The Babysitting Contract | j.jk

01 • water guns

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"Ready or not, here I come!"

I curse under my breath. Thirty seconds is not nearly enough time for me to find a hiding place, especially when Iseul counts down at the speed of light. The eight-year-old is too mischievous for his own good, and his rapid counting only speeds up my inevitable encounter with the wrong end of his water gun. While he's practically dry, I'm already soaked to the bone. This boy lives to see me suffer.

Clutching my own water gun to my chest, I silently creep along the second story of the Jeon's manor. The long hallway of closed doors promises many prime hiding places. I debate slipping into one of the bathrooms, but the puddle of water outside that soaks my sock reminds me that Iseul already discovered that hiding spot. I cringe, making a mental note to wipe up the mess before Mrs. Jeon gets home.

I can hear Iseul racing around the first floor, cackling like a maniac. The little twerp's ego has almost inflated to the size of his brother's. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I know I need to do some damage control before he turns into a miniature version of the spawn of satan.

This is it. Say goodbye to Ms. Nice Girl. Iseul is going down.

The linen closet at the end of the hallway looks promising. Easy to overlook and small enough that he wouldn't even consider it as a hiding space. I know I made the right choice as I slip in. The door barely closes in my wake and my water gun is so big that I have to raise it above my head to make enough room. There's no way he'd think to check here.

"Come out and fight me, you coward!"

The shelves of towels and toiletries dig into my back. Sweat pools at the base of my neck. Outside is rainy and muggy and gross, and even tucked away in the air-conditioned manor, the late summer heat is still dreadful. I half consider Iseul's offer. If I hadn't already decided to ruin him, I'd gladly accept being drenched with cold water.

I hear a set of footsteps ascend the stairs and quickly prepare myself for battle. Iseul won't go down without a fight. Years of babysitting the kid has taught me that much. He's almost as stubborn as me, and I've slowly grown to appreciate the everlasting patience my own mother has with me. I can't imagine the trouble she went through raising me on her own.

My finger hovers over the trigger, breaths shallow. Having reached the landing, the footsteps turn, moving with purpose and quickly approaching my closet. They don't stop, not bothering to check for me in any of the empty rooms that line the corridor.

I scowl. I can't believe I thought Iseul was above cheating. Of course he knows where I am. He probably knew my hiding spot from the get-go. The tech genius no doubt has the house rigged with cameras. His computer could tell him everything. He was just biding his time to watch me squirm.

It's scary how similar he is to his brother.

I grow more determined than ever. The footsteps stop outside my closet. Against my hip, the doorknob slowly twists open. A grin overtakes my face as a sliver of light cuts through the dark.

It's showtime, baby.

The door is pulled open and I jump into action, reciting the line I thought of just moments ago.

"Water shame this is how you die, Iseul!"

Eyes squeezed shut and plastic gun gripped with both hands, I swing my arms in a wide arc, squirting a pathetic stream of water at who I assume to be Iseul. I half expect him to fire back and slam myself back into the shelves, shrinking away from a possible attack with a shriek.

But the attack doesn't come.

Instead of childish squeals, I'm greeted with a deep shout of surprise chased by a string of curse words I know for a fact Iseul doesn't possess in his vocabulary.