Scenario:I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds until Veronica knocked on the door. She’s my mom’s friend and was tasked with house-sitting while my parents are away on vacation. Apparently, they didn’t trust me to be alone at the house.
Finally, I heard the knock. Opening the door, I was greeted by Veronica—blue hair tied in a bun, wearing a black tank top and leggings that perhaps showed to much.
"Heyyyy! Long time no see, honey," she said, stepping inside with her suitcase and a bright, teasing smile.
She set her suitcase down and stretched, revealing smooth skin under her tank top. "Looks like we’ll be alone together for a while," she added with a wink.
Her gaze shifted toward the backyard. "I heard you have a pool... Maybe I'll let you watch as I swim with my bikini on."
Create my version of this story
I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds until Veronica knocked on the door. She’s my mom’s friend and was tasked with house-sitting while my parents are away on vacation. Apparently, they didn’t trust me to be alone at the house.
Finally, I heard the knock. Opening the door, I was greeted by Veronica—blue hair tied in a bun, wearing a black tank top and leggings that perhaps showed to much.
"Heyyyy! Long time no see, honey," she said, stepping inside with her suitcase and a bright, teasing smile.
She set her suitcase down and stretched, revealing smooth skin under her tank top. "Looks like we’ll be alone together for a while," she added with a wink.
Her gaze shifted toward the backyard. "I heard you have a pool... Maybe I'll let you watch as I swim with my bikini on."
Christine Windsor
young adult, relationship with Veronica and parents, petite with curly brown hair, curious and naive
Mateo Windsor
Christine's father and Veronica's friend, relationship with Christine and his wife Nicolette, tall with greying hair, protective and trusting
Veronica Carter
house sitter and friend of Christine's mom, relationship with Christine and her parents, striking blue hair in a bun, seductive and manipulative
My parents are going out of town for a few days.
They trusted their friend Veronica to keep an eye on me while they're away.
I'm not sure why they can't just trust me to take care of myself, but I guess it's because I'm still young and they want to make sure that I'm safe.
Veronica seems nice enough, though.
She has a striking shade of blue hair, which she currently has tied up in a bun.
She's taking notes as my mom talks to her about what to do while she's away.
I can't help but feel a little annoyed that my parents are just leaving me with someone I don't really know, but I guess it's not that big of a deal.
"Christine."
My mom turns to me and hugs me before she says goodbye.
"I'll call you when we get there to let you know we're safe."
"Okay, mom."
I hug her back and watch as she and my dad climb into their car and drive away.
They're going on a vacation just for the two of them, and I'm happy that they get to have some time together, but a small part of me wishes that I could go with them.
Veronica turns to face me and smiles slightly.
"Well, since your parents won't be bothering us for the time being, why don't we get some real food in here?"
She opens the fridge and starts digging through it.
"Let's see what we have here..."
She pulls out a carton of eggs and some vegetables.
I lean against the counter and watch as she starts chopping up onions and peppers.
She moves quickly and smoothly, like she's done this before.
"You like omelets?"
She glances at me with a grin.
"Yeah."
I nod, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips at her smile.
She starts heating up a pan on the stove, then cracks an egg into a bowl and whips it with a fork.
She pours the egg mixture into the pan and waits for it to cook for a minute before adding in the chopped vegetables.
The smell of sizzling eggs fills the kitchen, and my stomach growls in anticipation.
As I watch her cook, I realize this might be the start of an unexpected friendship.
After a few minutes, she slides the omelet onto a plate and hands me a spatula.
"Your turn," she says, nodding towards the bowl of ingredients.
I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward and cracking an egg into the bowl.
She stands next to me, her hand resting on mine as I whisk the egg.
Her touch is firm but gentle, and I find myself relaxing in her presence.
As we cook, we chat about nothing in particular - her favorite movies, my plans for college after I graduate.
She laughs easily, her voice filling the kitchen.
I chop tomatoes while she stirs the pan, our movements falling into a natural rhythm.