A Work in Progress

Babysitting gone Wrong

As I slumped against the red leather booth inside of Java Junction, I couldn't help but dread going home.

Unlike the rest of the female population, I couldn't stand children.

And my current employment was babysitting. Every Wednesday at 5 o'clock sharp.

Which is another reason why I was trying to drink my body weight in caffeine. I would need as much help as I could get tonight, especially after the week I've had.

I let out an obnoxious sigh, resting my head against my arms. What I wouldn't give for a nap right now. Suddenly, the booth in front of my squeaked, someone had sat down. I composed myself quickly, my sour mood wasn't their fault.

However, the eyes that looked back at me made me groan and ponder smashing my head into the table all over again.

"Anderson, what do want?" I practically growled.

"Nothing you have to offer," he replied sweetly.

"Then get out."

"Don't you mean go out?"

"You're insufferable."

"So I've been told."

My jaw clenched and he smiled, adding to my disdain.

"Look, about last weekend—" he began abruptly, his tone was serious. He came to make a point.

But I cut him off.

"Save it," I grumbled.

Anderson ran a hand through his chestnut hair, and I could tell he was put off by my sudden attitude. His dark eyes were searching mine.

"I think you should go, I have somewhere to be," I said, starting to get up. I just couldn't do this today.

His eyes flashed for a second, and I rolled my own. "Just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, doesn't give you the right—" I started.

"The wrong place at the wrong time?" he asked incredulously, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes."

"Sorry to bother you, but when you see your childhood best friend getting pummeled by her so called boyfriend—"

My mouth dropped open.

"How dare you," I whispered.

"—you kind of want to talk to her about it, and I don't know, make sure she's okay," he finished, his breathing almost as heavy as my own.

"I told you that everything was under control," I spat. I stormed out of the cafe, unwilling to hear his response.

Running a hand through my red hair hastily, I started the route home. My anger only flared towards Anderson, despite my exit.

He didn't know anything. Just because we used to play in the sandbox together doesn't give him the right to tell me who's good for me.

Max, my previous boyfriend, didn't even hurt me. He just had a short temper, and he was in one of his moods. It was fine. I was fine. Anderson had just walked in at the wrong time. It was my fault, I made Max upset in the first place. Things escalated quickly, and Anderson saw the worst of it. Max wasn't a bad guy.