Little Miss Babysitter
"That doesn't even make sense." I shook my head, bored out of my mind.
"Does it have to?" He let a grim, fraction of a smile appear, before absurdly dismissing the conversation from the air with the flick of his mitts. Focusing back on the Patriots' game, he moaned in delight whilst crunching down on my hard earned Fritos. "My house, my rules. Go get me some macaroni."
For once in a millennium, I didn't have a comeback. The bottom half of my jaw fell, and I stared at the bundle of malice curled up on the couch, just to make sure I was hearing right. He'd surpassed my plan. He found the loophole, the way around being made fun of by the other fitness jocks and most of the student body.
'Til next September, I am his slave.
I thought I was a step ahead of him, but turns out, he was two steps in front of me the whole time.
And he knew it.
B E A U T I F U L cover art done by the talented and gorgeous @ElliMau
Teen Fiction #52
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