As Long As You're Mine

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Elle

Yup. It’s official. I’m having one of those “rich girl” moments. I haven’t had one in a while, say since I was six maybe? I asked my mom for a unicorn, and she said I couldn’t get one. At the time, I didn’t know why. I cried for days, and complained, not understanding the logic in her irrational answer. Right now, I’m having one of those times again.

My parents are forcing me to work. That word. Yuck. I know the meaning and context in which it is generally used, I just hate applying it. I’ve never actually “worked” before. I’ve never had a job or the need to have a job. In high school, I got good grades- great grades even –which left me exempt from all other expectations in life. When I want something, I ask for it, and usually receive it. I get what I want.

Two days ago, my mom called me and said that I had to work. I asked why, to which she replied, “So you have a good sense of what effort, and the phrase ‘hard working’ means.” I was not happy. I’m a very motivated, energized person, and I do consider myself “hard working”; why she’s making me actually perform manual labor is beyond me.

Then, she told me that I had the option between waitressing and babysitting. I chose the kids. She said that she had a friend who lived by us, and that she had three kids, and needed a good babysitter. Why she recommended me is also beyond my comprehension level.

I’ve never really dealt with kids. I’m the youngest in my family and in my extended family for the most part. In my life, there has been no need to interact with children. I don’t not like them, it’s just I’ve never had the chance to be with them. Apparently, I have a wonderful intuition about the insights of kids- well, according to my mother at least.

Ugh! I just really don’t want to have to run around some stranger’s house like a maniac chasing after kids I don’t even know just because my mom’s trying to teach me a lesson or something! It’s not fair. I think this incident might even be more unjust than not getting a unicorn…

I knocked on the door, anticipating a strict business type lady to open up, set me up with the kids, and whiz by. Instead, I was greeted by a muffled masculine voice, “Who is it?”

“The babysitter,” I said to the person on the other side of closed door.

“One sec!” he yelled. I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for him to open the door.

“Hi! I’m-” he started, creaking the door open for me.

“Blake?” I finished for him, surprised.

“Elle! Hey! Whoa! So you’re the babysitter?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah… Can I come in?”

“Oh, um… sure!” he smiled, stepping aside, and allowing me entrance.

“So, how do you know Meredith?” I sighed, referring to the person I had expected to welcome me.

“She’s my sister,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

“And you?”

“I apparently am the babysitter,” I said, still unhappy about the position I was in. I can work after I’m done with grad-school, and have my doctorate or law degree. I don’t need a job now! This is stupid, and a waste of my time!

“If I knew my sister was going to hire someone as cute as you, I’d definitely volunteer for this job more often,” he laughed, smiling at me.

“What job?” I questioned, covering my mouth to stifle a yawn.