Omaha Imagines [completed]

//Jack Gilinsky//

Babysitter.

*going to use I from now on*
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"But mom, he's like 17. I'm pretty sure a boy 17 years of age can take care of himself".

"Yes, I know, but a boy 17 years of age is a still an immature child that can throw parties and do I want to give a noise complaint? No.".

"Ugh...fine".

"You get paid anyways, so don't know why you're not happy", I sighed, going to change. It was only 5:00 and with daylight savings time the sun still shown brightly and the temperature was high. Throwing on a pair of light blue shorts which were cuffed at the bottom, a pastel red shirt that crosses at the chest a bit, and some white vans.

Grabbing an oversized denim jacket, I slipped it on and grabbed my book bag and sprayed on some perfume and deodarent.

It's just a boy, but hygiene is a big thing.

"Okay, Mom, I'm leaving".

"Alright, but when you come back, I'm going to be out bowling with some friends".

"Okay, just text me", I heard an okay and with that I left the house and went next door. It seemed like a nice house.

I went up the small steps on the porch then rang the doorbell.

"Y/N?".

"Yeah".

"I've heard so much good things about you, me and your mother go way back".

"She's mentioned it a couple times".

"Wish I could talk more, but it's bowling night. Jack is in the kitchen, there's a long table when you walk in, you can put your stuff there".

"Okay, thank you", she waved by starting her car and as she drove away, I closed the door of her house. My eyes looked at the decorations which then found the table. I set my backpack in a chair as I sat next to it, taking out my science notebook.

"You do realize I'm like 17", I turned around just for a loss of words. Regaining strength I breathed then went back to my notes.

"Yes, and you do realize 17 of age makes you a minor, a very immature one to be specific and your parents don't want parties".

"I know the basics. Aren't you 17? You would be immature".

"Not really...I just know how to handle situations better", I said beginning to write notes down. "Whatever. I'm throwing a party".

"No!", I softly yelled. His eyes shifted to me rather than his phone. His eyes looked as if an animal trying to kill it's prey. "And why not?", he slowly got closer to me as I stood up.

"Because your parents said so. Obviously this is you being a 17 year old boy that doesn't understand".

"I understand, I just choose not to go the high way", my body was only being held by the table as he stood in front of me. "Jack, stop".

"How do you know my name?".

"Your mother told me".

"Well, you can call me something different", he placed his hands on top of mine, making him closer to my face than possible.

"You're pretty".

"Thank you", I responded to him. A smile forming on his lips.

He chuckled, butterflies erupting in my stomach. "You'd be better than just my babysitter, y/n".

And with that he walked away.
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I should make this into a story!

Just saying.