Rejects // l.h.

10

Carmen being mad at me is boring.

Really boring.

I try to figure out a way to get her to talk to me. Then I have an idea.

As we're babysitting today, and we're in partners, it's obviously going to be pretty awkward. But I know a way to get her to talk to me.

***

We arrive at six year old boy Danny's house. Carmen knocks on the door confidently. A middle aged woman answers.

"Ah, hello, are you the babysitters?" She asks, her accent sounding foreign, maybe like Spanish or something.

"Yes, uh, I'm Carmen and this is Luke,"

"I'm Camille. Come in, come in, meet Danny!"

Danny is a small boy with black hair and slightly tanned skin.

"Danny! These are the babysitters,"

He mutters something.

"Say hi!" She encourages. The boy shrugs. Carmen goes over to him, and smiles.

"Hi, there,"

He mumbles something, not looking up from his toy car on the floor.

"Well I had better be going. Have a nice time!" Camille smiles and leaves the house. We hear the car engine revving, and speeding off out the drive.

"I want a bath," Danny snaps. Carmen blinks, then forces a smile.

"Ok, do you wanna show us where the bathroom is?"

"It's upstairs, dumbo!"

Danny storms out the room, and Carmen pulls a face at his back, reluctantly following.

"Luke! Come on," She hisses.

"I'll be up in a sec..."

When Carmen has  gone upstairs, I slip into the kitchen, a grin creeping onto my face. I start sifting through the cupboards, before I find the a jar of jam. Carmen's obsessed with jam. Last time we babysat, she ate four slices of bread covered with it, because we don't have jam at the school. I tighten the lid as hard as possible. She may be strong, but she isn't that strong. She'll have to talk to me to ask me to open it, right?

Once I'm done, I place it on the bench in full view, and hurry upstairs. I go into room which has noises of a loud faucet coming through the wooden door. Danny is sitting on the toilet with the seat down, while Carmen is kneeling on the bath mat, her hand under the running water, checking the temperature.

I sat down on a small, blue stool, even though I was too tall for it. When the bath was full, Danny refused to move.

"I can't get in the bath, she's a girl," He said stubbornly. "I'm not letting you see me naked,"

"I didn't want to see you naked anyway," She mutters under her breath, marching out the bathroom. My jaw drops. What now? Am I supposed to bath a little kid?

"Um, k, well, do you need help taking off your clothes?" I ask, my voice sounding flat like a robot. He shakes his head.

"I'm not a baby,"

"I know you're not,"

He jumps in the bath and starts swooping a toy car around the walls, making whooshing noises. I smile. I remember playing the same game when I was a kid. I think all little boys probably did.

When Danny's done in the bath, I dry him with a towel and stuff him into Spider-Man pyjamas. I look at him, kneeling down.

"Are you going to say sorry to Carmen?"