The Help

Chapter 3

I'm one of those people that get utterly obsessed when I'm in love.

That's how I was, with Priya.
She was a big part of the reason that I wanted to stay in my home town and not move across the state.
I didn't believe that I would be able to be without her for that long.

We spent so much time together, it's basically like we were attached at the hip. Aside from when we were working, we were together 24/7.

Since we got together when we both turned 17, we've been together for 5 years.
That's a long time, I know.
I can't tell if it messed with my development, having basically grown up alongside someone and having them be your other half to the point where you're never a whole on your own.
Anyway.

When we were 13, we had a sleepover together. This sleepover was one of many.
Priya was telling me about her "boyfriend" at the time. The quotation marks are necessary because let's be serious, how real are 7th grade relationships?

I remember clutching a pillow really hard as I was listening to her, my eyebrows furrowed at how excited she was to talk about him.
What was so great about him, that she couldn't find in me?

Fast forward to when we were 15, a different sleepover that was at my house this time, and not in Priya's hot pink room.

"Have you ever thought about kissing a girl before?" I asked her. Of course my gay ass brought it up first.
"Not really." Priya admitted, "You?"
"Not really." I just repeated what she said, obviously lying. I thought about kissing her so many times.

Eventually, We did.
Priya was a cheerleader when we were both in high school. After a big game, that our school won, we ended up in one of the schools empty hallways.

She looked so fucking gorgeous in her cheer uniform, her hair in two dutch braids and a big smile on her face.

"Priya!" I gave her the biggest hug when I caught up to her, "That was so amazing!"
I congratulated her on leading the cheer team so well, and keeping the school spirit up.
"I had my lucky charm, how couldn't we have won?" Priya smiled.

It's not like she was the one directly out on the football field, but she insisted that the football team wouldn't have gotten as far as they did without the motivation from the cheer team.

There was a brief pause, then she kissed my cheek. I blushed, and kissed hers. Another brief pause, and I don't know how to happened, but my mouth went from her cheek to her mouth.

We kissed, and I felt my heart skip a beat inside my chest as I felt her slowly lean into the kiss. I pulled her closer to me and she wrapped her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss.

That was where our relationship started, and continued to blossom and flourish from there onwards.
How could I leave that behind?

Ms.P sent me an email with a document attached to it, discussing all the details of what the job would entail.

Just cleaning, apparently.
The description specified that the home already had a gardener, a cook, everything.
The last housekeeper simply made enough money to retire early, which was a good sign.

If I signed the employment contract, I would be agreeing to staying there for up to a year.
I would get weekends off, my own room and I'd be free to eat whatever the chef prepared.
I would be lying if I said my jaw didn't drop at the earning rate. $50 fucking dollars an hour.

What was the catch? The house was literally a mansion.
Over 7000 square feet, and the description, once again, specified that they loved hosting parties, get togethers, all that jazz.