Attitude Adjustment

2 My First Time

On Saturday, I show up ready.

I've watched all the deep cleaning tutorials and studied the rules. I've brought an all-purpose cleaning spray with me, along with dish soap, vinegar, sponges, gloves.

I enter his house like I'm walking into a battlefield. One that I've already won, because how hard can this be?

Right???

Wrong.

I start with the kitchen, since the online lady informed me it would take the longest.

The online lady was indeed correct...but that bitch lied about everything else.

When I wipe the stainless steel oven, it doesn't become spotless. No. It leaves streaks.

No matter how many times I spray and wipe, the streaks keep coming back, and I swear, they get worse each and every time.

Why? What have I done to them? Why won't they leave me alone?

Fuck you, streaks. Fuck. You.

I flip them off and move on.

I cough out a lung when shaking Hayden's bed sheets. I burn my eyes from the chemicals when scrubbing his bath tub. I inhale enough poison to guarantee my death by the age of thirty and I permanently damage my back.

At least I get a decent workout out of it.

And another perk, when I'm cleaning Hayden's bathroom, I get a little nosy and smell-test his colognes. He has two kinds. I assume one is for daytime and the other for nighttime.

The nighttime cologne...should be illegal. When I get a boyfriend, I'm going to buy him this exact cologne. If he doesn't wear it whenever he's around me, I'm going to break up with him.

It's simply a seduction in a bottle. A baby maker. A knee-buckling, dangerous weapon.

I work relentlessly, obsessively, without a pause. But unfortunately, Hayden was right.

I underestimated this job.

It's difficult. It's full of unexpected errors. It's not as smooth as they show in the videos. And it is definitely not the same as cleaning a bedroom.

Time is racing against me, and I find myself checking it frantically every few minutes, dreading the fact that I'm nowhere near done.

The worst part?

Hayden comes home an hour early.

I was supposed to be out of here before he got back. Otherwise, I would never wear what I'm wearing right now.

He opens the front door just as I shove the vacuum in the closet and stops in his tracks.

"Uh, hi," I say nervously. "Sorry, I'm still here."

His gaze lowers over me.

I tug my black cotton shorts down a little, but it only exposes my waist even more in my cropped, tank top. "W-why'd you come so early?"

"It's your first time." He grumbles, looking away and shuts the door behind him.

I'm overthinking it. He probably couldn't care less that I'm half-naked. With his looks, he's probably been with gorgeous women. I look and smell like a sweating ballsack right now.

"You finished?" He heads into the kitchen to inspect my work.

I follow him, nervous but excited.

Hayden reminds me of my strict professors. The ones that everyone hates. They're my favorite. When they see your persistence, they can't help but love you. It's the most rewarding thing ever.