Little Miss Babysitter

-- 17 --

She was 17.

He explained that they met at a pub, dated for three years, and married early. Them both having graduated from the same high school class, though they never really saw each other. On the third night of their honey moon, an embryo by the name of Nathaniel began to form. Bit by bit, their combined DNA crossed over to form him and his unique quirks. One, that he needs to have the milk fill his cereal bowl completely, else he won't lay a finger on it.

Two, baseball means more than anything to him, besides his studies.

Three, he's helplessly isolated, stranded and alone in this cruel world with one overly possessive parent. Rosie Rider. North Brinley Charter School alumn, and principal executive of her own record label, her life had been rather wealthy.

Their business was blooming ferociously; another day, another dollar.

However, the music industry suffered one year, pit falling to the bottom the charts, forcing the Rider's into a complex that could hardly be classified as an 'apartment.'

Not wishing this life on anyone, especially his family, the man enrolled in the military, never to be heard of again.

Until she was 7 months pregnant, and a letter appeared on her doorstep. What was inside? Oh, just a piece of paper saying that the love of her life had been blown to bits whilst defending his country.

---

Nate described every incident in such graphic detail, I had to pin my eyes shut and grip onto the table for leverage.

How could Rosie have told him all of this?! That's so--

"I asked her, don't worry." Nate responded to my thoughts, somehow sensing them. I forced an eye open to be greeted by his serene smirk, lightening the mood a bit. "She told me on the occasion of my 16th birthday. Her gift to me."

"That sounds terrible, Nate. I-I-I'm so sorry." I blubbed, unsure what to say.

"You wouldn't know what it feels like." He said quietly. I looked at him then, admiring, and quite frankly shocked at the vulnerability to his defeated stance. His shoulders hung low, and his head was bowed as if accepting a punishment with the least amount of dignity possisble. I hated seeing him like this, knowing that there was absolutely nothing that could be said to lift his spirits.

Instead, I climbed out of my side of the booth and strode in next to him. His hands laid fidgety in his lap, and I reluctantly slid mine into his. Almost as if he had been waiting for it, his fingers immediately closed around mine, embracing them with a tender hand-hug.

"Thank you for sharing with me." I whispered quietly, knowing the feeling of being absolutely and definitely alone. "I, I can imagine what it must feel like."

I sighed, and leaned my ear on his shoulder, ignoring the inner voice inside my head that kept telling me 'That's Nate! What do you think you're doing?! He's gross!'

He needs me right now, well, anyone for that matter, and I needed him. I needed him to tell me why he's like what he is, and he's done almost precisely that.

"You can imagine what it must feel like?" He hissed, sounding slightly irritated. Probably not with me, but just in general. Irritated with the fact that he's never had an example to be. Never had that one person that is more matured than the rest. The one you can look up to in a time of worry, for he always kept his head on straight. "You can imagine what it's like to not know what to do when your brothers ask you where their dad is? When they wonder why their own mother doesn't love them? Why the other kids at school have a mom and dad, while they're stuck with neither? Trust me, Ela. You do not know what it's li--"