The Bet (Persaud Girl)

by Mott, Teisha

  “I’m sure she’s very pretty, Christopher darling,” Grandma said.

  “Of course!” Christopher said. “’She’s the prettiest girl in school. She has dark skin, and she always wears ribbons in her hair. I have very good taste in girls, Grandpa, just like you.”

  Grandpa Ravi chuckled at Christopher’s wit. He was an old soul trapped in an 8 year old body. “Yes, son, Persaud men have very good taste in girls!”

  Andie forced herself to finish her dinner while everyone else carried on the conversation. Her mind kept going back to Nathan. Her father was of the impression that Nathan liked her. Surely he could not have seen that in the few seconds he had seen them together. And what about what Samantha said? Nathan was friends with that awful Jeremy Malcolm. Andie did not know Jeremy Malcolm, but he obviously did not have a good reputation. What if Nathan really was like Jeremy? She made a mental note to ask Fern about Jeremy Malcolm. Maybe he lived on Preston Hall too.

  Later, after her grandparents had left, Andie sat in her bedroom alone. She was surrounded by her GT11A textbooks and the notes she had taken at the library while waiting on Samantha. She remembered what Nathan had told her earlier about her paper, and about calling him for help. She reached for her Economics notebook. The paper with Nathan’s number was still folded neatly inside. She studied it for a few minutes. N-a-t-h-a-n H-a-n-s-e-n, C-l-u-s-t-e-r 6-C, e-x-t 2-7-8. Phoning Nathan was a big deal. She had never phoned a boy before. She had no idea what to say to him.

  Andie sighed. She wished she was her sister. She remembered how easy it had been for Samantha to talk to him. She had been so casual and cool and collected. It was easy, Andie thought, to be casual and cool and collected when one was as beautiful as Samantha. But when one had red hair and pink skin, it was a tad more difficult.

  “What are we doing?” Christopher burst into her room, startling her.

  “Christopher, you cannot burst in here like that without knocking!” Andie yelled. “How many times I must tell you the same thing?”

  “Sorry!” Christopher said. “I forgot.” He climbed into his sister’s bed. “So, what are we doing?”

  “I’m trying to do my homework. Isn’t your bed time gone? You know you’re going to have trouble getting up in the morning.”

  “You don’t look like you’re doing homework to me,” Christopher surmised. “You look like you were staring off into space.”

  Andie looked at her little brother. He was much too smart for an eight year-old. He was cute too, with his curly brown hair, hazel eyes and dark caramel skin. Andie guessed that in ten years he would be a Nathan Hansen-like character—drop dead gorgeous and brainy to match.

  “I have something very important to do, and I am trying to decide whether to do it or not.” Andie told him.

  “Is it something you have to do?” Christopher asked.

  “Nooo,” Andie said carefully. “But it is something I really want to do. I just don’t know whether I can actually do it.”

  “You want to know what I think?”

  Andie sighed. “What do you think?”

  “I think you can do anything! And you know why I think that? Because you are my big sister, and you are smart and cool, and you go to University! I don’t think there is anything you can’t do!”

  “That’s very kind of you to say,” Andie said, ruffling Christopher’s hair. “Thank you very much for your vote of confidence.”

  “If you want, I can stay with you while you do it,” Christopher offered.

  Andie opened her mouth to respond just as someone knocked on her bedroom door.

  Andie, it’s Mommy. Is Christopher in there?”

  “Should I tell on you or you going to surrender?” Andie whispered.

  “Might as well surrender,” Christopher shrugged. “She’ll find me eventually. Coming, Mommy!” He climbed out of his sister’s bed and scampered toward the door. “’Night. And good luck with whatever you have to do.”

  “’Night, Christopher, darling. Have good dreams!”

  From behind her closed bedroom door, Andie could hear her mother scolding Christopher for not being in bed. She smiled and turned back to her paper. She remembered what Christopher said. He thought she was cool and smart, and could do anything. Her little brother looked up to her. If nobody else thought she was smart and cool, Christopher certainly did. His confidence in her gave her the push she needed. She picked up the telephone and dialled the number for Preston Hall.

  She could feel her heart thumping as the telephone rang. She was about to hang up when she heard, “Preston Hall, good evening!”

  “G-good evening,” she stuttered. “Extension 278, please.”

  Andie thought she was having an out of body experience. The extension to Nathan’s dorm was ringing. She thought she would pass out when a guy’s voice answered.

  “May I please speak with Nathan?” She whispered, wondering if Nathan had given her the correct extension.

  “Who?”

  “Nathan… Nathan Hansen,” she repeated. The person who answered probably thought she was a weirdo.

  “Oh. Hold on.”

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” she whispered, as the person bellowed for Nathan. She was really going to talk to Nathan Hansen! What was she going to say?

  It didn’t matter thirty seconds later, when the person came back and told her that Nathan was not there.

  Andie was disappointed. “Oh,” was all she could say.

  “He’s probably at the library. This is his housemate, Jeremy. I could take a message for him.”

  Andie hesitated. Jeremy? Could it be Jeremy Malcolm, the creep Samantha mentioned at dinner? Should she leave a message with him for Nathan?

  “Hello? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. Yes I am. Could you please tell him that Anne Dru Persaud called?”

  “Anne Dru Persaud?” Jeremy repeated. Andie thought he sounded shocked. She decided he was probably weirded out because he was talking to a Persaud. “Anne Dru Persaud. Does he have your number, Anne Dru? Perhaps he could call you back?”

  “No, he doesn’t actually,” Andie said. “You have a pen?”

  She repeated her number to Jeremy. If Nathan was truly interested in helping her, he would call her back.

  “I will pass on the message,” Jeremy said. “You have a good night, Anne Dru.”

  “You, too,” Andie replied. “Thank you.”

  She hung up, feeling pleased with herself. It was not that bad, calling Nathan. Albeit she had not spoken to him, she felt she had floored one Hercules. The ball was in Nathan’s court now. It was up to him to make the next move. Jeremy sounded pleasant, too. Perhaps Samantha was wrong about him. Or perhaps it was a different Jeremy.

  Andie settled around her desk. She powered up her laptop and began to write. WILL IT MATTER? Was all she managed to type. She closed her eyes, and prayed that Nathan would call soon.

  ***

  It was eleven forty-five when Nathan returned from the library. He was shocked to find Jeremy waiting for him in the common area of the dorm that they shared.

  “Is not you have a eight o’clock class tomorrow, yout’?” Nathan inquired, putting his books on the table.

  “You got a phone call while you were at the library.” Jeremy said.

  Nathan looked puzzled. Jeremy was wearing a sly smile. “Who was it?” He asked. “My mother? My grandparents? Joie?”

  “None of the above,” Jeremy said. “I put the message on the fridge.”

  “You get weirder and weirder every day, Jeremy!” Nathan said, moving towards the refrigerator. He took a glass from the cupboard, aiming to pour himself some juice. The glass slipped from his hand and shattered into little pieces when he read the message.

  “Rahtid!” He breathed. “Andie called? What time she call?”

  “About nine-fifteen
,” Jeremy said. “So, the wheels of our little bet finally start to turn. I was wondering…”

  “She said how late I could call her back?” Nathan interrupted.

  “I don’t think Dr Persaud would be too thrilled if you phoned his house at almost midnight!” Jeremy pointed out. “Worse if he knew you were only doing it so you could screw his little daughter.”

  Nathan did not answer him. He got the broom and dustpan, and started cleaning up the shards of glass on the floor. Jeremy leaned against the wall and watched him.

  “So, yout’, how close you be to getting into those pretty, tight fitting pants?”

  “Move away from me,” Nathan put the glass in the bin, and moved towards his room.

  “You only have seven weeks left, Nathan!” Jeremy followed him.

  “And I’m not worried, Jeremy,” Nathan said. “I will get her by then!”

  “Sure you will!” Jeremy was being sarcastic. He chuckled. “This is sweet!”

  “Go to hell!” Nathan slammed the door, and flopped on to his bed. He looked at the message Andie had left for him. He wished he had not stayed at the library so long. It was five minutes before midnight. He could not possibly phone her now. He turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes. He brought to mind the flawless face of Anne Dru Persaud. He remembered how nice she smelled when he sat next to her on the bench outside the IFLT. He did not like what he was doing to her—what Jeremy was forcing him to do with her.

  He thought of his little sister Joie and how much he loved her. He would kill any bastard who would dare to seduce her.

  Not for the first time, Nathan wished he had not made the bet with Jeremy. But it was too late now; he had to follow through. He had to bring Jeremy Malcolm down, and he had to use Andie Persaud to do it.

  ***

  Andie could not sleep. She tossed and turned in bed, trying to get comfortable. The luminous hands of the clock next to her bed told her it was five minutes before midnight. She had been waiting for Nathan to call her back since nine thirty. It was now obvious that he was not going to call. Her eyes burned with tears. It was not that she wanted Nathan to call her. She only wanted him to help her with her paper. She wanted to do a good job on Professor Brown’s paper, and get a good grade. The fact that Nathan Hansen, with his big, infectious smile, mesmerising brown eyes was the person who could help her was not at all an issue. So what if he was cute, twenty and not related to her? That was not the reason she really, really wanted him to call her back. Andie felt like a fool now. If only she had not left her name. His stupid friend knew she had called. And now all the people who lived in his house on Preston Hall would know that she had called, and that he did not call her back. That was enough to make her ill with embarrassment.

  The grandfather clock downstairs struck midnight. Andie pulled the covers up over her head. She really needed to get some sleep. She had an eight o’clock class in the morning, and if she did not get to sleep, she would be cranky in the morning, and probably have a bad day.

  “Crap, crap, crap!” Andie muttered underneath the covers. She could not believe she was losing sleep over that creep. That creep, who did not even have the decency to return her call, after he was the one who offered to help her.

  Tossing and turning, Andie eventually fell into a troubled sleep, and dreamed of Nathan, Professor Brown and herself all lost in the White House.

  ***

  Wednesday morning, 7.05

  “Andie you’re going to make us late!”

  Andie was sure all of Norbrook could hear Samantha’s bellowing.

  “I’m coming! Don’t rush me!” Andie bellowed back. She pulled on the nearest pair of jeans she could find, not even stopping to check if it was clean.

  “We have to go or we’ll have traffic!” Samantha yelled again.

  “I said don’t rush me! I’m ready when I’m ready!

  Andie had woken up in a bad mood. She was cross because she had not gotten much sleep, she was cross because she had not made any headway on her paper and although she would not admit it to herself, she was cross that Nathan had not called her back.

  She pulled on an Izzy baby T that barely covered her midriff and yanked her hair into a tight ponytail. Not bothering to check the mirror, she grabbed her backpack and binder and bounded down the stairs.

  “What were you doing up there so long?” Samantha was furious. She chucked her sister a lunch bag containing sandwiches and a couple of fruit cups that Theresa, one of the live-in housekeepers, had made for their breakfast.

  “Don’t bother me!” Andie grabbed the bag, and the two bottles of cranberry juice that were on the counter. She followed her sister out the back door.

  “I’m tired of telling you that when we have eight o’clock classes, we have to be out of the house by six thirty!” Samantha continued to scold. “It is now ten past seven. Waterloo Road is going to be jam packed, and we’re going to be late, all because of you!”

  “I didn’t tell you to wait for me!” Andie snapped. “Next time, leave me!”

  “I will do just that!” Samantha disarmed her blue Rav4 and flung her books into the back.

  The Rav4 was a gift to Samantha from her parents – a reward for earning five A’s in her A’ levels. Looking at the shiny blue SUV parked in the driveway gave Andie another reason to be cross.

  “Yes, leave me!” She raged. “Leave me, you selfish witch! You think you can treat me anyway you want just because you’re spoiled enough to get your own car!”

  “I worked hard and earned my own car, you disgusting little piece of turd!” Samantha snapped. She shoved her sister. “Just shut up, and get in!”

  “Don’t you push me!” Andie screamed. She faced her sister, eyes flashing. “I swear to God I’ll push you back. I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You know, you’re lucky I don’t want to miss my class, or I’d whup your behind this morning, Anne Dru!” Samantha snarled. “Now get in the damn car!”

  Andie knew just how far to push her sister. She got into the car, ensuring that she slammed the door as hard as possible. Samantha glared at Andie as she got into the driver’s seat.

  “And don’t even think of speaking for this trip!” She warned.

  “As if I would want to speak to you!” Andie mumbled.

  The tension in the Rav4 was palpable, and lasted the entire trip from the affluent neighbourhood of Norbrook in upper St. Andrew to the UWI Mona campus. Andie pouted the entire trip. She wished she had not yelled at her sister; it was not Samantha’s fault that Nathan had not called her back. And with not even the slightest chance of civility between herself and Samantha now, she dared not ask her if she knew where Nathan Hansen was having classes that morning. She wanted to apologise, but her pride would not let her.

  At five minutes before eight, after some fierce ‘taxi-man’ driving, and shortcuts through Cherry Gardens, Samantha pulled into the main gate of the University of the West Indies. She pulled over on the ring road to allow Andie to get out.

  “I have classes straight ‘till two and then a meeting with my mentor at three-thirty,” she said. “I’ll drop you home after class so I can get back here for my meeting.”

  Andie did not say anything. She grabbed her backpack and binder.

  “Two o’clock, Andie, don’t be late,” Samantha cautioned her sister. “Have a good day.”

  Andie still did not respond, but began to walk across the lawns to her class.

  “Hey, Andie!” Samantha called.

  Andie turned to look at her sister.

  “I said, ‘have a good day’!’”

  “You too, Samantha,” Andie said unenthusiastically.

  Her sister waved and drove off. Her kindness made Andie feel even worse. Samantha was never one to hold a grudge.

  She kicked a pebble across the lawn until she got to the Social Sciences Lectu
re Theatre where her Introduction to Sociology class was being held. Dr Tabanor was not there yet. Andie spotted Fern McNally, and went to sit next to her.

  “Your face is as long as a wet week!” Fern greeted her. “Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”

  “I hate eight o’clock in the morning!” Andie said. “I haven’t finished sleeping and I am hungry and I’m not in the mood to learn anything.”

  “Ah!” Fern said. “Well, if I were you, I would set my face properly before the wind changes and you have that pouty, screw-faced look forever!”

  Andie looked at Fern, puzzled. Before she could ask Fern what she meant by the wind changing, Dr Tabanor entered the lecture theatre. That meant no more talking for the next two hours.

  Andie sighed and opened her notebook. She neatly dated the page, conscious that the date would be the only neat writing in her Sociology notebook on that day.

  ***

  At five minutes before ten o’clock, just when she thought her fingers would fall off from note taking, Dr Tabanor dismissed the class. Andie stuffed her notebook and pen into her backpack and double-checked her timetable. She had Introduction to Financial Accounting next. That was one class she was sure she was comfortable in. Accounting had always been her best subject. Accounting and Mathematics. Working with figures tended to calm her and bring her out of the black moods she sometimes had.

  “What class you have now?” She asked Fern as they weaved their way through the crowded lecture theatre.

  “Introductory Psychology,” Fern told her.

  “What’s your major?”

  “International Relations and Economics,” Fern replied.

  “Just like Nathan,” Andie thought.

  She instantly recalled that she was cross with him for not having the decency to phone her back.

  “What’s yours?” Fern asked.

  “Finance and Banking,” Andie replied. “I’m supposed to take over Persaud Financials in a few years – but no pressure.”

  Fern laughed. “I’m sure there’s no pressure, knowing that the future of a multimillion dollar Investment Bank is resting on your shoulders!”