I'm the unluckiest girl in the world. I reckon a witch came to my christening party and put a bad luck spell on me. That's why I've got frizzy orange hair and freckles. And why I'm the biggest girl in my class. And why I don't have any friends.

Most kids at school call me Big Red. But there are four girls in my class who call me Orange Roughy - when they think I can't hear them. I get my own back by calling them Bubbleheads. I don't care if they hear me.

Bad luck happens to me all the time. For instance, I'm always breaking things. In the last month I've broken a chair (I was only tipping it back a couple of centimetres), a coffee-table (furniture made of glass is plain stupid), and a TV set (this was my little brother's fault because he wouldn't hand over the remote).

Two months ago at school I broke a window when I picked up a cricket bat in the playground and took a whack at a stone. CRASH! Glass everywhere. The boy who owned the bat was very angry about the dent in it, but I gave him a Chinese burn till he agreed it wasn't my fault. It was just bad luck.

There's more. When the kids in my class pair up for shared activities nobody ever chooses me. I'm always the one left over. When we go for a cross-country run I'm the one who falls over and hobbles back to school with a bloody knee. On my own, of course. I really am the Queen of Unlucky.

One day I was walking home from school when I suddenly decided I'd had enough. So far that day my bad luck had been working overtime. Sarah had borrowed my green felt-tip pen and a minute later it ran dry. When I pinched her to make her promise to buy me a new one, she cried and the teacher sent me into the Time Out Corner for an hour. "I'm sick of being so unlucky!" I said aloud. "Why can't I have a fairy godmother to make all the bad luck turn into good luck?"

Just then I noticed a little old lady standing by the side of the road. "Would you mind helping me cross the road, dearie?" she said in a squeaky voice.

I was about to tell her I was far too busy, when I noticed a unusual sparkle in her eye. "Okay," I said, "hang on to my arm. Let's go." I could hardly believe it. Big Red didn't do soppy things like helping old ladies.

When we reached the other side of the road, the old lady did a strange thing. She reached up and patted my hair. "You're Big Red, aren't you?" she said. "I've heard of you."

"What have you heard?" I growled.

"I've heard that you could do with a dose of good luck," she said. "Remember, one good turn deserves another. When you get the chance tomorrow at school, you make sure you put your hand up."

I put on my best scowl. "What d'you mean?"

She twinkled at me. "Just remember – put your hand up."

Then she scooted off along the footpath, quite nippy for someone who could only shuffle a minute ago.

"Put my hand up?" I muttered. "What's she talking about? Silly old bat."

The next morning the Principal came into our classroom, followed by a small girl with golden skin and long black hair. The girl's head was bent, as if she was really embarrassed. Or else very shy.

"Good morning," the Principal said. "You have a new classmate joining you today. Her name is Maya Lee. She comes from a country a long way away." She looked round the room. "I want a volunteer to be Maya's buddy."

Put your hand up, said the old lady's whispery voice in my head. I stuck my hand up and waved wildly. Some other kids did too.

Mrs Beatson looked at me. "Lucy," she said doubtfully. "Umm ... are you sure? You've never volunteered to help anyone before. You'll have to devote a lot of your own time to helping Maya."

"I've got plenty of time," I said.

Mrs Beatson smiled. "All right. Lucy, I'm relying on you to be a good buddy. Maya is relying on you too. Don't let us down."

Maya looked at me and smiled shyly. "Hello, Lucy," she said. "I am very glad to meet you."

"Me too," I said, grinning like crazy.

We sat together at lunchtime and I told Maya all about the school and the teachers and our classmates. She listened and smiled and nodded. Then she said softly, "Thank you for being my buddy, Lucy."

During afternoon class our teacher had to take someone to the sickbay and we were left alone for a few minutes. I was working on my arithmetic when I heard a hissing sound coming from the table where the Bubbleheads were sitting. Maya, who was working beside me, looked up. Then she sort of scrunched down as if she wanted to hide under the table. I listened hard. The Bubbleheads were singing two words, over and over again. "Slant-eyes, Slant-eyes," they chanted softly.

I got up. I went to the Bubbleheads' table and leaned over them. For once I was proud of being the biggest and strongest girl in the class. "If I ever hear you saying that horrible name again I'll tip your bottles of nail polish all over your stupid fashion magazines," I said. "You can call me Orange Roughy any day, but what you're calling Maya is mean and cruel. Understand?"

They shrank in their seats and nodded.

When I went back to my chair Maya gave me a watery smile. "Thank you, Lucy," she whispered. "You're a good friend."

"Sometimes it helps being big and ugly," I told her.

Maya touched my hand. "Lucy," she said, "To me, you're not ugly. You are beautiful. You have hair like fire and your skin is decorated with golden stars. You are big and bright and brave. You are a sun princess."

My mouth fell open. A princess? Me?

The next morning Maya came and sat beside me. "I have a present for you," she said. She pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It was a little stone carving of a fat man with a bulging stomach and a smiling face.

"What is it?" I said.

"It's a Laughing Buddha," Maya told me. "In my country we believe that if you rub his stomach you have good luck."

"Thank you, Maya," I said, my eyes starting to prickle. I rubbed my thumb over the Buddha's smooth stomach, round and round and round. I could feel the good luck flowing into me. One good turn deserves another, whispered the old-ladyish voice inside my head.

Was she my fairy godmother? Guess I'll never know, because I don't need her any more. Maya is my best friend, and I'm Lucky Lucy now.