I was sprawled out on my bed with nothing to do. From Chris's room came the sound of "Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals blasting through her speakers. I rolled my eyes at the noise and got up to grab some snacks.
"Hey, Mom," I greeted as I found her putting dishes away.
"Oh, hey," she smiled. I grabbed some Oreos from the cupboard and began munching on them.
"Vic, stop eating all the food. How many times do I have to tell you?" she said with a pointed look.
"You don't even like Oreos. What's the big deal?" I retorted.
"It doesn't matter if I like them or not. Your sister does," she reasoned, placing a hand on her hip and the other on the counter.
"But she's not eating them," I shrugged.
"You're hopeless," she said, chuckling softly.
"Thanks," I replied, stuffing another Oreo in my mouth. She shook her head disapprovingly just as the doorbell rang.
"It's for me," Chris called from the stairs.
It was her boyfriend. Her oh-so-amazing boyfriend. Honestly, I don't know what she sees in him. My mom and I were definitely eavesdropping on their conversation. He was coming up with some flimsy excuse for why he couldn't go on their date.
"When can I kick his ass?" I asked my mother.
"Victoria, language," she sighed.
"It was only 'ass'! You should hear what everyone else says. They say stuff like fu—" I started but was abruptly cut off.
"Okay, okay, I get it," my mom interrupted.
"But seriously, why?" I inquired.
"Whoever Chris decides to date has nothing to do with us. She's old enough to make her own decisions," she explained.
"You're not going to intervene? What kind of mother are you?" I joked.
"Very funny. Now go clean your room. I know for a fact it's not tidy," she ordered.
"Yes, sir," I saluted, grabbing the Oreos to take them upstairs with me.
"You should dropkick him to Canada," I advised a sulking Chris who was still by the front door after her boyfriend left. She just shook her head. I got to my room and tidied up in no time—those, my friends, are the wonders of drawers, cupboards, and the space under the bed.
"Contagious?" Brenda questioned after Chris explained what had happened.
I had gone into Chris's room with my Oreos when Brenda arrived. Brenda was a good friend of hers and the only one I could tolerate. The rest were stuck-up rich girls.
"Yeah, that's what he said," Chris confirmed.
"He's lying," Brenda declared.
"Yeah, that's bullshit and you know it, Chris," I added.
"Guys!" Chris scolded.
"Oh god, I don't know why you're making such a big deal," Brenda said.
"Because he's the best thing that's ever happened to me," Chris admitted.
"Chris, he's the only thing that's ever happened to you," I pointed out, and she scoffed.
"She's right, Chris. That's why we need to get out of this place. It's like Dairy Queen—you can only get one flavor," Brenda said.
"How poetic," I said with feigned amazement.
"Brenda, you know I asked you over to cheer me up, and now I feel worse," Chris sighed as the phone began ringing in the distance.
"Oh Chris, I'm sorry," Brenda apologized, sitting on the bed with us as the phone continued ringing. "I'm just in a really bad mood. My parents are driving me crazy, and my stepmom is such a pain. If I don't get out of the house, I'm going to spike her Tab with Drano."
"Jesus," I commented as Chris laughed.
"Don't do that," Chris chuckled. Then there was a knock on the door, and there was only one person it could be.
"Chris?" Mom called. "Hi, Brenda."
"Hi," Brenda replied.
"Hi, Mom," Chris smiled softly.
"Chris, that was Mrs. Anderson on the phone. She wants to know if you can babysit for her tonight," Mom said.
"No, tell her I can't," Chris declined almost immediately.
"Why not?" Mom asked.
"Wait, aren't we doing something?" Chris whispered to Brenda.
"Oh, I have to go home," Brenda said.
"Because I want to stay home and be depressed," Chris tried to reason.
"Sit for the Andersons? That'll depress anyone," I snorted, and Brenda laughed quietly.
"I'm too old to babysit," Chris argued.
"Well, it's too late now. I already told her you'd love to," Mom announced, and I burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," Chris said, tossing a pillow at me.
"I wouldn't be laughing if you weren't going with her," Mom said. Now it was Chris's turn to laugh.
"Are you kidding me? Why?" I interjected.
"I'm going out in a little while. Do you really think I'm going to let you stay home all by yourself?" she said bluntly.
"But I'm sixteen. I'm old enough," I groaned.
"I thought that too, but last time you nearly burned the house down," Mom pointed out.
"It was an accident," I protested. "And to be fair, I was listening to Talking Heads again."
"Very funny, but you're still babysitting with Chris." With that, she left the room.
"I better head out too. Have fun babysitting," Brenda snickered at us.
"Piss off," I said, tossing a pillow at her. Unfortunately, she made it out of the room in time.
"This is going to be hell," Chris mumbled.
During the car ride to the Anderson residence, I felt like jumping out of the moving vehicle. It's not that I didn't like the Andersons—they were nice people—I just didn't want to spend my day looking after kids.
"I still can't believe I have to babysit with you," I groaned, leaning my head against the window.
"Yeah, you're going to make it ten times worse," Chris playfully rolled her eyes.
"I love you too," I said sarcastically.
We pulled up to the driveway and got out. Chris locked the door, and we walked to the front door. Chris knocked three times, and we waited until someone answered. I was hoping no one was home, but of course, they were.
"Hi, girls," Mrs. Anderson greeted us with a smile.
"Hi," Chris replied, and I gave a small wave.
"Come on in," Mrs. Anderson ushered us inside. "Thanks a million for this. I'm really sorry about the short notice."
"Oh, it's no problem. I'm glad we could help out," Chris smiled. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she playfully glared at me.
"I'll be right back," Mrs. Anderson said, explaining she had to find her other earring before heading upstairs. Then shouting and running could be heard.
"Take back what you said about Thor," the youngest Anderson threatened. Chris and I exchanged glances and went to see what was going on.
"No," her brother smugly replied. He hadn't seen us, but his sister had. She had a look of trouble in her eyes.
"If you don't take it back," she said with a smile, "I'll tell Chris about all those love poems you wrote about her."
"Alright, alright, Sara, I'm sorry. Thor's not a homo," Brad apologized. Chris was smiling a little, and I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter.
"Thank you. Hi Chris, Victoria," Sara waved.
"Hi," Chris greeted, and Sara walked away giggling.
"Hi, Brad," I laughed as he turned around with a shocked expression.
"Hi," he laughed nervously. "You didn't just hear—"
"Oh, no," Chris shook her head.
"Cool," he laughed quietly. "Boy, you look great. I mean really, your hair, your eyes."
"What about them?" Chris asked, frowning.
"Yeah, I'm leaving," I said and went into the kitchen where everyone else seemed to be.
"Hi, Vic," Sara smiled when she saw me.
"Hi, Sara," I smiled back.
"Do you like my drawing of Thor?" she asked, showing me a piece of paper.
"It's great. I bet he'd love it," I told her, and she giggled.
"Hi, Mr. Anderson, how are you?" I asked politely as he tied his laces.
"Very good, thank you. And yourself?" Mr. Anderson replied, looking up at me.
"Oh, I'm just perfect," I nodded.
Mrs. Anderson came in with Chris and Brad, talking about who knows what. Mrs. Anderson let out a disappointed sigh when she saw the mess on the floor.
"Brad did it," Sara said, not looking up from her drawing.
"Brad, clean it up," Mrs. Anderson ordered.
"Sure, Mom," Brad sighed.
"Alright, girls," Mrs. Anderson began, grabbing a sticky note from the fridge, "I've got some notes for you. We're going to the reception at the associate center. We'll leave this here with you, and Sara is not to wear her skates in the house."
"Now Sara, Chris and Victoria are in charge, okay?" Mr. Anderson said to Sara.
"Sure," she nodded. "Can we go to Häagen-Dazs?"
"Well, yes, but don't go too late, alright? Brad's going to his friend Daryl's tonight, so you don't have to worry about him," Mrs. Anderson explained.
"Why does he keep looking at you like that?" I whispered to Chris about Brad, who kept smirking at her. She shrugged in response.
"This one is just getting over a bad cough," Mrs. Anderson said, nodding toward Sara.
"It's been almost two weeks," Sara interjected.
"So l want her to take some of this. Give her a spoonful in an hour and another spoonful before bed," Mrs. Anderson continued, handing Chris a bottle of cough medicine.
"Okay," Chris said.
"Will you stop eating chocolate?" Mrs. Anderson scolded Brad when she saw him eating it and took it away. "You're going to get zits all over your face."
"Mom," Brad protested as Chris, Sara, and I laughed. It was time for Mr. and Mrs. Anderson to leave, so we all went to the front door to say goodbye.
"You guys have a good time," Brad said.
"We should be home by one," Mr.
Anderson informed.
"Okay," Chris replied.
"Take good care of my baby," Mrs.
Anderson said with a smile.
"I'll guard her with my life," Chris smiled back, wrapping her arms around Sara.
"Bye," we all said in unison as Brad closed the door.
"Brad, into the kitchen and clean up that mess," Chris ordered, taking the bar of chocolate from his hand. In the distance, knocking could be heard somewhere in the house.
"That's the back door. I'll get it,"
Brad said.
"Come on, let's go watch some
TV," Sara suggested.
"I just need to use the bathroom real quick," I said and left them as they went into the living room. I walked along the hallway when I heard people arguing quietly. I was going to ignore it until I heard Chris's name mentioned. I stayed by the wall and listened in.
"Chris is here, isn't she?" an unfamiliar voice asked. "Is her sister here too?"
"No," Brad replied uncertainly.
"Yes, she is. That's why l'm sleeping here tonight," the other voice implied.
"I don't think so," Brad protested, sounding like he was struggling.
"Oh, come on," the voice complained. "What's she wearing?"
"And that's where I leave," I muttered to myself as I headed to the bathroom. After finishing up, I washed my hands and went back downstairs into the living room.
"You're going to college?" Brad gasped when I entered the room.
"No," Chris replied, brushing Brad off, who was trying to hold onto her.
"Thank God," Brad sighed in relief.
"Calm down," Sara said.
"You're going to college?" I repeated Brad's question and sat down on the couch.
"No," Chris repeated, sighing heavily and rolling her eyes. It was just too easy to annoy her. She didn't make it hard either. "Mom put college books in my bag, can you believe that?"
"Yes. It's Mom, what did you expect?" I said. Chris rolled her eyes again before answering the phone that had just begun ringing, especially since she knew I wasn't getting up anytime soon to answer it.
"Maybe it's Mike," Chris said to herself hopefully.
"I hope not," I mumbled.
"Hello?" she said into the phone. "Oh yeah, sure."
"Brenda?" Chris asked after a few seconds. "Brenda, what's wrong?
Brenda, you're always in trouble...
You spiked her Tab with Drano?
You what? Where are you?
Brenda! Look, just don't go anywhere... I know... Oh no, Brenda, that's going to be like forty dollars. I don't have forty dollars... No, Brenda, I'm babysitting... Brenda, l've got my mom's car; I can't drive it into the city... Brenda, look, just hang up and sit down. Don't move, l'll be there in half an hour... Brenda?"
"She spiked her stepmom's Tab with Drano?" I asked when Chris hung up the phone.
"No, even worse," Chris said, pacing back and forth in the living room. "I don't believe this. I do not."
"Who's Mike?" Brad asked. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"Yes. Listen, guys, l've got to go downtown. Victoria, watch them both, please." Chris ordered.
"No," I said flatly. "I am not babysitting, especially by myself. I can't be trusted alone, remember?"
"Just don't go near the kitchen then," she desperately spoke, knowing I was her only hope.
"But with Brad here as well, the house will explode," Sara pointed out.
"That's a good point," I agreed, pointing at Sara with a nod.
"No, it will not," Chris disagreed. "I'll be gone for an hour there and back. That's it, okay?"
"No way. Don't you dare leave me here," I argued as we all stood up.
"You guys go steady or what?"
Brad questioned.
"What?" Chris wondered.
"Do you?" Brad asked.
"Yes. Are you guys listening to me?" Chris asked.
"Chris, I swear to God, I am not babysitting by myself," I insisted.
"Why can't we just all go?" Sara suggested.
"No, Sara. Your parents would die if they found out I took you into the city," Chris said firmly.
"They'd die if they found out you ditched us to go downtown," Sara replied smugly, the girl had a very good point.
"Well, who's going to tell them?" Chris challenged. The three of us exchanged glances, thinking the same thing, and then turned our focus back to Chris.
"Anyone need to use the bathroom?" Chris sighed, defeated.
"Nope," we said in unison. We all grabbed our jackets and headed outside to our mom's car.
"Come on, let's go," Chris urged. "Now, if anyone asks, we went for ice cream."
"Okay," Sara agreed. We were about to get in the car when someone jumped out of a bush.
"Road trip?" The same voice I heard from the back door asked.
"Jesus," Chris jumped.
"Where are you going?" The redheaded boy asked.
"Downtown," Sara said, her hands stuffed in her pockets.
"The city?" He queried, shocked at the destination.
"Sara," Chris scolded.
"Hey, can I go?" He wondered.
"No, Daryl, go home," Brad said, shaking his head. So that was Daryl.
"Who is this kid?" Chris asked Brad.
"Stray dog," Sara answered.
"What?" I murmured to myself.
"Daryl Coopersmith," he introduced, shaking Chris's hand. "And you're Chris Parker, right? And this must be your sister, Victoria."
"What are you, a stalker?" I asked him.
"Daryl, go home," Brad sighed before Daryl could answer.
"You must be a great babysitter,"
Daryl said.
"What is he talking about?" Chris questioned as Brad shrugged.
"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson must really trust you to take little kids into the city alone," Daryl pointed out.
"Yeah, isn't it great?" Sara exclaimed.
"It is so great that l'm going to get my mom to talk to the Andersons about you," Daryl decided as I started laughing.
"Chris, stop him," Brad said.
"And maybe you can babysit for me," Daryl suggested, beginning to walk away.
"Chris, stop him," Brad repeated.
"And maybe we can drive off to New York or something, just for kicks," Daryl laughed.
"Chris," Brad whined.
"Daryl," Chris called out.
"You think?" Daryl smirked, walking behind the house.
"What am I supposed to do?" Chris asked Brad.
"Get in the car and run him over,"
Sara suggested.
"Let him come," Brad sighed.
"I think Sara's answer was better,"
I spoke truthfully.
"Daryl," Chris called out again.
"Sorry, can't talk, gotta run," Daryl replied, waving as he walked away.
"Daryl, would you just get in the car?" Chris yelled.
"Alright," Daryl smirked.
"Now, boys," Chris began before getting into the car, "I swear if you give me any grief in the next sixty minutes, I'll kill you. Dead. Murdered. Stabbed."
"Raped?" Daryl asked.
"Gross," I grimaced.
"I am too old for this crap," Chris sighed as she and Sara got into the car. Daryl started laughing at his own joke, and Brad began hitting him.
"You're seriously making me go into the back with that?" | pointed at Daryl, who just wiggled his eyebrows.
I sighed before getting into the car. I sat behind the driver's seat, with Daryl in the middle and Brad behind the passenger's seat. Oh, how I wished I could get out of this one.