15 Days Babysitting For My Star Quarterback Bully

I hate school.

Not in the way an average teenager hates it, no. My hatred for school was borne out of the literal need to survive torment every single day of the week. Thankfully, I've managed to find a few worthy reasons to endure the nightmare.

One of said reasons, Maya James, waves at me from across the cafeteria. "Over here," she mouths, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

Smiling back, I clutch my food tray tighter, adjusting my unzipped backpack as I head in her direction. I'd been in such a rush leaving art class that I didn't bother with zipping it, and after the incident with my locker last week, I know better than to leave my personal things in there anymore.

I keep my head down, ignoring the ends of my brown hair falling over my plate, as I pass the table. A screeching chair sounds to my right, and I make the mistake of looking up.

Tyler Brooks' lips curl into a predatory smile that sends shivers down my spine. Averting my gaze quickly, I continue on. But I don't see the Spawn of Satan casually sticking his leg out until it's too late.

I tumble forward, my mouth opening in a silent scream as I try – and fail – to stop myself from crashing onto the dirty floor. My food tray and backpack clatter in tow, spilling fries, vegetables, and books everywhere, but it's the sight of spilled ketchup on my sketchbook that causes my eyes to sting.

Laughter erupts throughout the cafeteria as everyone suddenly focuses on me. They point and whip out their phones, which is soon followed by flashes and the humiliating sound of shutters capturing a moment I want erased from my memory. No doubt, in the next five seconds, pictures of me in this sorry state will flood the seniors' gossip page created for moments just like this one.

I blink back tears and raise my head, only to be met with Tyler smirking right at me. That and the sound of everyone else at his table snickering tells me it was intentional. And even though I already knew, it gives me confirmation that he was the one who spray-painted my locker with the words "nerd," and proceeded to spill spoiled milk all over the inside.

He probably had someone do it for him. After all, the entire school was so desperate to curry his favor that they'd lick his feet if he asked them to.

"Didn't see you there, nerd," he says, raising a brow like he's daring me to challenge him.

'It's my fault,' I think as I look away from his piercing gaze and shove my books, even the soaked ones, back into my bag.

After three years of being subjected to both mental and physical torture from Tyler and his friends, I should have known better than to walk past their table during, well, any period really. I should have gone the longer route, round the hall, to take my seat beside Maya.

Footsteps approach me, and shortly after, I feel arms wrap around me. "Come on, Lila," Maya says as she helps me stand. Then, she crouches and scoops the spilled food back onto my tray. "Ignore them," she whispers once she's standing beside me again.

I raise my chin and turn around as she leads us out of the cafeteria. Just a few months and senior year will be over, I remind myself. And I'll be damned if I let Tyler Brooks see me break.

"Are you okay?" Maya asks, tossing my food into the trash can by the door. "I can ask the lunch lady to serve you another. You know she likes me," she winks.

I laugh despite myself. "Everyone knows Mrs. Greta doesn't like anyone."

My best friend scoffs, tossing her blonde hair over one shoulder. "She smiled at me yesterday. You saw it too."

Pressing my lips together, I throw an arm over her shoulder. "That, my good friend, was a grimace."

"Whatever, it still counts." Maya rolls her eyes, dumping my tray on an empty table. Then, she shakes her head. "I can't believe that jerk did that to you," she says, throwing a glare over her shoulder.

"We're ignoring him, remember?"

"Yes, but..."

Before she can finish her sentence, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and stare at the text from Mrs. Danvers – my art teacher and neighbor.

"Hey, Lila, I've got a job for you. Parents are going to be out of town for fifteen days, and they need a babysitter. Pay is six grand!"

My lips curl into a wide smile. Not even Tyler's antics can quell the joy of having such an addition to my college savings.

Surely, things can't possibly get worse than today.

There's an extra skip in my steps as I make my way to the teacher's office. Mrs. Danvers had asked me to see her after school hours, and it's all I could think of throughout the day.

Six thousand dollars for two weeks... That's more than I can save in months of back-to-back babysitting.

Students trudge along the hallway, their voices echoing past as they make their way home. But I'm too lost in my own world to notice when they suddenly go silent.

Humming to myself, I forge ahead. However, my steps slow when I notice a prickling feeling on my skin, like I'm being watched.

I raise my head, and just like that, every warm feeling inside me is squeezed out and replaced by cold dread.

Tyler Brooks stands just ahead of me, flanked by his best friend, Alex Thornton, and the rest of the football team. He looks every bit Westfield High's star quarterback with his wide chest puffed out and his icy blue eyes glinting with dominance as he stares right at me.

Oh, God. Not again.

A slow build of "ooohs" rises through the hallway as everyone stops to watch the latest saga between the king of the school and his lowly servant.

I swallow, quickly scanning the hallway for exits. However, each one is blocked by eager students, and Maya isn't here to save me this time since she had to stay behind for music lessons.

If I want to get to Mrs. Danvers, I'll have to go through him.

So, I suck in a deep breath and bravely take a step forward, then another. For that amount, I will brave the deadliest storm.

Tyler arches a brow and starts walking directly towards me. The pound of his boots against the floor matches my growing heartbeat as we approach each other head on.

"Move. Move, please," I plead internally the closer we get to each other.

When he's only inches away from me, I squeeze my eyes shut as I attempt to make myself smaller. But the collision never comes.

My eyes fly open as I turn to see Tyler walk past me. For one momentary second, he pauses and I feel my heart thump faster. Then, by some miracle, he continues ahead with the team without sparing me a glance.

The confusion I feel is mirrored on the faces of everyone watching. And once they realize nothing is going to happen, they disperse.

Meanwhile, I keep staring at Tyler's back until his form disappears completely. It's like his tripping me in the cafeteria yesterday didn't happen, nor did the years of bullying I've had to endure from him.

Refusing to dwell on anything other than what really matters, I whip my head forward and run the rest of the way to the teachers' office.

"Hey, Lila," Mrs. Danvers greets me with a smile.

"Hi, Mrs. Danvers. You asked to see me?"

"Ah, yes. The babysitting job," she says, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "As I said in my text, the parents are going to be out of town for the next fifteen days, leaving the kids with their older brother..."

I blink. "I'm sorry. Did you say kids?"

Mrs. Danvers' brows furrow in confusion. "Did I forget to mention that? How silly of me." She waves a hand carelessly. "Well, you'll be babysitting two kids."

"But, I... Two kids are a lot."

She leans back in her chair. "Well, why did you think they agreed to pay you that high a sum?"

Usually, I wouldn't balk at the idea of babysitting two kids since it's something I've been doing since I turned fourteen. But for fifteen days?! And with the SATs coming up, I'd barely have enough time for myself.

"Why can't their older brother watch them?" I ask, suddenly remembering that she'd mentioned it.

"Something about football practices," she says dismissively, clasping her hands. "It's worth it, Lila, trust me."

She's not wrong. I'd be a fool not to take the job.

Sighing, I nod. "Okay."

"Great. I'll text you the address," she says, and I bid her goodbye.

I'm walking past the football team's locker room when the sound of raucous laughter stops me in my tracks.

Shouldn't they be on the field by now, practicing?

I contemplate running once again before someone notices me, but a voice cuts through the noise.

"Jake Holland is going to be gunning for your spot, Tyler. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, you'd better up your game next week. We can't afford to lose our QB1," someone else says.

Everyone at Westfield High knows Jake Holland as Tyler's rival. The backup quarterback has made it clear he wants Tyler's spot, which leads to them always fighting. Considering how much the team worships Tyler, you'd think they wouldn't see Jake as a threat.

"We're not going to," Tyler says, his deep voice recognizable amidst the others. And it's that simple.

I snort as I continue on my way home. His arrogance... then again, Tyler Brooks has always been untouchable.

Later that evening, my mind is zeroed in on one thing and one thing only as I stare up at the large, suburban house towering over me.

Sweeping a hand slightly across my well-ironed dress, I lean a bit forward to check myself through the one-way glass window. My brown hair is still pulled into a neat ponytail, and my equally brown eyes portray the right amount of eagerness.

"Good evening, I'm Lila Garcia - the babysitter," I mumble beneath my breath like I've been doing all the way here.

I release a breath and then push the doorbell button. But as I wait patiently to be answered, my eyes swing sideways. Engraved on the mailbox is a name that has been responsible for most of my nightmares...

Brooks.

My smile dies the second the door swings open. Gasping, I stumble back as if burned by the deep scowl currently being aimed at me.

"You!" I whisper, and at the same time, my arch-enemy's scowl morphs into a sinister smile.

Just this Monday, that same smile flashed my way just before I was tripped in the school cafeteria by its owner. Yet, instead of cowering like I normally would, I lift my chin and glare right back.

Icy blue eyes blink back at me, as if in momentary shock, but it only lasts a second. Tyler Brooks raises an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you've added stalking to your nerdy tendencies," he finally says, his deep voice causing me to shiver.

I feel cold sweat break across my forehead, but I curl my fingers tighter around the strap of my purse. "I'm here to... for... um..."

Damn it, Lila! Why must this boy reduce you to a stammering fool every single time?

Tyler snorts, seemingly taking pleasure in my embarrassment. "What are you doing here, Garcia?"

Involuntarily, my fingers loosen their hold on the strap, and my mouth drops open.

He knows my name? Well, my surname, but still... As far as I can remember, Tyler has called me "nerd," "nerdy bookworm," "weirdo," and other creative words synonymous with them.

Narrowing my eyes, I trace them across his face, wondering if he's sick or something. But his smooth, tanned skin has never been clearer. My eyes then wander past his chiseled face, down to the muscles outlined through his snug shirt...

A loud scoff pulls me out of my errant thoughts. "Like what you see, nerd?"

Heat spreads from my neck all over my face. "I'm here to babysit Sophie and Lucas," I try again, thankfully more coherent. "I was told I would be meeting their older brother..."

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" Tyler fires back.

My brows knit together as I shake my head. "I don't understand. I... But you don't have siblings."

Back in ninth grade, I made it my business to know everything I could about Tyler Brooks the minute he and his clique decided I was their new target. Not once did he or anyone in school mention that he had siblings.

"Do you know everything about me then?" he sneers.

Oh, I'm going to kill Mrs. Danvers. For such a chatterbox, she couldn't have mentioned that the family she wanted me to babysit for was the Brooks?

"I can't do this," I whisper more to myself, but he hears me anyway.

"Then turn around and leave, nerd."

Nostrils flaring, I tighten my hands into fists. One punch on his stupid face won't hurt, right?

If only it were that easy. If only his parents, whom I'd only spoken to over the phone, hadn't already paid in full before leaving for their trip. If only I didn't need to save every penny for college. If only walking away now wouldn't brand me as unreliable, because who would hire me then?

Sighing in defeat, I take two steps forward. "Excuse me," I murmur once I'm only inches away from him.

Tyler simply smirks and remains at the doorway, leaving the tiny space beside him for me to squeeze through.

I grit my teeth, reining in all the patience I can muster. "I need to pass," I say, more forcefully.

He shrugs, still not moving an inch. "Aren't you like ninety pounds? I'm sure you can fit."

The nerve of this boy!

"How dare you? I'm a hundred and fifteen pounds," I snap, my voice echoing past the quiet street.

For all my anger, he just stares at me in utter boredom.

Deciding it's not worth it, I release a breath and count to ten in my head. Then, I take one final step and slide in through that tiny space, all the while aware of the heat emanating from his very hard, very broad body.

Just as I'm about to successfully pass through the door, Tyler turns and places one large arm against the door, effectively trapping me between him and the hinges.

I gasp, my heart skipping a beat. "What are you doing?" I manage, even though my throat feels like sandpaper.

He pins his gaze on me, but something flickers in his expression. He draws in a harsh breath, and for a split second, that confident, arrogant mask slips. If I didn't know better, I'd say I hit a nerve.

Tyler gives a small shake of his head and lowers it until his mouth hovers dangerously close to my ear. "This is the point of no return, Garcia," he whispers menacingly, his breath fanning my skin. "You sure you want to do this?"

My stomach drops as my heart begins to pound relentlessly. "Push him, punch him, anything, Lila," a voice inside my head screams. But my hands seem incapable of cooperating.

A loud squeal pierces the house as a dark-haired girl of about six comes barreling towards us, followed by a much calmer boy of the same age.

Tyler immediately jerks away from me, and just like that, I can breathe again.

"Look, Tyler, I drew a kitty," the girl announces, waving a paper with a blotchy, purple-colored drawing on it.

And Tyler, Tyler of all people, smiles. The deep scowl lines around his eyes somehow soften, giving way to an unguarded expression I've never seen – not in school at least.

The little girl turns to me, cocking her head in a way that makes her look eerily similar to Tyler. "Are you our babysitter?" she asks, then smiles cheekily. "You're pretty."

As if remembering my presence, Tyler whips his head in my direction, the smile gone as quickly as it appeared. "These next fifteen days are going to be interesting; don't you think?"

Oh, I'm so screwed.