Little Miss Babysitter

-- 16 --

A lady, perched neatly on a railing, had her legs crossed sweetly. Her face was innocent, as she peered out at the site in front of her. The curve of her nose and jaw suggested elegance, while the unnatural curls in her hair defined her as a dare devil. The flick of her heels hinted that she had a wild side. Just how Nate likes.

"What the h--" I muttered, when Liam and Mason flipped back to me, their faces aghast. Unable to think of anything else, I shouted the one word that came to mind, that began with an H. "Hamstring!"

They looked at each other, their eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

"Natty, you're really good." Mason blushed, his fingers curling together. "Almost as good as me, but still..."

Liam nodded his head in agreement, both brothers rocking back and forth for some unknown reason.

"Who's she supposed to be?" I asked blankly, a yawn slipping through my lips.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, a smirk regulating the tiredness out of his system. "No one you need to know. Go make food."

I frowned, impatient once again, and huffed my way into the kitchen.

One of these days, I'm going to get him to listen to me again. I'll tell his mama! He can't get me to do his dirty work then!

I smiled knowingly, and before I knew it, I had a full table, plates of bacon, eggs, toast with Nutella, and cantelope all cut out evenly before us. I pulled out a few forks, and threw them hastily on each plate adorning the dining table.

Nate, Liam, and Mason, now fully dressed, came into the dining hall, sitting down sleepily in their seats.

"So..." I thought aloud after a while of the awkward atmosphere around us that threatened to choke me. "How'd you all sleep?"

"Like a log." Liam said, Mason agreed.

"Fine." Nate shrugged, his combed hair flopping as his head moved from side to side. "You?"

"Well, nothing too much to complain about. Your couch is really comfy." I purred, letting a chuckle slip, and noticing Nate's hard gaze on my face. "What?"

"Oh," He blinked. "Nothing. I just remember the story behind that couch. The red one, kinda like a brown-red, right?" I nodded.

"Yeah. Mom had just come home from Europe, some sort of business deal, dunno. Anyways, that's not the point. She told me she saw that exact couch at a fancy hotel that she stayed at, and boom. It's in our house."

"That's awesome!" I gawked, admiring the sofa from afar. My blankets were thrown sloppily over top, a pillow now residing peacefully on the floor. "They make them here too?"

"Nope. She bought it from the hotel. Countless of celebrity's butts have been on that." He hacked up a mouthful of toast, as he willed himself not to bark out his laughter. I scowled at him, his comic expression infuriating my soul. If Mason and L--, Liam and Mason weren't here right now, oh the things I would do...

I froze. "H-Hey.. That's pretty cool. Have you met any celebrities?"

"Yup." He said, stuffing a whole four pieces of bacon deep inside his hatch. "I've met Christiano Ronaldo, Mario Balotelli; just like, all the saints."

"Um, who are they?" I stuttered, a blush creeping up on my neck. I must sound so dumb right now.

He sighed. "Ronaldo plays for Real Madrid. Balotelli's for Italy. Wouldn't expect you to know that, though. Soccer, I mean. My mom's the one that meets all the music executives and stars."