Expect the Unexpected

Shea: Chapter 3

Shea: Chapter 3

I shove Julian's hand away from my ass after he squeezes it a couple of times. He looks amused as he drapes his arm across my shoulders. I take a deep breath because I need to snap out of this daze. I spent the last five minutes of calculus class staring at some pretty White boy. He usually sits on the White side of the classroom, but today, his friend, Bryan, got him in trouble, and Mrs. Tyler made the pretty White boy move to the "dark side" of the classroom. I absolutely hate that kid, Bryan, though. He's in my AP biology class, and he snickers at me whenever I raise my hand to answer a question. During freshman year, he nicknamed me "Mrs. Malcolm X" after I refused to do the original heritage project that our history teacher assigned. The project required the class to do presentations on the various countries from which our ancestors originated. I refused to do the project because due to the institution of slavery, African Americans can't pinpoint which African country our ancestors are originally from. Bryan and his friends started calling me a "black supremacist" after I refused to do the project. They started referring to me as "Mrs. Malcolm X" when I encouraged my fellow African American classmates not to do the project either. I wonder why pretty White boy is even friends with Bryan. Even though Pretty White boy crashed into me and gave me a bloody nose, he seems too nice and naive to associate with a racist, asshole like Bryan.

            "Hey Shea, you alright babe? Does your nose still hurt from when that mother fuckerran into you?" Julian asks. His deep voice disrupts my thoughts and brings me back to the present.

            "Of course, Jules. I'm gonna go to the bathroom right quick," I mumble as I detangle myself from his arms. "I'll see you at lunch, yo!" I shout as I make my way towards the girls bathroom.

            When I get to the bathroom, I decide to just wash my hands to relax myself a little. I stare at myself in the mirror and think back to my five-minute staring session with the pretty White boy. I've never been attracted to White dudes, but he's definitely an exception. Why is he so damn sexy? He looks like a Greek God, yo. When he sat in front of me today in class, I couldn't stop staring at his curly, chocolate brown, hair. He's like 6'3, with olive, sun kissed skin. His eyes are the same color as the clear blue ocean in the Dominican Republic. He's got thick black eye lashes that are so freaking long; they would probably tickle my cheeks if we ever were to kiss. His nose is absolutely perfect; it's identical to Elliot Stabler's from Law & Order SVU. He's got a chiseled jawline, which was sprinkled, with chocolate brown stubble earlier this morning. His bubblegum pink lips are surprisingly full, considering that they belong to a White guy, and I basically gawked at his stunning Mario Lopez dimples when he asked me for a pencil. In addition to good looks, White boy has dress game too! As soon as he sat down in front of me, I spotted his Notorious 1984 Air Jordan I sneakers! He was rocking the first Jordan sneakers ever invented, and they looked damn good on him. He had this cute, little diamond stud in his ear; he's the first White boy to rock a diamond stud like that, without looking like a wannabe. He also had this thin, beautiful, silver, crucifix chain around his neck. It was absolutely beautiful and it looked foreign. I know that he plays on the basketball team with Julian, hence his lean, muscular, frame, and toned arms. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands down his chest? I bet he feels like body temperature vanilla ice cream.

            I'm drying my hands, when my friend Asia comes out of one of the stalls.

            "Hey girl!" she screeches. Asia and I have been close since kindergarten. Our mothers work together at the hospital, and we went to both elementary, and middle school together.

            "What's up, mama!" I exclaim. Asia finishes washing her hands and immediately starts messing with her long black curls in the mirror. Asia is really cute. We're both 5'2 and fun sized, but her dad's Filipino, and her moms Jamaican. She has caramel colored skin and almond shaped eyes, and she's captain of the cheerleading squad. Asia can be a little conceited at times, but she's a loyal friend, and she's really generous. Asia is an only child, and her wardrobe basically looks like it belongs to Kimora Lee Simmons. She never hesitates to give me an article of clothing if she thinks that it would look better on me. 

            "So you start that new job today, right?" Asia asks as she applies a layer of shiny, pink lip-gloss.

            "Yea, girl," I sigh, "I get to be a nanny for some spoiled White kids. It pays well though, and the lady and her husband are giving me a car to use to take the kids places. The boss lady also gave me permission to eat whatever's in the house, and to order movies, and have friends over after the kids go to sleep."

            "Oooh! Turn up!" Asia jokes, as she adjusts her D cup breasts in her push-up bra. "Well How many little brats are there?" She says as she pops her gum.          

            "They've got a 10 month old, a 3 year old, twin 6 year olds and a 17 year old." I reply. Asia rolls her eyes when I mention the 17 year old.

            "White kids are so spoiled!" She snaps, "You know damn well, that if that family was Black, Latino, or Asian, then that 17 year old would be taking care the younger kids, no questions asked! Forget about a damn nanny!" Asia places her hands on her hips angrily, and flips her long curly hair.

            "Well, thank God they're White," I reply sarcastically, "Because other wise, I wouldn't have this job. The mom says that the17 year old will help me out when he gets home from practice. I've never even met any of the kids. The mom just showed me pictures of the younger ones. They're pretty cute though."  Asia rolls her eyes at me, and then starts to put her cosmetics back into her makeup bag.

            "Well good luck, girl," She mumbles as she turns to leave the bathroom. "I'm having a party on Friday night. Stop by after you get off of work, ok?"

            "Ok, girl," I respond as I follow her out of the bathroom. "I'll bee there." Asia turns around to smile at me, and I chuckle to myself. She's so goofy!

            I park the minivan outside of a pretty, private elementary school, and make my way to the building. My boss, Mrs. Cirelli, told me that the twins would be waiting for me in the front office. I hope that they like me, so that I can keep my job. I adjust my uniform skirt as I turn into the office. I look around for the twin Cirellis, and I spot two familiar looking children in the corner of the office. The pair skips over to me, and I try to recall their names.

            "Hi, I'm Andrea." The little girl squeaks as she hugs me suddenly. She's got olive skin, rosebud lips, chubby pink cheeks, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes. She's tiny for a six year old, but she seems sweet. I feel a tap on my thigh, and I turn around to face an extremely handsome little boy.

            "I'm Andrew." He says as he holds out his little hand for me to shake it. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He's got to be the cutest thing I've ever seen! He has little owl glasses that rest on his little button nose, and a spattering of freckles across his chubby pink cheeks. He has huge dimples and thick, curly, chocolate hair. He's taller than his twin sister, and he seems wise beyond his six years.

            "I'm Shea," I say to them, as I sign them out of school. "I'm going to be your new nanny." The twins nod their brown, curly haired, heads as they each grab one of my hands and follow me out of the school building.

            "Are you guys hungry?" I ask later that evening as I set the 10-month-old little girl down, and stand up from the couch to stretch. The kids simultaneously nod their heads yes, so I grab the baby again and head to the kitchen to cook dinner. I don't think I've ever seen kids as well behaved as the Cirelli siblings, and it's actually kind of unnerving. They act like mini adults. In the couple hours that I've watched them, the six-year-old twins, Andrea and Andrew did their homework. The three year old, Ansel, built a wooden block castle and watched adventure time, and the baby, Annmarie hasn't cried once. I've never met such a smiley baby. She can't walk, but she can say a few things, like "toys", "no", "ouch", and "potty". Whenever she needs her diaper changed, she says potty and points to her diaper. She likes to cuddle, and she lays her head on my chest whenever I hold her. I put Annmarie in her little baby sling, and put it on like a backpack as I look for something to cook. Damn, these people have a lot of freaking pasta. I get out the frozen, cheese ravioli, and a fresh loaf of bread, and decide to make the meat sauce from scratch.

            A half hour later, just as I'm gathering the dishes to set the table for dinner, someone walks into the kitchen.