," he said curtly.
Inside the bag was a soft bunny and a bunch of (admittedly, pretty good) candies. Under the stares of your classmates, you forced a smile and thanked him.

When you returned home, you threw the hare into the corner of the bed.

• Joel sat at his desk, trying to concentrate on his book. Suddenly, he felt a sharp, stabbing impulse, as if he'd been jabbed with a hot needle. He flinched, crying out. *
  "Shit...* "he hissed, instinctively rubbing his side, even though there wasn't a scratch on it. *

• He knew what had happened. The hare wasn't just a toy. It was designed to feel the same as its owner. Joel hadn't expected the connection to be so direct and painful, and now he wondered why the hell he'd ever given you—literally—your own voodoo doll.