Chapter 2 — Pranks and Patience

Marlena

The thing about babysitting someone like Antaios Morgan is that you walk in expecting chaos, but somehow, he still manages to exceed expectations.

I was standing in the middle of what could only be described as a museum of wealth—pristine glass tables that looked like they’d shatter under the weight of a single fingerprint, rugs so plush they could probably double as mattresses—when I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a rubber band snapping.

*Thwip.*

A tiny projectile zipped past my ear, close enough to stir my hair. I froze, my brain processing the trajectory as a second rubber band missile landed on the marble floor with a faint *pat*. Slowly, I turned toward the source.

Antaios was perched on the couch, holding a makeshift rubber band launcher fashioned from a spoon and a hair tie. His green eyes sparkled like he’d just invented fire. “Nice reflexes, Yu,” he said, tone casual, as if we were discussing the weather. “I was aiming for your hoodie string.”

“If you value your life, Morgan,” I said, glaring, “you’ll put that thing down.”

“Oh, come on.” Antaios grinned, leaning back like he didn’t have a care in the world. “We’ve got the whole weekend. Might as well make it interesting.”

I stared at him, trying to decide if murder would void my babysitting fee. “Define ‘interesting.’”

“Relax.” He tossed the spoon and rubber band onto the coffee table, raising his hands in mock surrender. “No permanent damage. Scout’s honor.”

“You’re not a Scout—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ve been over this.” He stood and stretched, his leather bracelet sliding down his wrist. The way he adjusted it absentmindedly caught my eye for a second, though I quickly shook it off. “But seriously, Yu, you don’t have to stand there looking like you’re trying to decipher an alien language. This isn’t some master plan to drive you insane.”

I crossed my arms. “Oh, so the rubber band ambush was just a warm-up?”

“Exactly.” He winked, then sauntered toward the kitchen like he hadn’t just been moments away from making me a human target.

I followed, mostly because I didn’t trust him to be out of my sight for longer than thirty seconds. “Do your parents know this is how you spend your weekends? Terrorizing the help?”

Antaios laughed, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of fizzy water. “First of all, you’re not ‘the help.’ You’re, like, an independent contractor. Second of all—” He cracked the bottle open with a satisfying hiss. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

I leaned against the counter, watching him. There was something infuriatingly effortless about the way he moved, like he was fully aware of how much space he took up in the world and was completely unbothered by it. Meanwhile, I felt like I’d been teleported into a parallel universe where everything was too shiny, too clean, and too much. My scuffed Converse practically screamed *wrong address.*

Antaios took a sip, then gestured toward me with the bottle. “You want one?”

“I’m fine,” I said, even though the carbonation looked kind of tempting. Accepting beverages from Antaios Morgan felt like walking into a trap, even if said trap involved artisanal sparkling water.

“Suit yourself.” He leaned against the opposite counter, studying me with an expression that made me feel like I was under a microscope. “So, Yu, what’s the plan? Gonna spend the weekend glaring at me, or are we actually going to have some fun?”

“That depends on your definition of ‘fun,’” I shot back. “Because if it involves me cleaning up after one of your stunts, I’m out.”

“No stunts,” he promised, holding up his hands again. “Scout’s honor.”

“Stop saying that. It’s meaningless coming from you.”

He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the marble countertops. “Fine. Let’s make a deal, then. If I pull a prank, you can leave. No questions asked.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Just pure, unfiltered honesty.” He tilted his head, that lopsided grin back in full force. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Not even a little.”

“Fair.” He pushed off the counter, setting the empty bottle in the sink with an ease that made me suspect he’d never had to load a dishwasher in his life. “But you’ll come around. They always do.”

“‘They’ who?”

“Everyone.” He shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m very convincing.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t fall out of my skull. “You’re something, all right.”

Before he could respond, a loud crash echoed from somewhere upstairs. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned toward the sound. “What was that?”

Antaios looked equally startled, which was somehow even more alarming. “Uh... I have no idea.”

We both hesitated for a second before he grabbed a broom from the pantry and held it like a sword. “Stay behind me.”

“Wow, chivalry isn’t dead after all,” I said, even as I followed him toward the staircase.

“Hey, you’re the babysitter. Technically, this is your responsibility.”

“I’m here to babysit *you*, not whatever poltergeist you’ve got haunting this place.”

He snorted, climbing the staircase with an exaggerated swagger. “Relax, Yu. It’s probably just the wind.”

We reached the second floor, where the sound of something scuttling made my skin crawl. Antaios froze, raising the broom like he actually thought he could take on a ghost. “Okay, maybe it’s not the wind.”

“Ya think?”

He crept toward one of the guest rooms, motioning for me to stay back. I ignored him, sticking close enough that I could use him as a human shield if necessary. He pushed the door open slowly, revealing—

“A raccoon?” I blurted, staring at the small, furry intruder currently rifling through a bowl of fruit on the dresser.

Antaios lowered the broom, his expression turning from cautious to amused in record time. “Well, look at that. Guess we’ve got a guest.”

“This isn’t funny!” I hissed, even as the raccoon grabbed an apple and scampered toward the window. “What if it bites someone?”

“Relax. It’s just a raccoon.” He leaned against the doorframe, thoroughly unbothered. “Besides, it looks like it’s leaving.”

Sure enough, the raccoon hopped onto the windowsill, apple in hand, and disappeared into the night. I stared after it, my brain struggling to process what just happened.

“Well,” Antaios said, clapping his hands together. “Crisis averted. Great teamwork, Yu.”

I glanced back at the window, noting the latch hanging askew. “It got in through here, didn’t it? You should probably fix that before it invites more friends.”

Antaios blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it. Good catch, Yu.”

I didn’t expect him to agree so quickly, and his uncharacteristic seriousness caught me off guard. The way he fiddled with the latch, almost absentmindedly, made me wonder if the raccoon wasn’t the only one who found this house unwelcoming.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered as we headed back downstairs.

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, though his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

We sat in silence for a few minutes after returning to the living room, the sound of explosions and dramatic music from the TV filling the space. As I stole a glance at him, I noticed the way his shoulders slumped just a little, like the weight of the world had finally started to show.

Maybe he wasn’t trying to drive me crazy. Maybe he really was just... lonely.

Not that I’d ever say that out loud.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “Is this what your weekends usually look like? Terrorizing babysitters and chasing raccoons out of your house?”

He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Pretty much. You’re a natural, by the way.”

I rolled my eyes again, but this time, I didn’t bother hiding my smile. Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.