Babysitter Cougar [COMPLETE]

Chapter 6 page 2 - The Talk Part 1

"You're a grown up now and that's normal," Sabina chuckles at me after Saint's squealing over my inappropriate behaviour earlier this evening. "You better be vigilant next time. Make sure he's not around to see it again."

"N-no. I won't do it," I'm scrunching the hem of my shirt and smoothen its creases. The heat and perspiration are still crawling on my face that I'm unable to succumb to the humiliation.

"C'mon, don't beat yourself up," Sabina rubs my shoulder gently. "You know, from where I came from, girls your age are already married with kids. It's a natural feeling you can't deny. So why suppress it."

I gingerly hover my eyes from my shirt to her beaming face. Her beautiful smile quells the discomfort awkwardness in me.

'I wish Dad is as understanding as you,' I say to myself.

"Well, fathers are difficult. They just want the best for us without understanding our feelings," Sabina said suddenly. Turns out I was talking out loud rather than said it to myself.

'Damn!' The things I do when I'm recovering from my embarrassment.

"Well, I wish he's more like Mom. Mom supports us in anything we do. She appreciates our achievements and never acknowledges our failure. Dad's upset with my ambition to become a newscaster. He said that's a worthless job ever, you read the news and that's it. There's no thinking to it. Mom's on the contrary, she told me to apply for Academy TV3 once I'm done with my SPM."

"SPM is the final exam for you to graduate high school, right?" asks Sabina.

"Yeah, SPM is like SAT in America," I confirm. "So it's a big deal. If I fail any core subjects like Maths, English, Malay language and History, I'll have to repeat it in July. It would be a blow for Dad to accept it."

Sabina nods to my explanation as she listens attentively. "How have you been coping so far with your SPM preparation?"

"I think I'm doing okay but not good enough to impress Dad," I shrug. "I got 70% for my recent add-maths test."

"70 for add-maths? Seriously? That's a killer subject, ain't it!" she gapes at me. "If anyone ever scored more than 60, it's considered a genius already."

"But Dad doesn't settle for less than 90, so that makes me a loser in his eyes. He's not abusive but he's strict and pressures us into numerous tuition classes other than cutting down our entertainment to only news and documentaries."

"Is it common here in Malaysia for parents to have their kids bound by this rigid academic regime with no form of non-academic development?" Sabina furrows in astonishment. "My colleague did the same to her kids. No TV, radio or toys except for non-fiction books and encyclopaedias."

"I guess not all. I've got my friends with sporting parents like you, depending on families. But ideally, kids with high scores get to go to Oxford or Cambridge or Ivy Leagues, making the family proud."

Sabina scoffs. "Any reputable university with good quality education will do, doesn't have to be the Ivy Leagues."

"Dad aims to send us all to overseas. He said we shouldn't be too complacent with Malaysian education system. So, we need to study abroad in order to become a productive person. It's the survival of the fittest."

"He has good intentions but I disagree with the method," Sabina exhales, drumming her fingers on the counter top. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's fine. I agree with you too," I give an approving smirk. "How about your parents, if you don't mind asking? What are they like?"

Sabina's expression turns frazzled when I ask about her parents but she quickly shakes off with a generous smile, as if concealing me from something. "They're just like your dad in fact mine's worse than yours. He wouldn't let me study at all. My purpose in life is just to get married, have my husband's children and that's it."

I'm fazed by this, I thought she had cool parents. Otherwise she wouldn't be here in this country.

"How did you get them to agree with you coming here?" I query.

It took a while for her to answer, her eyes penetrating into an invisible abyss in front of her and rolling back at me. "I was a very bright student in school. The teachers recognised my talent and signed me up for a government scholarship but I got turned down. Back then in Afghanistan, it was difficult for any girls to be accepted for anything because they'd be married off to someone once hit puberty. However, I met an Irish professor through a refugee program and he agreed to fund my tuition fees and send me to study in Ireland."

"So, is that where you met Saint's dad?" I'm wide-eyed and she beams. "Is he good looking like Steven Gerrard?"

Sabina laughs at my question. "I guess so, yeah. Ewan is an unusual sort of guy. He's much into rugby rather than soccer."

"Is he still in Dublin?"

"Yeah, that's where he belongs," Sabina's reply is short and unencouraged. I realise I just set foot in my boss' territory that she's currently avoiding. I withdraw from asking questions about her ex-husband.

P/S - This is how Sofia pictured Saint's dad would look like at that time : Steven Gerrard in 2002

Photo source : (Steven Gerard) Fifa World Cup, (Title photo) <ahref='https://www.freepik.com/photos/house'>House photo created by freepik - www.freepik.com 

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