Bella
It was quite awkward; just sitting there in a complete strangers house. It was so silent that it was almost deafening. Was that even possible?
All I could hear was the ticking of the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. The sound suddenly changed after a few moments, adding clicks to the rhythm. I turned my fingers into drumsticks and tapped to the beat.
I turned to see Mrs. Prince' stiletto heels clicking towards my direction. I sat up straight from the slouched position I was in and slowly tilted the corners of my mouth, creating hopefully, a presentable smile. Mrs. Prince mirrored my actions, showing me her pearly, white teeth.
"So, Isabella.." she spoke.
"Please, call me Bella" I quickly interrupted, hoping I didn't sound rude.
"Bella" Again, she smiled. "From everything I've read, you seem like the perfect babysitter for my daughter. I've never hired someone so young, I mean, you're only 17! But, I do see something in you which I really like. You see, my son, James, he's around your age but he's never home to look after Ashley!"
I nodded my head in response, trying to digest everything she said to me.
"So, what I'm trying to say is that you can have the job!" I paused for a second, not believing what she had said.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I beamed. I was so happy. No. I was more than happy. New town, new house, new room and now, new job. All in the space of a few days. My luck was getting better.
I only stayed at the Prince' beautiful home for another 5 more minutes, kindly rejecting to stay for lunch. It definitely wasn't ironic that her second name was 'Prince'. I mean, her home was breathtaking, literally; I held my breath every time I touched something, just incase my bad luck decided to hit me and anything I have in contact.
I'm the 'jinx'. The girl with the bad luck. The girl made out of bad luck. You don't believe me, do you? I'll soon prove you wrong.
* * * * *
James
"Mom, please, come on!" I raced to her side before she could shrug my comments off again. "You can't hire a babysitter!" I was hopeful. No. I was determined. No way am I getting a babysitter, no freaking way.
"For the millionth time, she's not for you" my mom sighed, trying her best to avoid eye contact.
"I don't need some 50 year old granny to watch over me, I am capable of that on my own!" the steam started to escape from my ears.
"For the millionth time, she's not for you!" if I thought there was steam coming out of my ears, I stand corrected, because my mom was an inch away from turning into a human volcano. That definitely was my signal to vacate the danger zone.
"She'll be here in 5 minutes, James" my mom shouted as I left the room; "and let me tell you now, she's not what you'll expect so keep an open mind" I could visualise the smirk on my mothers face right now.
Have you ever came across those little kids that mope and moan and complain until they get what they want? Well, yeah. That'll be me very soon.
I really didn't need this right now. This will ruin my reputation big time. 'The James Prince has a babysitter?' That line makes me shiver. I can literally feel the goosebumps, chills running down my back.
I don't have a big ego, I swear. Everyone gets labelled in high school, and, well, I got a label too; I'm a 'popular'. I don't mind, I mean, why would I? The label just makes it easier for girls to find me; attracting them wasn't something I had to ever try on.
Don't ask me how I somehow end up with girls at either side of me, begging for my attention. I just do it, somehow. "You have the full package" they say. I apparently have the "star" look. You know, the dark hair, blue eyes, nice height, nice body, good style, even a pretty darn good name to wrap it all up in, James Prince.
I'm going through a phase right now though. I'm in a relationship; which is pretty hard to believe. Her names Tess and she's smoking hot; the hottest girl in Rosefield High. We sort of, you know, click. We mash well. She's popular, I'm popular. She's hands down super hot, and, I've been told that I'm not too bad myself. She's, well, erm, yeah. We have more in common, I swear. We both like to, well, you know, we both li...
KNOCK KNOCK
Thank god that interrupted an awkward mind shower.
'This is going to be the start of the worst part of my entire life' I whisper to myself as I stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for my mom to open the door to greet the monster.
Slowly. Slowly, my mom pulls open the door but she's blocking my vision, I can't see who's standing at our doorway. 'Great' I sigh. 'I have to go downstairs'
"Hey, sweety" my mom squeals.
"Hello, Miss Prince" replies a very small, delicate voice which can only belong to a small, petite girl. Wait, what?
"Please, hunny, call me Lynn! I've never liked my second name, remind me to change it back to my maiden name" my mom laughed, pulling along the yet to be unmasked babysitter through our home. I heard the girl giggle, a very soft giggle. I was so confused.
One foot at a time, I made my way downstairs, before facing my mom and the back of someone's body. It had to be someone young, it had to be. She was wearing a black, knee length dress topped with a denim cropped jacket, complimented with red pumps. Her brown hair was in loose curls flowing down her back and her olive legs seemed to go on forever. I was in complete suspense waiting for this girl to turn around and face me; what was I expecting to see?
"Bella" my mom said, "this is my son, James" She gestured towards me while I let out an awkward cough, looking down at the floor for a few seconds.
Those few seconds must have been so much longer than I had anticipated because during that time, the girl had turned around to face me before looking away and shuffling her feet. Her green eyes were filled with shyness and her cheeks were turning a shade of pink from blushing. 'Cute' I smirked. I could see that her lips almost blended perfectly with her rosy, pink cheeks as she tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. This time, it was her turn to let out an awkward cough.
"Oh, erm, sorry, hi, I'm James" I smiled. She looked up for a split second before returning back to the same position she was in.
"Bella" she whispered in such a soft voice that I could barely make out the words she was saying.
I guess you could say that I liked the shy ones. They have mystery.
YOU ARE READING
Like falling off a cliff.
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