Babysitting the Bad Boy's Little Brother

Chapter 9

I get home from watching Alex and lie carelessly on the couch, exhausted. Mentally exhausted, speaking in which, not physically. Austin is messing with my head and last night, the cockiness? What in the world? I know he's undiagnostically bipolar but this just adds t0 the problem as far as it goes. I've never completely understood him anyway, and never intend to. I haven't eaten meat in a while. Thinking about it makes me sick. I've never particularly been fond of grilling or frying it. Just looking at it gives me a reason to cringe. My mom always had thought I was crazy for not wanting to touch or help pull apart chicken or rolling up the hamburger meat. My Aunt and cousins laughed at me. In my opinion, beef looks like intestines and red spaghetti.

I make myself a caesar salad and dice up an avocado, ignoring the mushy feel as I eat it. My breakfast has consisted of pretty much nothing and it's closer to lunch now than breakfast. Man how I miss sleeping in. If life was perfect, which it will not ever be, the sun wouldn't come up until eleven in the morning and no one would wake until then. But, as my Aunt had spoken to me before, the world doesn't revolve around me and my opinions are not the only ones that matter. Both are true, but I don't think I have ever acted that way towards anyone before.

My Aunt's name is Amber. She has not been and still is not the best aunt ever. She's my Mom's other sister. My Mom had two sisters. The other, Carrie, she's great. But, Carrie lives in New York City as a fashion designer for a big company. She has a lot of money. I live in southern California, all the way across the United States. Furthermore, Amber was always jealous of her older sister and envied her for many reasons. She thought my Mom had everything. That was until she died. I guess that is why she hates me. I'm just another like her, or I try my best to be. Mom was my biggest role model as a kid and will always be, living or not. She'll always be alive in my heart, and in Heaven.

New Message: Daniel. Hey, so there is a festival going on at the beach today and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. What do you say? -Daniel.

Wow. Me: Sure, what time?

Daniel: Whenever you are ready. You can meet me there if you'd like:)

Looks like I'm going to have to get ready now. It's okay, it wasn't like I was going to spend my day being lazy while wearing pajamas binge-watching Grey's Anatomy and getting fat on ice cream or something.

I slide into a white tucked crop top and some black ripped jean shorts. It's mid-July and temperatures have been in the high nineties lately, almost one hundred degrees Fahrenheit and my body has been getting annoyed and tired of it. Then I apply casual makeup and throw on some, putting on gold-tinted wedges to complete the "look".

I then get into my 2015 grey Ford Fusion and head to the beach. I googled the festival and supposed to be the annual Shrimp Festival. I don't get out much so I wouldn't know. Fun fact: Did you know Florida celebrates the Shrimp Festival on the first weekend of October? The things the internet can tell you.

I drive less than ten minutes, maybe seven or eight, and arrive at the destination. Daniel pulls up at the same time I do and parks near my car.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again," he says, running one hand through his hair. He cleans up nice, in a polo shirt and shorts. It's nothing too fancy but well enough to make a good impression.

"You too," I tell him, shyly. Awkward. I look around and take in the beautiful view of many shops set up, small places that are cooking things for others to sample and or buy. Little boutique tents are everywhere, selling clothes and jewelry, you name it and I'm sure they're selling it somewhere here along the boardwalk. The sun is shining bright and the salt off of the ocean makes me feel relaxed. I feel like it should be some scene out of a movie.