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MidReal Story
Tempted by My Mom’s Friend
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."
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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
"See you later, honey," my mom kissed me on the cheek before she and dad climbed into the taxi.
"Have fun at school and behave yourself," dad waved at me and smiled.
He trusted me completely, so there was no need to tell me to not have girls or boys over while they were away.
I'd never do anything to disappoint them anyway.
I watched the taxi drive off before I turned and walked back to the front door of our house.
Veronica was already inside; she had let my parents out.
She was a good friend of my mom's, and they had asked her to house sit while they were away on vacation for the next two weeks.
I didn't have a problem with that, but I wasn't told until the previous day, which was why I had all my clothes strewn about my bedroom floor as I tried to pack.
"Christine, what are you doing?"
Veronica came into my bedroom, her striking blue hair pulled back into a bun.
"I was just packing some stuff."
I bent down to pick up a pair of pajamas from the floor.
"You don't have to do that," she told me, coming into the room.
"They're my clothes..."
I looked up at her confused.
"I'll just tell you when I need something. Okay?"
She nodded.
I stood there frozen, holding my pajamas as I studied her expression.
She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest.
She was wearing a black tank top and leggings that were a little too small for her.
Her eyes were on me, but they were distant, almost like she was thinking about something else.
The sun was shining through my window, casting shadows across her face.
"Okay," I finally said, setting my pajamas back down on the bed.
Veronica pushed off from the doorframe and took a step closer to me.
The floorboard creaked under her foot.
"Is something wrong?"
She looked around my room, her eyes taking in all the clothes scattered on the floor and the unmade bed.
She walked over to my dresser, running her finger along the edge of it.
I stood there frozen near my suitcase as I watched her move around the room.
"Your parents really do trust me," she said, picking up a framed photo of our family from last summer.
She set it back down and took another step toward me.
She was wearing perfume that was sweet and heavy.
It filled my nose as she moved closer to me.
I backed up until I hit the wall, and then she reached out to touch my hair.
"Such pretty curls," she whispered, her voice low and husky.
"Why are you acting so strange, Veronica?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Let's just say your parents and I have an understanding," she replied cryptically, her fingers still playing with a curl.
I swallowed hard.
"What do you mean?"
I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
She let go of my curl, but she didn't step back.
She was still standing right in front of me, her body trapping me against the wall.
Her fingers trailed down to my shoulder, playing with a curl there.
"Oh sweetie," she said, leaning in closer to me, "they know exactly what I like."
My stomach rolled as she leaned in closer to me, her perfume filling my nose.
I tried to duck under her arm, but she caught me with her other hand against the wall.
"And what I like," she whispered into my ear, "is pretty young things with beautiful hair."
I grabbed her wrist and pushed it away from me.
She stepped back, her eyes narrowing as she studied me, and then she smiled—a smile that promised this was far from over.