Looking After You

(4) Ages: 17 & 14

Ages: 17 & 14

"Give it back, Jameson!" Jenny shouted while chasing after James through her house. She knew the minute he stepped into her room something was wrong. The only time he ever came into her room while he was babysitting was to hand her the phone or check to make sure she hadn't snuck out. Leaving her journal lying on her bed was the second and worst mistake she could have possibly made. Luckily, he flipped to a more recent page which focused on a topic that held less weight and was far more superficial than she cared to admit.

"Kyle Jacobson from homeroom is so hot and his hair is so full. I wonder what kind of shampoo he uses." He mocked while running around the house, trying to read pieces of Jenny's stolen diary.

"Jameson, stop! I mean it! I am going to tell your mom!" The threat to tell Denise used to work like magic when it came to James and it was usually Jenny's only defense in situations like this, but things were different now. They were older now.

"The tattle tale threat doesn't work anymore, Jenny," James said with a smirk while standing at the opposite end of the couch.

A small smirk formed at the corner of her mouth and she crossed her arms, something she had always done when she got an idea or was about to do something unbelievably cruel to James. "How about if I tell the whole high school that when you were eleven you used to let me put makeup on you...and you liked it?" She threatened with a smirk.

The boy shrugged, trying to act calm about the situation and hoping she would drop her threat. "Whatever. It's not like plenty of other kids got make-up'd by their sister or little cousin."

She raised an eyebrow. "At eleven years old?" He shrugged once again, still trying to remain cool even as she pulled out her cell phone. "Alright. Then you won't mind if I just take a minute to update my status on Facebook."

James sighed in defeat and tossed her journal up in the air. "Fine. I didn't care about reading it anyways. I just wanted to irritate you." 

Catching the journal in midair, she rolled her eyes at his comment. "Just keep breathing." 

James fell back on the couch horizontally and looked up at Jenny in curiosity. "So, who's Kyle Jacobson?"

"Do you have short term memory? You just read all about him and, by the way, I did not write anything about what kind of shampoo he uses," she pointed out on her way upstairs.

His eyes followed her up the stairs as a repressed feeling deep in the pit of his stomach instinctively caused him to shake his head, a desperate and pointless attempt to rid himself of whatever was making him feel so strange.