The Babysitting Contract | j.jk

19 • anarchy

"I found him!"

My head snaps up at Iseul's voice, peering over his shoulder to try and make sense of the fuzzy camera feed. Sejun has stopped screaming, looking mildly interested as he plays with the tips of his hair. Chul on the other hand acts as if I'm an inanimate object and not human being, climbing my form like a rock wall and struggling to get a look.

"He's on the roof and writing in a diary," Iseul narrates for us all. He frowns, tilting the screen in his hand. "What is this dumb stuff? Who even keeps a diary anymore? Could he be even more dramatic? Sheesh, I have a reputation to uphold, and this isn't helping."

"At least you have an amazing babysitter," I supply hopefully.

"Wrong," Iseul counters. "You only gave me four cookies."

"I said you could have one!"

"You gave Chul seven!"

I bristle, ignoring Iseul's comment. "First to get Jeongguk to the kitchen gets an extra cookie."

My words are like magic.

The boys vanish in an instant, their cackles and shouts fading as they lose themselves in the manor.

I sigh, securing my own red bandana and straightening the belt that hangs over a shoulder and connects at the other hip. Pearls of water leak out from the water gun strapped to my back. With a final brush of eyeliner on my cheeks, I'm ready to play the part.

I meander my way downstairs and wait patiently at the kitchen island. Work smarter, not harder, is what I think as I hear a distant shout followed by three distinct laughs, indicating that the boys have finally found their target.

As I wait, I smooth the white t-shirt I held in my hand across the marble countertop, picking off any stray bits of fluff or dirt. Agent Loser From The Loser Team is sprawled across the front to which I can only credit Iseul.

My idea had been to name him Cirque Du So Long, Acro-Bastard.

I pull the wad of cue cards from my pocket, going over the definitions and questions I already know by heart. I'd already used them myself to study for the test, and there's only a few terms I stumble on and flip to the back for the answer.

A giddy sense of anticipation shoots through me. Yes, this was an incredibly stupid idea, and yes, I would kill him if photo evidence of my getup ever got leaked, but I still feel proud at what I'd managed to pull off. Not only were the boys involved but it also allowed me to show Jeongguk that I was serious about rebuilding our friendship.

Besides, friends do this sort of thing. I think.

Not that I'd ever dare to drown Nayeon (she'd stick her heels in my eyes), but, you know, other very specific, special types of friends do things like this.

And I feel like Jeongguk and I have a very specific, special almost-close-to-rebuilding-what-once-was type of friendship.

So this totally justifies me drowning him.

The sounds of shouting and laughter grow louder, and soon enough I'm greeted with the sight of a visibly frustrated Jeongguk. Sejun and Iseul grip his hands and yank him forward, while Chul, perched precariously on the boy's shoulders, grips his hair like Remy from Ratatouille and tries to steer him with the conviction of a drunk person behind the wheel.

"Lovely of you to join us on this fine autumn evening," I coo, bracing my elbows on the marble and cupping my cheeks.

Iseul coughs pointedly, still trying to drag Jeongguk towards me.