Hollywood and Mr. Popular (the original)

Chapter 8

Stella and Mom left early this morning and they acted as if they couldn't get out fast enough. After they left, I showered, put on a hoodie and yoga pants, and went downstairs to watch Netflix in the living room. I fell asleep about 10 minutes later, waking up when I felt someone staring at me.

I jump and scream when my eyes fly open and the mask from 'Scream' is less than two inches from my face. I kick the perpetrator in his crotch, removing the mask and finding a tomato red Eli, who is now clutching at his manhood. He groans and falls onto the couch.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You should know! You did this to yourself, what did you expect a kiss?"

"That probably would have hurt less."

"Ugh." I grunt catching my breath. "How the hell did you get in here anyway?"

"You left the door unlocked. You're lucky it was me under that mask otherwise you could've gotten hurt." I snort, sitting on the couch on the other side of the room.

"Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"No need." He says, "I'll get my thank you another time." I roll my eyes.

"What was Dylan thinking leaving me with you?"

"I asked him too." I raise an eyebrow.

"Why am I not surprised? You know he doesn't get paid right?"

"Fine by me. I don't plan on doing much work anyway."

"Well, as my babysitter, you're required to cook for me, clean, entertain me, and make sure I don't get into trouble."

"None of which I am qualified to do. Except entertain you." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Again, not surprised." I say, ignoring his comment, "I can't believe you had the nerve to make fun of me for having a babysitter when you've got a maid and a butler doing all your work for you. Do you even know how to cook or clean?"

"Nope." He replied, not seeming embarassed, "but I'll bet you your sister doesn't either. You see, as celebrities, we can afford people to do your middle class tasks for us."

"For your information, my sister can look after herself perfectly fine."

"Really? So why does your mom feel the need to follow her around when she's on tour and supposedly living out her dream?" I just stare at him. Probably because she'd rather be out having fun than stuck at home with her disappointing other daughter.

"You're not a disappointment." I frown only then realizing I said that out loud.

"Whatever." I say, getting up and walking over to him. I extend my hand out towards him. "Come on." He smirks and gets up.

"I like where this is going." I pull him into the kitchen.

"Today, you get to learn how to make your own breakfast. Now, how do you like your eggs?"

"Uh, fertilized?" I blink at him.

"Scrambled it is. Do you know how to crack eggs?" He takes am egg out of the carton and throws it on the floor.

"Eli!" I yell.

"What? It cracked didn't it?"

"Are you actually willing to eat that?" He looks down at the spreading yolk.

"How often do you mop your floor?" I roll my eyes, taking out two eggs.

"All you have to do is bump the two eggs together, not too hard, but hard enough to crack them and then you open them up and pour them in a bowl like this." I demonstrate and Eli "ooh's" like it's the coolest thing he's ever seen." I pour in milk, salt, and pepper, then hand him a whisk. Just beat that, er stir it, and when you're done the skillet should be hot. Pour that in there and use the spatula and kind of pull the eggs around until there's no more liquid. You got it?" He nods his head.