Unlicensed Babysitter

Visitors

The next few days pass as if there's a fog over the household. We're all forced to stay indoors, by Richard's insistence, and with every day I grow agitated. There are more guards around, more experienced guards, and security is up to oar. There are periodic check ins through earbuds and Steve has really come out of his shell. Though security is tighter than ever, and it's a good thing, I feel like an animal in a cage. Mariam tries to hang out with me but her presence only makes me feel more suffocated.

Wisely, Richard offered the gym for me to use to get rid of my excess energy, and I used it while Emma read silently in the corner of the room. Her and I managed to come to a mutual agreement that we'll be together at all times but stay out of each other's business. It worked, but I still got the feeling that something was bothering Emma. She'd give me odd looks over her book while I worked out and would quickly avert her eyes when I turned to her. It frustrated me to no end but I didn't want to disrupt the cold peace that we managed. Especially since Mariam was so proud of me for adapting so well.

Today, though, I can't stop myself from rocking the boat. Instead of working out in the gym while Emma reads, I suggest we go to the library to relax. Emma is taken aback by my idea but agrees when we finish breakfast. We pad through the house in silence and make our way to the library. It gives me a funny feeling to be deviating from my new schedule but Emma has been accommodating me since I arrived. The least I can do is allow her a day without watching me sweat like a pig.

When we reach the library I stand around awkwardly while Emma quickly finds a book and sits down in a plush chair near the back of the room. She crosses her legs at the knee and gets to it, letting me do whatever I want, as usual. I roam around the library and touch the bookcases, barely picking up any dust. A lot of the spines I see are damaged in one way or another and I wonder how this collection came to be. Had Emma been hoarding books since she was little? Or did she recently learn of her love of literature and binge? I'm actually curious. Back in the facility I only read rules, which didn't blossom anything inside of me. Emma surely has a story of her own.

Humming, I weave between the bookshelves until I can see Emma across the room. Her feet are tucked under her, the ottoman nearby rendered useless, and she's smirking. I don't know what book she's reading but it must be funny. I roll my shoulders slowly then tip over to fall to the ground. My muscles are aching to be worked so I start doing pushups, still thinking about what brought all these books around me together. I bet some of them are first edition classics. Emma has the money to make it true.

Up and down, up and down. The library's carpets are soft underneath my palms and I dip low enough to let my chin brush up against the floor. The pushups give me a reason to be around Emma and I don't feel so awkward anymore. I wonder what Mariam is doing, whether the guards have checked in with one another yet, and what we'll have for lunch.

"If you wanted to work out," Emma mumbles, turning a page, "we could have spent the morning in the gym like usual."

I hold my body low to the ground for ten seconds, then push up and lift my head to look at Emma. "You like it in here, right?"

"Of course."

"Exactly." I move to rest on my knees, linking my fingers and lifting my arms above my head, and arch my back. "You deserve a day of relaxation, not watching me sweat mad gross."

Emma watches me, her cheeks turning pink, then red. "I don't mind..."

My right shoulder and back crack loudly. I groan, then drop my arms and rest my hands on my thighs. "It's okay. This is fine with me. I just need something to do so I don't go nuts." On cue, I flop onto my back and wiggle, stretching my legs.