Chapter Text
I heard music coming from my backpack and went digging for my phone. Sure enough it was the theme from Star Wars, my ringtone for numbers I didn't know.
I answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, did you put up fliers advertising babysitting?”
“Yes.” I said, digging out a pencil and paper.
“I'm Ms. Thomas, I need a babysitter for two children, my 1 year old girl and a 3 year old boy who belongs to Miss Kishi. Can you tell me a little about yourself?”
“Well, my name is Kala Grover. I'm 13. I've been babysitting for my cousins for years, and in the past year I started sitting for kids in the neighborhood.”
“Your flier mentioned references?”
“Yup. You can contact my aunt, Neela Grover, or Mrs. Tymkiw.” I rattled off the numbers. Aunt Neela has five kids, between the ages of 1 and 8. Mrs. Tymkiw has a 10 year old and a 7 year old. I figured between the two of them it would show I can handle any age.
“Well, I'll give them a call. If they check out, the job would be on Friday night from 6 to 9. I'll pay you $20. Are you available?”
“I am. But I need to check with my mom. She likes to know before I take new clients, and she might want to call and talk to you.”
“That makes sense. Let me give you my cellphone number.”
She said a number, which I wrote down, and said her name was Kristy Thomas, and she was a lawyer in Stamford if mom wanted to know.
“I'll call you back this evening and let you know.”
“Thanks, Kala.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas, and have a great day.”
I grinned as I hung up the phone. $20 would put a dent in my comic subscriptions.
I called my mom right away. She works at an insurance agency, and she was at her desk, so she picked up.
“Hey, mom. It's Kal. So, someone new called asking me to babysit. Her name is Ms. Thomas, and I want to let her know tonight.”
“We'll talk when I get home.” She said in Hindi. She and dad both grew up in India, so they preferred to speak it when they could. “Does Mrs. Newton know her?”
Mrs. Newton is my friend Emma's mom. Emma has an older brother the same age as one of my brothers, and we met right after my family moved here from Virginia, when I was 7. The Newton's have lived around here a lot longer then we have, so mom asks Mrs. Newton when she wants to know if something is safe, or if a family is okay to babysit for.
“I haven't asked. I'll go over and see.” I replied in Hindi.
“Good, do that after your homework.”
“Okay. I'll see you later.”
We hung up, and I pulled out my books, when my phone rang again. This time it said “One does not simply walk into Mordor. . .” so I knew it was Jan.
I've been friends with Emma longer, but these days I'm closer to Janica Snowden. She plays on the same MMO that I do, and we both like comic books and sci-fi movies. Emma and I have more similar families, we're both the youngest children, and we both have older brothers in college. I have an older brother in high school, and she has an older sister there. Jan just has a little sister who's nine.
Jan and I dress more alike. We both have long hair that we pull back casually, mine is black and hers is brown. And we both wear mostly t-shirts with comic characters or funny sayings, and jeans. Emma says that sometimes the only way you can tell us apart is that my skin is a lot darker then Jan's. Emma has shorter blonde hair that she wears down, and her style is more trendy, like fancy jeans with butterflies on the back pocket and tight t-shirts.
“I bombed my math test.” Jan groaned as soon as I said hello.
“How bad?”
“Bad. Miranda level bad. My math test created Reavers. There will be a government cover up to keep the 'verse from knowing just how bad I flunked this test.”
I laughed, “School should be exciting tomorrow.”
“What do I tell my mom?”
“That you're having trouble in math?” I said. Jan always confused me with things like this. She made them a much bigger deal then they needed to be. It was cool when it was something fun, because she got really excited. But when it was something bad, she seemed to think it was the end of the world.
“She'll ground me. No more comic books, no more babysitting, no more Supernatural marathon sleepovers, no more game. No life, ever, until I graduate.”
I sighed. “Here's the plan. Tell her I'll tutor you. That way she sees that you're trying, and we can still hang out and do homework even if she cuts you off of other things.”
“That might work. . . thanks.”
“No prob. I've got homework to do, but I'm headed to Emma's later. Want to come?”
“Sure. Give me a call.”