Author: absinthe21 PM
I'm Drea. Normal teen, professional slacker, etc. One day, I kinda prayed a bit too hard for a more exciting life. Then, my uber-hot, long lost friend suddenly appeared outside my sex ed class saying I had to take care of HIS BABY. Wow, God. Just...wowRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Chapters: 25 - Words: 110,813 - Reviews: 333 - Favs: 155 - Follows: 208 - Updated: 12-03-12 - Published: 05-28-11 - id: 2918476
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
School is sooo boring.
I know, I know. Not very original. Kudos to the very first dude who ever said that.
I mean, I'm not praying for some random psycho to break in and begin shooting people and staging a hostage drama. I'm not even praying for a zombie apocalypse to break out here in California, and thus making Bilton Hall the stage for humanity's last stand.
That second idea doesn't sound too bad.
Or maybe it does.
I'd prefer my last stand to be at the mall. Yeeah… Now that would be awesome. I'd totally go over at Jim's Sports house and get a new pair of kicks. Then I'd go crazy at the hardware store.
Damn. I'd been forever dreaming of making DIY Molotov's and flame throwers. Like McGuyver.
Honestly, I don't know what I really want to happen. Just… just not this. I mean, come on! I'm a senior, okay? Seventeen years old! Do I have to be educated on how people get pregnant? You'd think the mean IQ of our batch plus the rigorous admissions process plus the hellish college-like curriculum would have dealt with that already.
And are these pictures of men and women who contracted gonorrhea, chlamydia, and syphilis really that relevant?
I mean, look at us. Do we look traumatized? Disgusted, at the least? Katrina and her minions, the ones who are the most high-risk in getting STDs, have their chairs in a circle, giggling while throwing flirty looks at uber-hot Devin Johnson. Probably planning how they're gonna trap the poor baby in their bed. (Heh. He's not really a baby, per se. He's six feet tall of heavenly goodness.) Seriously. If they're not even paying attention, there's no use for this shit.
Besides, everyone got a piece of real STD education (plus a part of their innocence dead) when a pic of Ryan Hunter's cauliflower penis spread around last year.
Genital warts be crazy.
Now do you see where I'm coming from? Why this boredom in a sex ed. class? Why I'd gladly have a zombie attack Mr. Collins because of his annoying monotonous voi-
Wait. What was that? What the fuck was that?
Did Devin Johnson just wink at those ditzy bimbos?
Has the untainted God of Bilton Hall finally succumbed to his animalistic… uh… what do you call that… primitive? …primitive! needs?
Now this I had to see. I watched as Devin "discreetly" pulled out his iPhone and began diddling on it. With that done, he tossed another happy glance at Katrina's group, thus eliciting an eruption of hyena-like giggles.
Gosh. This was why I passionately argued that reality TV shows should be shown on Animal Planet or National Geographic.
Where did all the "music" in Music TeleVision go?
Everyone jumped as the door blasted open. A man in a black suit and obviously "hiding" a gun under it entered the room. He even got those plastic earpieces and cool spy sunglasses.
He looked twenty-ish… and freaking cool.
And yeah, okay, handsome. Provided he didn't have weird frog-like eyes underneath those sunglasses.
"Good afternoon. I am very, very sorry to disturb such a wonderful, wonderful class but I am looking for Miss Drea Stevenson?"
Hands and fingers instantly shot out from all directions and aimed at me.
Prison rules, eh? Every man for his own? I sniffed and jutted up my chin in a show of defiance as I walked out with the hot, dangerous-looking man. I just hope they'd dedicate a statue for my heroism later on.
Hm. Yeah, right. As if.
I'm neither a rich heiress nor a promising student. They wouldn't care after the customary weeping at my funeral.
Aaand… hello there.
I narrowed my eyes upon entering the hallway. It looked as if CIA operatives had established a mini-base right smack here. What the fuck is going on? Did they discover the thousands of music I downloaded via torrent?
'Coz really, I could point out a thousand students in here who do the same thing.
"Drea," a hot, masculine, fluidy voice said amongst the flood of black suit-clad men. The "agents" separated like the freaking' Red Sea, revealing another suit-clad man.
Only, he was not wearing the cool shades.
Nor the plastic earpiece.
He looked super young. Like, kinda my own age.
And he was holding a bundle of something. Blue blankets covering...
I felt the strong grip of the agent who escorted me out of the classroom as I instinctively took a step back.
"Do I know you?" I asked. Brave front is brave. High five, yo.
He let out a short, shaky, annoyed breath and glared at me. Whaaaat? Was I supposed to remember this guy? I didn't know any jet-black haired, broad-shouldered 6 footer with smoky, silver eyes who looked a bit like Sean O'Pry, only better.
And I don't talk to douche-y looking guys either so... yeah. No.
But God, he's handsome. Do I really know this guy? I kinda hope so.
He's really handsome.
I'm not even gonna attempt to squash the sinful, unhealthy thoughts that my hormones are jamming in my brain. I'm liberal like that, yes.
"Alexander," he said. The way he said it made me think of a quarter-pounder being forced down my throat. A pinkish tinge appeared on his cheeks and he hastily looked away, looking extremely annoyed and uncomfortable.
I cocked my head to one side, rummaging my memory for people named Alexander. There's an Alexander in my Biology class, a squeaky freshman who brings porn for the seniors, and a sophomore who liked staring at Jessica Alba's pictures. I watched with slight amusement as his upper lip twitched while going up, revealing sparkly canines.
A snarl. Oh.
My heart skipped a beat when he looked up to my escort and gave a slight nod. I scrunched my eyes shut, imagining a hundred and one different ways they would torture me for forgetting some handsome-ass dude named Alexander. I felt the grip on my arm disappear. Then I heard a lot of shuffly steps that sounded like they were moving away from me.
Oh God. Death by firing squad?
Instead, I felt his hot breath on my ears and my neck. I smelled mint and a bit of alcohol. Mojitos?
Then he whispered, "What took you so long, Batgirl?"
And just like that, images flooded in my brain.
A swing. A seesaw. A gigantic tree. A fist. A boy's laughter. Volcano models. A little boy in a batman costume waving at me. Go kart in a purple field…
My eyes flashed open.
"Rush hour traffic, plus all the lights were against me. And you wouldn't want me to speed, would you?" said my mouth on auto-pilot.
"Oh my God. Alex. Alex Morgan," I croaked out. I blinked some more and clutched my head. Oh, wow. Blast from the past. He rolled his eyes and growled. He handed the bundle of blankets to me. I took it. I yelped as the blanket shifted in my arms.
"Careful!" he suddenly yelled as he mangled his arms with mine to support the...
"Is that a baby?" I squeaked while staring at the angelic baby's, sleeping face. Cuuuute...
I looked up and met his stormy eyes. He was still glaring at me for some reason. I nodded slowly and awkwardly.
My sorta friend whom I've never seen for about seven or six years.
He always played Batman and I was Batgirl.
And he already has a baby. Wow.
What is he doing here? And what's with the CIA battalion?
"Okay," I said slowly, nodding vigorously to encourage more information. Like, say, hmm... What does he need from me?
He looked away once again and slowly removed his arms from mine. I gulped as I tried to hold the baby properly (which is how by the way?). The baby gurgled and we held our breaths for a second. When it was clear that the baby was not going to wake up (and cause hell), we breathed out sighs of relief.
"So, hey, how have you been?" I wished that he did not notice the shaky consistency of my faux happy voice. I also did not want him to know that at the moment, I did not care about how he has been. Rather, I'd like an explanation about this kid in my arms.
He must have seen right through me because he glared at me. Again. Wow. Default expression, maybe? I remembered him to be some playful kid who never stopped bugging me. What the hell was up with the glaring?
"His mother upped and left. I want you to take care of him."
Cue the dropping of my jaw.
Now proceed with the stuttering refusals.
"T-Take care of… Take care of your baby?" I sputtered. "B-But I don't know how! I m-mean… Can't you hire a babysitter?"
Oh great. Now the baby decided to wake up and cry.
I looked around the hallway, worried that teachers or students would check out the source of the noise. Then I realized that the other black suit guys have left, except one. The one who got me out of the classroom. And he was fast approaching me with what looked like a baby bag and a blue bassinet.
Oh my God.
"Well, the last one kidnapped him and held him hostage. I can't risk such interruptions anymore. I lost ten million dollars worth of my time just handling that idiotic situation."
Ten million dollars worth of his time.
That would mean a lifetime and a half, if it were me.
"You're rich?" I unashamedly blurted out. At least I did not get a glare. This time, he awarded me with a smirk. Nice. Insert sarcasm.
"Always have been," he smugly said as Mr. Escort placed the bassinet and baby bag beside my feet. The baby still would not stop crying even as I rocked it slightly. Jesus, the movies make it seem a lot easier. They both turned to walk away from me.
"Wait! You can't possibly do this! I… I don't know how to take care of a baby!" I didn't care that I was screaming at the top of my lungs. The baby was awake already anyway.
He turned his head towards me said, "You're the only one I can trust."
"You're the only one I can trust."
When the voice of a young boy from seven years ago finally faded, I was already alone in the hallway. I shivered and clutched the nearby wall to prevent my knees from fully buckling under my and the baby's weight.
The weight of responsibility of having to take care of a living, breathing human baby finally dawned on me.
No. Not dawned.
It crushed me.
Even the baby's cries were muffled by the murkiness of my banged-up brain.
Sorry. Drea's brain is intended to be very messy. The type who starts sentences with "I mean", and peppers it with "Oh my God".
And the thing that Alexander whispered was a direct quote from a Batman episode. What Drea said as a reply was Batgirl's line. Not original. Just being a fan. Hahaha.
So there. Hope you enjoyed. I'm excited to continue. Are you? XD