Babysitter Cougar [COMPLETE]

Chapter 9 page 2 - Rejection

"Thanks for cleaning up my room, my Padme!" Saint emerges and stands by the leaf of his bedroom door, scanning his just tidied room with satisfaction.

"Not your Padme," I scoff and heading out. "I need to get the dinner table ready. Your mommy's coming home any time soon."

"It's okay, stay," he blocks me from leaving the room.

Before I could react to it, he abruptly tugs me to him for an embrace. He's tall now already surpass 5ft and it has become a challenge for me to release his grip. I squirm away but his arms don't budge. Slowly, his tugging becomes constricting that I couldn't breathe. I ask him to loosen up but he doesn't budge.

"Saint!" I gasp, releasing one of my arms before smacking his head hard to free myself.

My sudden defensive attack causes him to flinch and accidentally knocks his forehead on the nearest bedpost.

"Owwch!!" he shrills in agony, tumbles down by the side of the bed.

Frantically, I dash to his aid. "Saint! Oh my God! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

I find him lying sideways, tucking his both knees to a crouching position, facing away from me. As he starts to whimper in agony, I'm beginning to regret over my reflex and curse myself for hurting him. I come closer but he kicks me away.

"Go away!" he sobs. "You rejected my farewell hug. How could you?!"

"Saint, you're almost cutting off my air supply!" I rebuke.

"I get it, you like that stupid Tom Welling boy better than me because he's same age as you!"

I don't fancy him bringing up my crush, Hardy, the Tom Welling look-alike into the argument because I know he's right. Yes, Hardy is my friend from St. Paul Boys whom I secretly have deep feelings for but Hardy's different. Hardy's an emotionally mature person, he acted way beyond his age and I find that attractive. If Hardy and I are together, the girls will approve it. However, I doubt that I'll get the same approval if Saint becomes my boyfriend.

"Saint, Hardy has nothing to do with this," I pant. "If you want to be a man, then act like one. What you did doesn't make you a man, it's a big turn off."

"But if I am, would you still want to be my girlfriend?" he pouts.

Seeing his adorable wide crystal grey eyes pierce into mine melts my heart. This kid's heart is foolish but uncompromising. I don't want to let him have me because it's an impulsive act which he might regret later.

"Saint, why do you want me to your girlfriend?" I finally ask.

His sour face turns hopeful as he props himself up before answers, "Because you're beautiful."

"You used to call me an ugly wrench, remember?"

"I was too young to understand a raving beauty when I saw one," he defends.

"Wha..." my voice croaks in confusion to his unexpected reply.

"Besides, you're good at taking care of me. I bet you'll be an excellent mother to our future kids when we get married soon," he continues.

I almost choke at this statement. "It was my job, I get paid for it. Of course I did it diligently."

"Other caretakers before you get paid too but they couldn't stand me."

Okay, he has a point.

"So, what happens if I agree to be your girlfriend?" I query.

"Well, if you were my girlfriend, I'll treat you good and I'd be your shining star," he shrugs.

"Saint, you're basically quoting an NSYNC's song," I accuse.

"Okay," he huffs irritably and gives a thoughtful pause. "We can go on a date, maybe to One Utama Mall, holding hands and eat ice cream, something like that."

"That's all?"

"You can help me with my school projects and homework too."

I chuckle at his unfledged idea of courtships. "We can still do that as friends."

"But if you're my girlfriend, no one else can date you except me," he demands.

"That's a form of enslavement. You cannot make me do your chores and restrict my movement," I object.

"Fine! At least we can remain close like this until I'm old enough to marry you. And hopefully, you'll have strong feelings for me too," he grows impatient.

"It's not that easy, Saint. You cannot force someone to love you like that."

"So, you're saying you don't love me at all?!"

I wanted to tell him that the feeling's not mutual but it's difficult to clarify this to a child. As I see it, he must've wanted me so he can tell his friend that I'm his trophy girl, subsequently earn his place among the cool older kids.

"I love you like my little brother," is all I could answer.

"Fuck that! I'm not your little brother," he snaps.

"Saint, language."

"Is that all you care about? My manners? What about my feelings?" he quivers in frustration.

"What you feel right now is puppy love. It's not even real," I clarify. "Your journey isn't even reaching half. You've more to explore and I'm just a distraction. You should enjoy life, Saint. You'll find girls who are worthy of your affection. You'll meet them in your high school, your homecoming, or your college."

"Why not you?" he demands, propping himself up.

"I plan to get married by 2007, I don't think I can wait for you by then," I sigh.

"Why 2007? Why specifics?" he snarls.

"I'll be 22 by 2007. It was my mom's age when she got married. So, she's my benchmark."

"I pray that no other guys would want to marry you," he retorts.

"Hey! Don't be mean," the agitation in my voice raises.

"It's not fair! Why must I be born later than you? Why can't I be older than you?!" he yells, throwing his hissy fit at me. "You broke my heart and I hate you!"

"Saint-"

"Get out!" he barks.

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