"Marco, when are you gonna get out of that room?" my mom asks from the other side of the door. Her voice evident of concern while I threw my duvet on top of my face, trying to ignore her noise. "—I'm not planning on going anywhere for now."
"And why is that?" she says. "—because I'm a weird guy who puts too much perfume and sucks at everything he do, so I'm just going to be that guy who devotes himself to collecting figurines and stay up watching anime."
"But is that really who you are?" she replies and I pause. "—are you gonna change or think of yourself something lower just because of what someone say?"
"It's not just someone," I emphasized, starting to get agitated that she thinks it's not of a big deal. "—it's the coming from the person who meant so much to me. If she says I am, then I am."
She sighs, then knocks on the door softly one more time. "I can't do or say anything to change that, can I?"
"Pretty much," I groan. "—can you please leave? I'm really tired."
"You have to babysit a child," she states and I glare at the door, pissed off that she's deciding things for me without thinking of my own opinion. "—I don't want to! Why do you always assume I'd do everything you want?"
"Oh Marco. The pay by the way is 500 bucks to babysit that kid for at least 6 hours. So if you don't want to I can can---"
"When?" I stop her, gritting my teeth because she persuaded me again to her selfish wants for me and 500 bucks is a great deal. I swear I could feel my mother from the other side of the door smile in triumphant as she replies. "This one o'clock."
"I'm Marco Diaz; My mother—uh, told me to babysit here," I shifted in my seat awkwardly, unable to think of words to say as their eyes pierced on me.
"How old are you Mr. Diaz?" the mother asks and I wiped another sweat for the tenth time with my hand towel that started to become damp. "—don't be nervous. It's not like we'll fire you based on your questions. I personally know your mother and I know I can trust you."
"I just turned sixteen."
"Oh, you're one fine lad," she smiles. "—anyway, my daughter may look like just some clueless young child, but I promise you she's a prodigy. She's a genius and we're giving her the best for her to enhance that gift."
"That must be great, having a genius daughter," I comment. "—I'm sure that I won't have a hard time and I'll take care of her ma'am."
Itake back the words I said. I'm pretty sure this genius wouldn't be something easy to babysit for the next six hours. She stared at me in surprise and utter revolt as she eyed me intently like I was a hologram. "What are you doing here?" she spat.
"Did you really missed me that much that you decided to follow where I live and disguised yourself as my babysitter, knowing that you're gonna harass me because my parents are gone."
I glared at her. "I did not stalk you and my mother forced me to babysit you, you petty little twat."
She rests her hands to her waist and stepped closer to me, obviously seeing our height difference as she's just in my waist level. "Shut up Zit Boy! I can perfectly take care of myself, so you can leave and just return when my parents will arrive."
I eyed her. "Kid, you're just eleven. How can I be at ease knowing that I left a child like you? Do you think I'd do that and I'm gonna stay here, even if your attitude is horrible."
"Suit yourself," she dismisses me and head to the living room, taking a seat on the couch. I follow her and tried to sit beside her when she raises a hand. "—don't sit beside me. Who knows when your zit parasites would invade my face."
I hiss. "I can't believe I'd be here with you for the next five hours."
She ignores me and turns to face me. "I'm not trying to be friends with you and I'm just gonna ask simply because if something bad happens to me, I'm gonna write your name on my pocket."
"My name?" I look at her. "—I'm Marco Diaz, you?"
"How come you've forgotten my name?" she squints her eyes at me. "—I swear, you're really just some old, uncivilized guy."
"And you should learn that my life does not revolve around you," I state at her. "—you're just some kid I met at the park."
"My name is Star geez!" she raises her voice. "—you're really getting on my nerves."
"Shouldn't I say that? I've been trying to be patient while you call me names and start being rude to me. You need an attitude fix, Star. No way are you gonna be successful if you're like that."
She stays quiet, then answers back but in a soft mumble that puts me off. "I don't care."
And that's where the silence starts between me and her that makes me very uncomfortable, knowing this kid is the epitome of Satan's subjects. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
"Should I always say something to help ease your social anxiety?" she bluntly replies. "—can't you see I don't want to talk to you?"
"Are you seriously angry at me? Who was the kid who always say hurtful things to me and she has the right to be the one to be angry," I chuckle.
"Where did your parents go?" I glanced from my watch to her face. My time to babysit her was over but her parents haven't arrived yet. "—I can't just leave you here and it's already late at night."
She fiddles with her fingers. "You can just head home. It's not like I'm going to be kidnapped or something. I have a taser."
"Still," I reply. "—you're still a kid. I'm going to stay here and wait for your parents to arrive even if it takes a more couple of hours."
"Why are you going far as to wait that is past by your supposed to be time to babysit?" she replies. "—aren't you supposed to hate me? To be happy that you're finally gonna be away from me?"
"I don't hate you. I just don't like the way you talk to people," I say.
She turns on the television. "Don't assume you're gonna have a chance to pick the channel because you're not."
I chuckle. "You're such a kid."
After an hour of watching Cartoon Network, she dozes off to sleep and lands her head on my sides. I glanced at her and shook my head. "In the end, no matter how rude you are, I can just clearly see that by the end of the day, you're just and still is a child."