From the voice, Sandy guessed that he was a teenage boy. She was about to look back when the boy added, "Don't turn."
Sandy sat back down. "Yeah, I'm Sandy."
"So, what do you want?" he asked in a soft voice.
"I'd like to make a bet on the Games next week," Sandy told him.
"What class and game are you betting on?"
"Class 9-B will win at basketball."
"Are you talking about an individual match or the whole tournament?"
"The whole tournament."
"So you're betting that 9-B will be the freshman basketball champion?"
"Yes," Sandy confirmed.
There was a minute of silence.
Then the boy whispered again, "It's 4-to-1 odds."
"Okay," Sandy agreed. She would get four times her allowance!
"How much will you bet?"
Sandy took out her wallet. She removed the two slips of currency that were her entire allowance and held them up.
"What's this?" the boy asked.
"My bet." Was something wrong?
"That's not how we do things here."
"What do you mean?" Sandy twisted in her seat.
"Don't look," the boy reminded her.
Sandy eased herself back into her seat.
"We don't bet that kind of money."
Sandy was confused. "Then what do you bet?"
"Coins."
"Coins?" Sandy repeated incredulously. That tiny amount of money!? "You can't make much money out of that."
"That's the point," the boy said, "Gambling's supposed to be about fun, not about making money."
"Huh?"
"Look, if you bet a lot of money, you could lose a lot of money. Then you'll gamble more to win back the money you lost. But if you lose again, you'll end up even poorer. Then you borrow money to win back what you lost. But you may lose again. You may end up deeper and deeper in debt.
"Furthermore," the boy lectured on, "If a large amount of money is involved in betting, there's going to be some serious match-fixing and that affects the integrity of the sports.
"Turning betting on the Games into a money-making venture sucks the fun out of it," the boy concluded.
"I see..." Sandy uttered as she tried to make sense out of everything she had just been told. Betting was not for profit? Not for money? Then what was the point!? Was it really for fun?
"So, how much will you bet?" the boy asked again.
Sandy replaced her allowance in her wallet. Then she looked into her wallet's purse and pulled out the biggest coin she had. She held the coin up.
The boy plucked the coin from her fingers. "Okay," he approved, "Give me a moment..." A minute later, he tapped a piece of paper on her shoulder. "Here's your betting slip. Pleasure doing business with you. Wait there for a minute before you leave."
Sandy sat silently as the boy departed.
Well, that had been a disappointment. Instead of all the money she had hoped to win, she would only get enough for a cup of something hot from the cafeteria.
It was better than nothing, but that was not going to cheer her much. Sandy felt less enthusiastic about that afternoon's basketball practice.
***
On Monday the following week, though Sandy had lost interest in the Games, she was still very much alarmed to discover that Selina had her right hand in a splint.
"Sorry, I can't play," Selina said, "You'll have to win the game for me."
"What?" Sandy cried, "What happened to you!?"
"Twisted my wrist during the weekend." Selina sighed. "I'm going to have problems writing my homework."
"Forget homework, what about the basketball game!?"
"I can't play."
"Can't you play with your other hand?" Sandy was going to lose her coin! The horror!
"No, I can't," Selina told her firmly, "I can't risk falling and causing even more damage to my wrist."
Suddenly, it was all up to Sandy to lead her team to victory.
Long story short, her team was thrashed out of the competition in the first match against Connie and the girls of 9-C. While Sandy was a better player than Connie, the girls of 9-C were overall the better team. The much better team. Connie was cheerfully encouraging her teammates while 9-B was demoralized by the loss of their star player.
On the other hand, Ariel's volleyball team came in second on Thursday. She spent every free moment the day after bragging of her victory to Sandy and Esper.
***
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