by Mott, Teisha
Fifteen minutes later, Andie saw Dylan’s blue Subaru Impreza WRX pull up at the gate. In seconds, he was next to her on the bench.
“What did that bastard do to you?” Dylan demanded as he sat.
A new wave of self-pity descended on Andie and she turned to hug her cousin and gasping sobs came from her throat.
“It’s alright,” Dylan told her as he hugged her. “Don’t cry, Andie. No guy is worth it, and certainly not Nathan Hansen!”
“He said he loved me,” Andie wept. “But it was all a lie. He took me out just to win a bet…” The entire story of what had transpired came tumbling out of Andie’s mouth between incoherent gulps.
Dylan listened as he held her and allowed her to cry. He smoothed her hair, as her sobs turned to sniffles. “We can’t stay here,” he said. “Let me take you home.”
“My backpack is in his room,” Andie explained, accepting the handkerchief that Dylan offered her. She dabbed her eyes. “I took Samantha’s car. The keys are in it.”
“Sit in my car,” Dylan instructed. “I’ll go get your stuff.
Andie watched her cousin stride purposely, as only he did, across Preston Hall’s parking lot. Five minutes later, he came striding back. This time, his face was flushed red. He looked angry as hell, and Andie was not sure if he was really Dylan or Darrin.
“What happened?” Andie asked him.
“I went in there ready to beat the shit out of that punk!”
“Did you?” Andie asked, suddenly horrified. She realised she did not want Nathan to get beat up after all.
“No!” Dylan disarmed Samantha’s car, and Andie got in. “Wouldn’t even defend himself. I wouldn’t waste my time on that wimp. In there bawling like the frigging mama man that he is!” Dylan shook his head. “Drive behind me to get Klao and Bianca from the library. They can take my car, and I’ll take you home.”
Andie obeyed.
Neither Klao nor Bianca said anything as Dylan got behind the wheel of the Rav4.
“You coming behind us?” Dylan asked his sister. “Or you going home?”
“You want us to come, Andie?” Klao asked kindly.
Andie shook her head. “You have to study.”
“You are more important to us than exams,” Bianca reminded her.
Andie smiled shakily. “I’ll be okay,” she promised. “I’ll call you later.”
The only sound in the car as Dylan headed to Norbrook was Andie’s sniffling. He looked at her feeling really sad for her. He wished he could have done something to protect her from what she was going through. He knew that Nathan Hansen had been known to be somewhat of a Don Juan, but Dylan did not think he was capable of doing to anyone what he had done to Andie. That prank had Jeremy Malcolm written all over it. Dylan was very much aware that the unwritten code in the big brother/ big cousin book was that one had to expose to daylight the intestines of any creep who hurt his little sister/ cousin. In a rage, he had stormed over to Los Matadores, with that aim in mind. In his mind’s eye, he replayed what had happened when he had gone for Andie’s backpack…
Nathan had locked himself into his room, and according to Micah, was not letting anyone in.
“Oh yeah?” Dylan declared. He had pounded on the door. “Nathan Hansen, it’s Dylan Persaud. You better open this damn door before I kick it in!”
Nathan had opened the door. Dylan was taken aback to see Nathan looking as distraught as Andie. His face was red, and Dylan had not been sure whether it was from crying or rage. At the time, he did not care. His only concern was that this miscreant had broken his cousin’s heart, and had her crying in the parking lot for all to see.
“Where is my cousin’s bag?” He demanded.
Nathan wordlessly motioned to Andie’s backpack that was sitting on the chair. Having established that Andie’s property was safe, Dylan turned to Nathan.
“You messed with the wrong girl, idiot!” He growled. In one movement, he had Nathan collared. “I’m going to punch you clear into next week!”
“Go ahead!” Nathan said. “Hit me. Hit me hard. I deserve it!” He swiped at his eyes. “I should never have made that bet with Jeremy, and I should have told Andie about it the minute I…”
“The minute you what?”
“The minute I knew I loved her!” Nathan’s voice broke. “I wasn’t going through with it. I love her, Dylan! She has to know that!”
Dylan let go of him. “You stay away from my cousin, you hear me?" He warned. "Don’t even breathe near her!”
“Tell her I’m sorry!” Nathan told Dylan’s back, as he left the room, clutching Andie’s backpack.
His words echoed in Dylan’s head as he turned on to Norbrook Road. He glanced at Andie one more time.
“You’re going to be okay, Andie,” Dylan said. “You’ll see…”
The response was a nonchalant grunt.
Five minutes later, Dylan parked the Rav4 in his uncle's driveway. The second it stopped, Andie jumped out, and ran up the path to the kitchen. Samantha was in the kitchen.
“Hey, you’re in time…” Andie blew past her, and ran to her room. “Andie! What’s the matter?”
Andie responded by slamming her bedroom door so hard the house shook.
Samantha was in shock. She was even more surprised to see Dylan come in. “Dylan…what the dickens…did Andie wreck my car?”
“Nathan wrecked her!” Dylan explained.
“What!” Samantha put down the knife she was holding. “What happened?”
She poured him a glass of juice, while he explained his understanding of what had taken place earlier in the day.
“That reprobate!” Samantha’s hazel eyes turned to green, as they did when she became angry. “I knew he and that Jeremy Malcolm were up to something! When I get my hands on both of them…”
Dylan sipped his juice, deep in thought. “This is unlike Nathan,” he said. “I mean, yeah, he has a bit of a reputation, but… I bet my life that this is Jeremy’s handiwork. He is big and dumb and idle enough to plan something like this!”
“Nathan didn’t have to go along with it!” Samantha pointed out. “And if Jeremy told him to jump off a cliff, would he?”
“Given the history those two had at Cornwall, he would!” Dylan said wryly. “That fool could never resist a dare.”
Samantha began to pace the room. She was livid at the thought of her little sister upset and heartbroken, all because of stupid, immature, twenty year old boys. “I knew they were up to something. Jeremy told me weeks ago that Nathan was messing with Andie… But then I asked Micah, and he said…” She shook her head. “Damn! It’s a conspiracy. They were all in on the little game – even Micah!” She sighed. She had really thought Micah was more mature than that. Clearly, twenty-three year old boys were just as bad as twenty-year-old ones. Then at what age did they finally grow up? “Why are boys so stupid, Dylan?”
“Not all of them,” Dylan clarified. “You would never see me involved in this damn foolishness!” He drained his glass. “Let me call Darrin to come for me.”
“I’ll take you,” Samantha offered.
“What about Andie?”
“I think we’d better leave her alone for a while,” Samantha said. “Maybe she just needs to have a good cry.”
Andie did not emerge from her bedroom for the rest of the day. She sat in her window seat all afternoon, looking out into nothingness. She wished she could stop crying, but every time she did, she remember what Jeremy said to her, and her eyes would start tearing again. She was a random puppet in the boys’ sick puppet show. Nathan didn’t even want her in particular. He would have preferred Samantha. She just raised the odds a bit. She was just an instrument to prove a point.
Afternoon turned into evening, and then it was nightfall. Andie still did not move a muscle. Samantha had come up earlier with a bowl of ch
icken noodle soup that Andie was sure came straight from a can, since, as far as she knew, her sister did not know how to make soup. The soup remained untouched. She was not hungry. She closed her eyes and wished that when she opened them again, she would realise that the entire day had been a bad dream. Nathan would once more be the Nathan she knew, and the Nathan she loved. Her wish was not granted.
Someone knocked on her bedroom door. It was her mother.
“Andie…?” Mrs Persaud pushed the door open. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she saw Andie sitting in her window seat, hugging a pillow. She was surrounded by a pile of tissues. “Hey baby. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Andie turned away. Her mother sat next to her. She smoothed Andie’s hair away from her forehead. "Samantha told me what happened...”
Andie still not respond, as tears continued to stream down her face. Mrs Persaud got a fresh tissue and dabbed her face. She pulled Andie into her arms and hugged her.
“I'm so sorry sweetie…”
“How could he do this to me, Mommy?” Andie sobbed, burying her head in her mother’s shoulder. “He told me he loved me, and I believed him. I feel like such an idiot!”
“You’re not an idiot!” Mrs Persaud told her. “I would have believed him, too. But I have one question. Did he win the bet?”
“No!” Andie’s voice sounded muffled.
Her mother pulled away, and took Andie’s face into her hands, looking into the brown eyes that were red and swollen from hours of crying. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Andie retorted. “Nathan didn’t win his stupid bet!”
Mrs Persaud smiled and hugged her again. “I am so proud of you, honey!”
Andie cried harder. If only her mother knew how close Nathan had come to winning the bet -- twice. What Andie could not understand was why Nathan reneged on both instances. The practical part of her told her the truth – he was so repulsed by her that when the pedal touched the metal, he could not go through with it. And he had pacified her with that load of bull about ‘the longer the wait, the greater the gratification’, and about wanting them to be married first.
“It hurts so bad!” Andie wept. “He broke my heart!”
“I know!” Mrs Persaud comforted her. “Cry all you want now. You’ll feel better…”
“I should have known!” Andie’s tears were all over her mother’s shirt. “I should have known that a guy like Nathan could never really like me. He is just so cool and cute and popular… All the girls wanted him. He could have any of them… I was just so desperate to feel pretty and special that I deluded myself into thinking he would actually like me. I was so stupid to fall for the first idiot who came my way…”
“Listen to me - you are absolutely beautiful and you are absolutely special!” Her mother told her. “And you are not an idiot. You didn’t need Nathan or any guy to tell you that. Any boy would be lucky to have you as his girlfriend. You have to believe it, Andie. If you don’t think you’re great, no one will!”
Andie did not comment. She did not believe what her mother said. The confidence that she had gained over the past eight weeks had disappeared in what was probably an eight-minute conversation with Jeremy. She rested her head in her mother’s lap, feeling comforted as she stroked her hair.
“This too will pass!” Mrs Persaud promised. “Just wait and see.”
***
Thursday morning, week 9
Nathan was not listening to a word Dr Persaud was saying. He knew the lecture was on transaction exposure, but he could not force himself to focus.
“What is the most common example of a situation under which transaction exposure will arise? Nathan?”
He snapped to attention. “Huh… I mean, what was that, Dr Persaud?”
“We are looking at the fact that transaction exposure measures the gains or losses that arise from the settlement of existing financial obligations, whose terms are stated in a foreign currency.” Dr Persaud repeated. “Tell me what is the most common example of a situation under which such transaction exposures will arise.”
“I – I – I …” He stuttered.
“The most common example of the transaction exposure comes about when a firm has a receivable or a payable in a foreign currency,” Dr Persaud said. He turned to the whiteboard, and began putting a diagram up. “In fact, the diagram on the board will highlight how this exposure is born. Now suppose an American company sells ‘widgets’ to a company in Japan for 15 million yen, and payment is expected in 90 days. The transaction exposure arises if in the next 90 days there is an appreciation or depreciation in the value of the yen vis-à-vis the dollar.
“How, then, would the American company avoid the transaction exposure? Nathan?”
Nathan looked at his lecturer, drawing a blank. He tried to look at his notes, but there was nothing there to help him answer the question.
“I…”
Dr Persaud sighed. “Can someone who is actually prepared for this class provide Mr Hansen and myself with the answer?” A few hands went up. “Go ahead, Micah.”
“The risk could have been avoided by invoicing the Japanese buyer in American dollars,” Micah said.
“That is correct,” Dr Persaud said. He was standing directly over Nathan. “Although it is interesting to note that if the Japanese company agreed to buy in dollars, transaction exposure is not eliminated. If Mr Hansen here had done his reading, or was even paying attention, I’m sure he would agree that the exposure would just simply be transferred to the Japanese company, whose dollar account payable has an unknown cost in yen 90 days from today.”
Nathan squirmed under the pointed glare that Dr Persaud gave him. He knew he should be paying attention, but all he could think of was Andie, and the hurt look on her face. He recalled how he had made her cry, how he had tried to hold her, and how she had pushed him away. He remembered how she had screamed at him, and told him she hated him. He loved her. That was the ironic thing. He loved her so much, but had succeeded in hurting her so badly.
He sighed and adjusted himself in his seat. His grandfather had been right. Twenty-year old boys had no business falling in love. They only messed everything up.
Someone nudged him. It was Micah.
“Pay attention, nuh boss!” He hissed. “You want Dr Persaud to come over here again?”
Nathan shifted his attention back to the lecture in time to hear Dr Persaud say, “That’s it for today. We’ll pick up next class with the methods of managing transaction exposure, and that will be our final lecture for the semester. Please prepare by reading up contractual, financial, and operating hedges. The results from last week’s in course test are at the Econ office. Have a good weekend.” He looked at Nathan. “Stay behind, Nathan. We need to talk.”
Nathan’s heart sunk. He expected Dr Persaud wanted to talk to him about Andie. He waited until everyone had left the lecture theatre before going up to him.
“I’m sorry I was distracted today, Dr Persaud…” He began.
Dr Persaud did not look at him. He was going through some papers in his folder. “Did I say you could speak?”
“No, sir,” Nathan whispered.
“Sit down there, Nathan!” Dr Persaud motioned to the seat nearest the front of the theatre. Nathan sat.
“Do you know what this is?” He held up a script. “This is your in-course test paper. You scored nine out of twenty!”
Nathan looked at his toes.
“Nine!” Dr Persaud repeated. “You have moved in two months from a twenty out of twenty to a nine out of twenty? What the hell has gone missing with you, Nathan?”
“I don’t know, Dr Persaud,” Nathan was obviously shaken. A nine out of twenty would drag his International Economics grade way down, not to mention his GPA, and his chances for the Economics scholarship he was depending on for graduate sch
ool.
Dr Persaud expressed his thoughts. “You cannot get grades like this. You have a scholarship to maintain, and graduate school to look forward to… You are still carrying an A average for International Economics – albeit a very low A -- now. You are going to have to do better for the final – much, much better, so whatever it is that is bothering you, get over it!”
“Yes, Dr Persaud,” Nathan mumbled. He never dreamed that he would ever have such a conversation with a lecturer, particularly his favourite one. He got up to leave.
“Sit down. I’m not done with you!” Dr Persaud took a deep breath. “You have something else that you need to fix apart from your Econ grade. When I left my daughter and went to Germany, I left a smiling, happy girl – much happier than I had ever recalled seeing her in all her life. I come back five days later to find a strange shadow of who used to be my child. She has been crying every day, she’s not eating, she’s not talking, and I don’t know what is wrong with her. I assume, and I know I have done so correctly, that you have done something to her!”
“Dr Persaud I…” Nathan began, but Dr Persaud cut him off.
“I don’t know what it is. I have asked her, and she will not tell me. But I know that her sister knows, and her cousins know, and I think – I think her mother knows.”
“Dr Persaud…” Nathan tried again.
“I don’t want you to speak right now!” Dr Persaud’s brown eyes were flashing with anger. Nathan recalled the same glare when Dylan had accosted him. “Do you know what I want you to do? I want you to fix my daughter. Whatever you did, undo it, and undo it fast before I find out what you did in the first place to upset her. And I will find out, Nathan. I have strange powers. I can break down four teenaged girls, twin boys, and my wife in no time, so you better get started!”
“I’ve tried…” Nathan began.
“Try harder!” Dr Persaud barked.
“Yes sir.”
Dr Persaud looked down on Nathan. He was sitting, looking very red in the face, and defeated. He looked as depressed and as sad as Andie did. Dr Persaud had come back from Germany on Tuesday to find a sullen and dejected Andie. He had tried to talk to her, and to find out what was wrong, but she would not tell him. After Nathan’s fourth phone call that she had refused to take, Dr Persaud deduced that she and Nathan had quarrelled. Samantha, Andie and their mother spoke in hushed tones in Andie’s bedroom at nights. He asked his wife what had happened, but all she told him was that Andie would be fine. Dr Persaud was not convinced. His little girl was looking more and more distressed every day, and here was Nathan, his best student, not concentrating in class, and getting pretty close to a failing grade on a test. As a concerned father, he wished someone – anyone would tell him what was going on.
