The Bad Boy's Nanny

Ch. 1 - Professional Babysitter

I walk downstairs, suitcase in hand and butterflies in my stomach. In the kitchen, my mom and her boyfriend sit at the table hand-in-hand.

"Are you leaving now?" my mom asks, sipping her coffee and eyeing me with boredom.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Have fun, kiddo," Steve says with his eyes glued to the newspaper.

I roll my eyes at the use of "kiddo" and shoot him a fake smile. "Sure will. Have fun in Alaska."

As what I believe is a celebration for my departure, Steve and my mother planned a trip to Alaska. They're leaving the same day as I start my job. I wouldn't consider it a coincidence.

"We will."

I smile awkwardly. "Well, I'm leaving. So, goodbye?"

"Bye, Ivy," my mom mumbles and stands up from the table. For a split second, I think she's coming to give me a hug. Instead, she puts her empty mug in the sink and starts doing the dishes.

Cool.

"Peace out," Steve says and sticks up his two fingers in the sign of peace.

I mimic him before heading towards the front of the house.

Listen, I love my mom. She's the reason I'm alive after all. We're just not close. It's as simple as that. Now that Steve's in her life, I'm just not as relevant. I don't really take any offense to it. I prefer being ignored, as strange as that may seem.

After trying in the address to the Kennedy house, I begin my journey. To say I'm nervous is an understatement. I've been babysitting ever since my neighbors decided they were the hip couple and wanted to go out on Friday nights.

Considering I was only eight, it probably wasn't the best of ideas to hire me as a babysitter. However, I did one hell of a job with their baby. I only dropped it once-- and that technically wasn't even my fault. I blame the premiere of High School Musical.

Anyway, I'm what people call a "professional babysitter." I've dealt with countless crying babies, stubborn brats, pukers, biters, etcetera. You name it.

But I have never lived with a family for three months. A full-time nanny job wasn't on my to-do list, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. The mother offered me a beautiful amount of money; I almost cried when she gave me the number.

I'm sort of in desperate need for money. Since my mom's writing career is sort of at a stand-still and Steve has just recently been laid-off, it's up to me to pay for college. I got accepted into the school of my dreams, Brown University, earlier this year. Sure, I got a little bit of scholarship money, but not nearly enough to take care of everything.

I don't know too much about this family. I know six of the seven kids are adopted. The mom is a single mom who was always too busy with her work to ever find the right man to father all the children she wanted. At least, that's what my neighbor heard. But she's big on gossip.

Oh, also, the oldest son went to my high school. His name is Elliott. He was in my English class junior year, but I doubt he even remembers my name. He didn't show up to school very often. When he did, he'd be on his phone in the back of the class and usually sent to the principals office. Honestly, I can't remember if he graduated this year with our class.

I really don't know anything about him.

"Your destination is to the right," my GPA speaks as I approach a large brick house with acres of land surrounding it.

"Is this Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt's family?" I ask to myself as I park my car on the curb.

Tugging my suitcase out of the car, I head up the driveway and towards the front door. Before I can even knock, the door swings open and a small Asian boy smile back at me.