𝖎. Anyone But Jake

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C h a p t e r o n e . . .

The rest of the day passed relatively swiftly, with the occasional period dragging here and there

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The rest of the day passed relatively swiftly, with the occasional period dragging here and there. Natalia soon arrived home, throwing her bag down and leaping onto her sofa, switching on the latest episode of Kitchen Nightmares.

A warm cup of tea in her hand, legs stretched out and Gordon Ramsay swearing at innocent cooks. What better way to relax?

✩✩✩

Jake entered his home, banging the door behind him, which earned him a slight scolding from his mum. "How many times have I told you not to slam that door?" she groaned.

"Are you telling me not to slam it now?" he queried.

Sue raised an eyebrow. "Of course I am."

Jake flashed a quick, pearly grin. "Then, seven," he stated coolly, before hurling his bag at the bottom of the stairs. Sue sighed and dashed upstairs in response to a sudden yell from Pete, no doubtedly from a Ben-related incident, whilst Jake strolled into the kitchen.

A large pot lay on the countertop, which when opened, revealed a steaming, delicious-smelling meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Jake grinned and dipped a finger into the sauce, before licking it off and reaching for more. He was quickly stopped by a small punch to the stomach.

Jake looked down to be greeted by his little sister, Karen frowning at him with her arms folded across her chest. "Jake, that's disgusting!"

"Sorry, Karen, but it's not that bad! My fingers aren't dirty or anything."

Karen furrowed her brows. "Actually, Miss Braybrook caught an illness and she says it spreads through body liquids and your spit it is a body liquid... I... I heard her on the phone to the doctor and she says it's an STP... erm B, called HIV/AIMS."

Jake chuckled at his younger sister and her adorable naivety. "I don't have HIV..." Jake paused and smiled. "AIMS. So you won't catch it, but if it makes you feel better, I won't take any more." He replaced the lid on the pot.

Karen uncrossed her arms. "Thank you, Jake, because if I caught your STP then, erm... then I might spread it to Pusscat and Hippo if I dribble on them in my sleep." She suddenly scurried off upstairs.

Jake grinned and sat down at the dining table. Suddenly, a pile of papers caught his eye. He picked the top sheet up and quickly read through it. It was an advert for a babysitter.

'Babysitter wanted on Thursday night for a lovely family. No qualifications required. If interested, ring the following number.'

Bloom Later ⋆ Jake BrockmanWhere stories live. Discover now