Babysitter | Calum Hood

23

Maybe it was my fault for being a scared, little girl who didn't understand when it was time to fight for herself. I was eighteen years old, basically on the edge of adulthood yet I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that maybe sometimes, and let's hope only sometimes, thing won't go my way.

But from what I can tell, nothing ever seemed to go my way lately. It was like the universe was playing a sick joke on me for stealing Kayleigh Morgan's dumb Barbie lunch box in the second grade. It wasn't even that cool of a lunch box anyways due to the fact it wreaked of expire milk.

I tried to figure everything out for myself that day after school. Even if Calum didn't grow the balls to ask me to Prom, I'd still go and have a swell time with all my friends, who had dates.

But again, nothing was going my way.

The mall was spectacularly crowded for a basic Wednesday night, which made absolutely no sense because it was the middle of the week. There wasn't any big sales that made a costumer think I have to this product even if I have to give someone else's life to get it. No, there was none of that except the sale at that small pretzel stand that gave a free large drink with the purchase of two pretzel dogs. It was hard enough for me to move around the mosh pit of people who were shopping for God knows what when I was just trying to get a dress two nights before Prom.

Another fault to my night was the fact there was absolutely nothing in the store's that caught my eye. Literally nothing. I saw one dress that was the prettiest color that would compliment my darker skin tone, but the design made me want to be the next victim of the guillotine during the French Revolution.

Dress shopping was almost as hard as Geometry, which I barely got through with a less than average, but passing, grade. Nothing peeked my interest.

Shoe shopping was next on my agenda at the mall full of random Australian citizens who should be sitting at home instead of walking at the pace of a snail in front of me. Thankfully, something was on my side for that one because I found the most gorgeous pair of shoes.

But throughout my experience of being in a mall with tons of people and still no dress, all I could think about was Calum.

Would Calum dance like a white dad at a barbecue or would he dance like someone from Step Up 3?

Would Calum step on my toes a lot, or would I step on his more?

I wonder how Calum's going to style his hair.

I wonder what kind of suit would look best on Calum.

My whole mind was just Calum, Calum, and Calum.

It annoyed me because Prom should be about me looking great and feeling confident about myself, not wondering about a boy who most likely doesn't even want to go with me.

So, getting into my car only carrying one bag, I started my way toward's Calum's house. But when I got there, it didn't feel right to go in and just confront him like everything was his fault. I didn't want to do that and I wasn't going to do that.

Once again, I'm eighteen years old, on the verge of being an adult. Calum and I were going to talk it through like a mature couple who only wants to work things out to benefit the two of us.

That was what I wanted, yet all I can think about is screaming like a crazy foreign mother who had a shoe clutched tightly in her grasp and a high level of rage.