Chapter 7: The Bet *Guest

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Chapter 5 *Guest*

~Drake

“Drake,” says my mom, as she settles our breakfast on the table. “How’s school?”

“Good,” I say automatically.

Driana snorts.

I kick her under the table which earns me a glare from her.

“You know,” my mom says, ignoring us, “If you’re having a hard time, you can ask Andre for help.”

“I know,” I mutter.

Andre is intelligent. He may be lazy in studying but when he does, he can get a perfect score.

My mom looks at me expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, I ask her, “What do you want me to do?”

“You can stay at their house this weekend and let him tutor you.”

At the word tutor, my mind thinks of Sophia. If she can tutor me this weekend, we’ll get close to each other and then the month will just be a week. And then I’m finally free with the bet.

“Okay,” I tell my mom. “I’ll ask Andre.”

“Call him now,” My twin sister says.

If I know, she just wants the whole house to herself. No wonder my mom doesn’t offer Driana’s help, we might end up killing each other.

“That’s a good idea,” my mom chimes in.

Shaking my head, I dial Andre’s number.

“Hey,” he answers at the third ring.

“Can I stay at your house this weekend?” I ask, direct to the point.

“Sure,” he says, not even thinking about it.

“What about your mom?”

“Of course, she won't mind," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay then,” I say, “See you at school.”

“Satisfied?” I ask my mom and Driana after I hung up.

Driana’s mouth curves into a smile. My mom looks at me, a concern expression on her face. I know she’s worried about my future, but I can take care of it.

“I’m going to pack,” I say, and walk to my room.

After school, I’ll go directly to Andre’s house. Can I really study there? When Andre and I are together, we just have fun. And studying is not in our fun list.

~*~*~*~*~

“Have you seen Sophia?” I ask.

“I haven’t seen her,” my best friend, Andre, answers. “If you ask me that question again, I’ll punch you,” he threatens playfully.

“What?” I ask, turning to glare at him.

“You asked me that question for almost ten times already!”

“And you’re really counting,” I say dryly.

The cafeteria isn’t crowded today because it’s Friday. Students usually pick this day to absent to have an early weekend.

“Don’t tell me you already missed her,” he teases. “You just saw her yesterday and you’re going to see her after a few--”

“Are you kidding?” I ask, cutting him off. Why would I miss her?

~*~*~*~*~

Come on, why aren’t you here? Just one more minute, the bell will ring already! A few seconds later, the bell rings and then Ma’am Coelho closes the door.

I wonder why Sophia is absent.

Why do you care? As if you’re close to her. As a matter of fact, you just had you first conversation with her yesterday.

I thought that maybe when I read the play beforehand, I can impress her. But what if she’ll tell me I don’t need a tutor anymore when I already understand it?

“Did you meet with Sophia yesterday?” Mrs. Coelho asks me, breaking me from my reverie.

”Yes Ma’am,” I say politely.

“Good. Continue it then.”

I give her a nod and resume reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I find myself staring at the door, but of course, she will not come anymore. It’s already thirty minutes after the class started.

How can I ask her to meet me tomorrow? She’s absent today. I don’t have her phone number. But I know someone who has. Driana. Right. I’m going to ask Sophia’s number to her later. The plan is, tomorrow, we’re going to watch a movie together, just the two of us, and then eat. Maybe (I hope) we’ll talk to get to know each other. The thing is what if she will not agree? What if she already has a plan for tomorrow? What if she doesn’t want to be with me? That’s a big problem! How can I win the bet if that happens? Don’t you just hate What If’s?

~*~*~*~*~

“Why did you just tell me now?" I ask irritably.

After school, Andre and I went directly to his house, and now we’re in his room. I’m sprawled on his bed while he’s using his laptop on his desk.

“I forgot," he says sheepishly.

“You forgot that a girl is going to stay in your house?” I say incredulously. “Are you that stupid?”

“It’s no big deal, idiot,” he mutters.

Andre just told me a while ago that a daughter of his mom’s friend is going to stay here for a couple of days due to a family problem. She’s a senior student like us, studying in our school. Andre is pretty stupid. Why did he agree to let me stay in their house if they already have a guest? What did he thought of their house, a dorm?

“What’s her name?” I ask.

“I don’t know!” He scratches his head, as if he doesn’t really care. He can be oblivious with what’s happening around him.

“Maybe my staying here is not a good idea,” I say.

“I told you, my mom won’t mind! You’re like, family to us.”

“I’ll leave you with the mysterious girl all to yourself.”

“Oh come on,” he mutters. “I already like someone.”

I shake my head at him, and then remember what he said. “You like someone?”

“I, uh, yes,” he answers, averting his eyes.

That’s news. Since I asked him to break up with Mindy, he hasn’t liked someone again. Or so I thought.

“Who is she?” I ask, curiosity is clearly in my voice.

When he doesn’t respond, and pretends to be busy searching pictures for his History assignment, I repeat the question. It’s Friday, so why is he doing the assignment already?

“It’s nothing serious, really,” he says. “It’s just a crush.”

“So why won’t you tell me?”

He makes a point of looking at the wall clock and says, “Our guest will arrive in a couple of minutes.” And then he stands up. “I’m going to take a bath.” He hurries to walk to his bathroom. But before he can get out of the room, I pick a pillow and throw it at his retreating figure. He’s pretty fast, before it hits his head; he slaps it back towards me, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

Not telling me who his crush is makes me more curious. Why won’t he tell me? Maybe I know her. Andre can be secretive when he wants.

The sound of the doorbell breaks me from my thoughts.

“Andre!” I yell. “Your guest is here.”

“Let them in.” I can hear the shower turning off. “I’m not done.”

“Why would I?” I ask incredulously.

“What do you want them to do, stand outside the door? Idiot.”

“Stupid,” I retort. ”Faster!”

Hastily, I make my way towards the living room. This is not even my house so why am I the one opening the door? Yeah, I forgot, I’m going to stay here this weekend to improve my studies.

When I open the door, a woman appears in my line of sight.

“Hello," the woman says. "Is Andre here?"

I thought the guest was a girl! How can this woman be a senior student? She looks like more or less forty years old. Maybe I am wrong. She doesn’t have a bag with her. Maybe she’s just a family relative.

“I’m Drake, Andre’s friend,” I say. “Andre is taking a bath right now.”

The woman gives me a smile. “I’m Emily. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I mumble. There’s something familiar about Emily, like I’ve seen her before but I don’t remember how. “Come in,” I say, opening the door widely so she can enter.

“I’ll just call my daughter,” she says and walks toward the car, which I just notice now, parked in the driveway.

So, there’s a girl . .

The passenger door of the red Mercedes Benz opens and the girl gets out of it. When she looks at me, time stops. I find myself staring at her, wide eyes with shock, mouth hanging open. She has a confused expression on her face, and then she looks between me and her mom.

Finally, I find my voice and ask her, “What are you doing here?” I already have an idea but I want to hear it directly from her.

“What are you doing here?” She says incredulously, as if I am the last person she expects to see here.

Don’t you hate it when you ask someone a question and they ask you that question too?

Emily beams at us. “You know each other!”

“Yes,” Sophia and I say simultaneously without taking our eyes off each other.

“That’s great!” Emily grins. She takes something out the backseat. A luggage bag. That only means one thing.

As a sign of courteousy, I take the bag out of Emily’s hand. As we enter the house, Andre walks down the hall, bouncing like a ball with a wet hair. When he sees Sophia, he stops in his tracks and gives me a knowing smile.

Did he know it before, or is he just as surprised as I am? He can conceal his expression, I know. But I think he won’t keep it a secret to me.

“Welcome to our home,” he says, grinning broadly. “Enjoy your stay here, Sophia!”