Divergent High

Part 24

[Babysitting day]

"Oh hello Tris!" Mrs. K says.

"Hi Mrs. K! How are you?" I respond.

"Relieved that you're here."

"That's good."

"Come in come in." She says. I walk into her house...oh yeah, her husband must be a millionare or something.

"Wow, your house is-" I start.

"A mess, I know."

"A mess?! I was gonna say beautiful."

"Aw thank you Tris, how kind of you." She says.

"So, where's the baby?" I ask.

"Oh she's not a baby, she's in eighth grade."

"Oh." I say. How is your kid in eighth grade, and not allowed to stay home alone?

"Is that a problem?" She asks looking innocent.

"Oh no no no. It's fine."

"Okay, well I have to be going now. Uh MOLLY! COME MEET THE BABYSITTER!"

"DO I HAVE TO?!" She yells back.

"GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE NOW!"

"FINE!" She says. Down trots a girl with long brown hair, brown eyes, and a tall figure. Oh! And did I mention, THIS GIRL HAS MORE CHEST AND BUTT THAN I DO!

She stops to look at me.

"Hi, Molly. I'm Tri-"

"Tris, I know. All my mom ever does is go on and on and on about how you are her best student and stuff."

"Really?" I at first look at Molly, but then I look at Mrs. K, but she's halfway out the door.

"Yes really, but uh I got to go so I'll see you at five. Bye Tris, and Molly, be on your best behavior, please." Mrs. K says.

"We'll see."

"Okay well, I love you sweetheart."

"Love you too mom."

"Thanks again Tris." She says then she's out the door before I can say you're welcome.

"So Molly, want do you wanna do?"

"How the fuck should I know, aren't you getting paid for this?" She snaps.

Did she just...?

"I'm getting paid to watch you, and make sure you don't get into trouble."

"Good luck with that. So what grade are you in?"

"I am a senior in highschool."

Her eyes light up, "Ohhh! So does that mean you like go to parties, and drink alcohol and like do drugs?!" She gasps, "Could you hook me up?"

"Uh no parties. No alcohol. No drugs. Amd NO I will NOT hook you up."

"You're such a loser."

"Yup I sure am!"

Buzz buzz.

[Four texts Tris]

Four- Hey, how's the babysitting going?

Tris- Please come over! I'm literally dying. She's a nightmare.

Four- Wait how old is she?

Tris- FOURTEEN!

Four- Then it's not really babysitting.

Tris- Yeah, no kidding. Can you just come over? I'm good with actual babies, not teens.