Lucky T (15 page)

Raj jumped down from the flatbed, his sandals kicking up a cloud of dust. "Listen, Dee may be wound a little tightly, but he's not all bad to have around.

He's a good guy. Kept me out of more trouble than I care to divulge," he added with a wink. "It's just sometimes he lets his whole I'm-so-moral thing get the better of him. If you stick it out here, I bet he'll grow on you."

Carrie looked back at the CCS building. "I don't know. He seemed pretty serious about wanting me gone."

"Well, before you two fought, he seemed pretty serious about wanting to get to know you," Raj said with a shrug. "The afternoon before you came, all he could do was keep asking me what I thought of you."

Carrie's flush deepened. "What did you say?"

"I said you seemed like a fickle American girl," Raj joked, grinning.

Carrie whacked his shoulder and Raj laughed, walking over to the driver's side door. "So are you going or staying?" he asked.

There was no way Carrie could sort out the tangled ball of emotions she felt at that moment. Two seconds ago she thought Dee hated her, but from what Raj had said, it wasn't that black and white. Did he really feel bad about shouting at her last night? If so, she might be able to forgive him, especially considering he had been right about a few things. Part of her didn't want to stay and deal with him, but a bigger part of her wanted to find out if something was there--if there was any salvaging that initial attraction she had felt for him yesterday. And part of her had already gotten attached to those little girls. And she really didn't want to go back to Help India with her tail between her legs.

As she stood on the street, contemplating her fate, Carrie heard a sudden shout, followed by a round of laughter. There, at the back of the yard, were half a dozen kids, throwing a basketball haphazardly toward a net-less hoop. One of them ran to pick up the ball and dribbled it clumsily back toward his friends. It hit his toe and bounced off, smacking one of the girls on the knee.

Something stirred inside Carrie's chest--a familiar twinge of excitement. The backboard and hoop looked like home to her. The kids running and jumping and slapping the ball away from one another suddenly looked like potential best friends. When was the last time she had touched a basketball ?

When was the last time she had even exercised?

Carrie turned and grinned at Raj over her shoulder. "I think I'm staying."

Raj laughed and came around again to help her pul her things down. "You sure this time?"

"Hey, from here on out you can call me Carrie the Fickle," Carrie said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Thanks, Raj."

"Like I said, anything you need here in Calcutta, I'm your man," he replied with a smile. Then he hopped into the truck and took off.

"Well," Carrie said to herself. "Here goes nothing."

The last thing she wanted to do was go back through the building and risk bumping into Dee, so instead she made her way around the corner, looking for a break in the fence. Toward the back, right near the basketball hoop, was a gate with a meager latch. Carrie popped it open with her elbow and made it through with all her bags. The boys and girls stopped playing and looked at her curiously as she dropped her stuff.

"Al right," Carrie said, clapping. "Who wants to really learn how to shoot?"

"I do!" Trina announced, running up to her.

For the first time Carrie realized how tall the girl actually was. She had at least a head on most of the boys around her and she looked stronger, too.

"How old are you guys?" Carrie asked.

"I am twelve years old," Trina said.

"I'm eleven!" Manisha announced, walking over. "And I want to shoot too."

"Girls can't shoot," the tallest boy of the bunch said. He was holding the ball to his side in the crook of his arm and looking at her as if he were some kind of basketball god and she were just an amateur. There was nothing Carrie loved more than a challenge.

"Oh, yeah?" she said, strutting up to him. She held out her hands and, looking dubious, he handed the ball to her. Carrie turned and without so much as a pause shot the ball . It swooshed right through the hoop.

Two points, she thought with a grin. The boys all whooped and laughed while Trina and Manisha stuck their tongues out at the tall, cocky boy. The ball hit the ground and bounced off toward the fence as Carrie gave her audience a little bow.

"You guys want to do that?" she asked them.

"Yeah!" a couple of kids yelled.

"Great," Carrie said with a grin, retrieving the ball . "Let's get to work."

As the game wore on, Carrie took a step back to admire the kids' progress. It was unbelievable, actually. Just a couple of hours ago they had been the most pathetic lot of players she had ever come across. And now . . . wel , they weren't perfect, but there had been a drastic improvement. On an impulse she went to her backpack and fished out her camera. She hadn't taken many pictures since arriving in India because she had been so busy and overwhelmed. This game, however, was totally photo worthy.

Carrie squeezed off a few shots, catching Dash, the cocky boy, as he went for a layup and Trina as she grabbed the rebound. She was just refocusing her shot when through the viewfinder she saw Dee and an older Indian man step out the back door of the shelter.

Carrie swal owed hard. The moment she had been dreading earlier that morning had arrived--Dee had finally discovered that she hadn't actually left as he had wanted her to. Together he and the light-

skinned, serious- looking man seemed to be examining the proceedings and discussing something grave. Were they talking about her? Was she really going to get in trouble for hanging around?

Turning off her camera and placing it back in her bag, Carrie decided she might as wel take the bul by the horns here. She wasn't going to wait for them to come over and read her the riot act. She would go to them.

Carrie wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans, crossed her fingers, and walked around the basketball court toward the two guys. Dee caught her eye as she approached. For a split second she could have sworn she saw him smile. Was it admiration? Appreciation? Or was it just amusement because he knew she was about to be chucked out on her butt?

"Hi," Carrie said as she reached the door. An ominous grumble of thunder sounded overhead. She waited for Dee to introduce her, but he said nothing. "I'm Carrie," she added.

"Namaste," the man said, placing his palms together and bowing slightly. "It is an honor to meet the basketball star who has been entertaining our children this morning."

Carrie smiled. "Thank you."

"Carrie, this is Lalit Banarjee," Dee said. "He's the director of CCS."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Banarjee," Carrie said. Then, because another brief silence fell, she put her hands together and mimicked the older man's bow.

"Namaste."

Fortunately Mr. Banarjee smiled. "It is always a pleasure to meet a person with such energy. I believe the children are taken with you. Asha is inside with some of the other girls and she has not stopped talking about you all morning."

Carrie blinked. "Real y?"

"She's driving one of our floor monitors, Miss Tara, mad in the arts and crafts room," Dee informed her.

"What's she saying?" Carrie asked.

"Oh, that you are beautiful and smart and have the most lovely hair," Mr. Banarjee said.

Carrie's hand flew instinctively to her ponytail. She couldn't believe anyone would say that about her frizzy mop. She glanced at Dee, who was staring at her, and he quickly looked away.

"We have some investors coming tomorrow," Mr. Banarjee said. "I'd love for them to meet you."

"Uh . . . sure," Carrie said uncertainly. She wasn't even supposed to be here now, let alone tomorrow.

"It is nice to have you aboard, Carrie," Mr. Banarjee said. "You are obviously an asset to CCS."

Carrie's heart twisted as the director smiled and moved off. Part of her wanted to correct him--to let him know that she wasn't sticking around. But he had seemed so sincerely pleased, she just couldn't find the words to do it.

Dee smiled down at her and shook his head, clearly impressed with the praise she had garnered. Carrie smiled back. Could it be that all was forgiven? Maybe Raj had been right and Dee now regretted last night's freak-out. Carrie hoped that was true because at this point she knew she would much rather stay at CCS playing with the kids and getting praised than hammering at a wall and getting dirty looks.

"I thought you were leaving," Dee said finally, attempting to contain the smile.

Carrie looked at him uncertainly, trying to discern what he was thinking. Did he want her to leave or did he want her to stay? His words and his body language-- arms crossed over his chest again--seemed to say the former. But his smile and his eyes . . . they seemed to say the latter. It was nearly impossible to tell . Carrie had no experience with mysterious guys. Jason had been easier to read than a Captain Underpants book.

"Miss Carrie! Watch this!"

Carrie and Dee turned to see a tall, gangly boy named Akhtar shoot a perfect three-pointer from almost half-court. Everyone on his team cheered as Dash picked up the ball and dribbled it back. Then Akhtar did some sort of celebration dance that seemed like a cross between break dancing and the hokeypokey.

"Sweet!" Carrie shouted.

"Come on, Carrie!" a smaller boy named Shiva called out, running over to grab her hand. "The team of Akhtar is kicking the butt of the team of Dash."

Dee and Carrie both laughed.

"Maybe tomorrow," she said over her shoulder to Dee as Shiva dragged her away. At that moment there was no rush. Carrie was right where she wanted to be, and as she played with these kids, her lucky T was pretty far from her mind.

-**

The next day Carrie handled some crisis situations around CCS. There was a big water pipe fiasco first thing in the morning, and Carrie led the other floor monitors in the quest to prevent the entire facility from flooding. Mission accomplished. In the afternoon the movie projector ate the second reel of Lassie, so Carrie put on a shadow puppet show that had the kids roaring with laughter. Then Mr. Banarjee cornered her and told her how much she impressed the investors, who had been around all day to witness her quick thinking. He thanked her so profusely that Carrie couldn't possibly even think about deserting the guy and the rest of the staff. If Dee wanted her to leave, he'd have to take it up with all of them.

Speaking of which, later that evening Carrie was on her way upstairs to tuck in the girls when Dee emerged from Mr. Banarjee's office holding a box wrapped in brown paper. A skitter of excitement raced through Carrie as she paused on the third stair. This guy even looked amazing in 200 percent humidity.

"This came for you today," Dee said, holding a medium-size box in his Shaquile-O'Neal-size hands. "I thought I would wait and give it to you tonight so that you would have time to open it."

She would recognize that box anywhere. Her mother sent her one just like it every summer when she was at Sunny Bunny.

"Thanks," Carrie said, barely able to contain the urge to rip it open right there. Hooray for care packages!

"Do you have a minute?" Dee asked, putting the box underneath his perfectly toned right arm.

"Sure, what's up?" Carrie replied coolly. She was trying to act aloof because of how badly Dee had treated her, but it was pretty difficult, considering that she really wanted to grab him and nibble on his left earlobe.

"I want to apologize about blowing up day before yesterday. I really don't know what came over me. Sometimes my temper gets a bit out of control and I say a bunch of stuff I don't really mean. Does that ever happen to you?"

Carrie smiled knowingly. "Yeah, once in a while."

"Anyway, I feel as if I jumped to conclusions about you and that was very unfair. Maybe I can get to know you really wel and then judge you?" he smiled with the last part.

"We'll see what happens," Carrie said matching his smile.

She reached out to take the package into her hands, but Dee playfully pulled it away.

"Nope, I'm not handing it over until you tell me I'm forgiven," Dee said with a sly smirk.

Carrie laughed again. "So you're holding my mail hostage? That's supposed to be an incentive?"

"Who knows what could be in here? Maybe a mil ion dol ars. Perhaps a month's supply of candy," Dee said while giving the box a few shakes and listening to the contents shuffle around.

"Okay, okay. You're forgiven," she said in submission. "Now hand it over."

Dee moved up to the stair below her so that they were at eye level. Carrie could see the flecks of brown in his hazel irises. Dee put the package in her hands, his fingers gliding against her skin very slowly. They both stood there for a few seconds, completely motionless. Then Carrie broke out of her trance.

"I better go," she said softly. "I have to kiss some little girls good night."

As Carrie scampered up the stairs, she thought of one hundred different ways she'd like to get to know Dee, and all of them involved lip-to-lip contact.

About a half hour later, when Carrie turned off the lights in the ward and stole back to her room, she realized she hadn't thought about her shirt once today. She sat down cross-legged on her bed. As quietly as possible, she tore open the brown paper wrapped around the box. Inside she found one of the small white crates her mother always received her fruit-of-the-month in and she grinned. Her mom had packed a bunch of stuff in there-- half a dozen granola bars, a few bags of trail mix, two editions of Shape magazine, some samples of organic makeup and skin care products, a book about superstitions and phobias (ha!), a small package wrapped in colorful birthday paper, and two envelopes. The first was unmarked. The second had Carrie's name written on the front--in Piper's loopy handwriting.

Carrie's heart seized up at the sight of the familiar script. Piper!

With a shaking hand, Carrie placed Piper's letter aside and opened the other envelope. She was praying that it wasn't from Jason because then she might combust before getting to ride off into the sunset on a camel with His Majesty, the prince of some yet to be determined island country, Dee.