The Babysitters

Chapter 7 : Guilt

When I was three years old, a boy in my neighborhood had a crush on me. One day, he bought me muffins to eat. When my dad came to know about it, he was so furious that he made a crime report in the local FBI against him for 'poisoning his daughter.'

Since that day, American police has stopped taking my family seriously.

And, did I mention that the boy and his family were so dashed by this that they changed their house the next day?

This incident is one of the reasons why I hate talking about boys to my dad. Still, here we are discussing Trystan.

"So, you share this job with a boy who is of your age?" Dad narrowed his eyes.

"Yes dad," I sighed.

"Nope! Not at all," he stated sternly, "I cannot risk my daughter doing a job with a guy who is young and definitely has no control over his hormones."

I rolled my eyes, "And, how do you know that?"

"I was a young boy too. Well, I am still young but no more a boy," he stated proudly.

"Firstly, you are 45 dad, you are not young. And secondly, I am a black belt. So you don't need to worry about Trystan's hormones," I rolled my eyes.

"OK, I am totally going to ignore the part where you implied me being old," he muttered.

"Can I continue the job then?" I asked with a pout.

"You can, if you give me one strong reason about why do you actually need a job?" he raised his brow.

I sighed. It's hard to put the reason in words. What should I say? I want to get away from the demons of my past? I need a distraction? I don't want to face my own mother? It was just too hard to explain.

So, I remained silent.

"Fine," Dad took a deep breath, "You can do the job. But if that Troy tries to make a move on you, remind him that I have a revolver."

"Thank you, daddy boo," I squeezed him in a hug, and rushed out of the house to reach Dylan's place.

"By the way, his name is Trystan," I shouted, before closing the door behind me.

I could imagine dad giving a 'Like I care' look.

Dylan lives three blocks away from my house, so I decided to have a walk. It took me fifteen minutes to reach my destination.

The first thing I heard as I reached there was a high pitched cry.

"C'mon, she made you the same thing," Trystan whined, not aware of my presence.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, walking towards Trystan and Tiffany.

"Here you are," he took a deep sigh of relief as soon as he saw me.

"I don't know. She has been crying since forever. I even made lukewarm milk for her, just like you did," Trystan pouted.

I took Tiffany from his hands and wrapped her in her blanket. She immediately stopped crying.

"Shh... get some sleep, mollycoddle," I cooed, slowly patting her chest.

"She was feeling sleepy," I told Trystan, who was looking at me with amusement.

"How do you do it?" he asked.

"I took baby classes in my junior year," I shrugged off and started looking around for a familiar uni boy.

"Lover boy is at work," Trystan said, coldly.

"Uh, okay," I started playing with the hem of Tiffany's blanket.