••chapter twelve••

                                    

                                          
The new neighborhood was welcoming, on the first day staying at our new house my parents and I were invited to a neighbor's house for dinner. Apparently, they worked with my dad and helped us settle in Queens, they had a son my age. Surprisingly, we struck up a small friendship. 
                          
The high school in the Forest Hills neighborhood, Queens, where I live now, was much more welcoming than my old middle school and from what I heard about the high school I was supposed to go to. 
                          
I made friends at school, the only downside was that mom was worried about me staying alone at home all the time, she and dad had work- they were still workaholics, and so mom found a solution. A babysitter. 
                          
I contained myself from rolling my eyes and continued watching from the stairs, Mom was talking to the babysitter she hired for me. 
                          
"...and this is the time I'd like her to go to bed..." 
                          
Me. Fourteen, almost fifteen. Do I need a babysitter? I think not. I understand that mom meant nothing but good for me, after the news of the mass destruction in D.C, they wanted to keep me safe. 
                          
Mom and dad still had to go to work to make money, they couldn't just quit and stay home all day with their daughter. After all, work is basically their life, but at least it's better than alcohol and drugs. Mom and dad did none of that. 
                          
The babysitter had noticeable dark brown hair and soft brown eyes, he was tall but not skinny, and seemingly nice. Mom told me last night that he was the son of a friend at the new hospital she's working at, she told me that he was a college student trying to find a job while managing school work. 
                          
I was sure I've seen him somewhere, I was so sure of myself that began to be doubtful. After the events of the Helicarriers, I've gotten more paranoid, wondering when the HYDRA agents or the government would come knocking at the door. 
                          
I told myself, again and again, to stop being paranoid about everything that happens. I took a deep breath and patted my cheeks, telling myself mentally not to make a fool of myself. 
                          
"Alice!" Mum called my name, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "Come meet Zane." 
                          
I got up from my position on the wooden floor and walked down the stairs, squinting when the light from the tall windows in the living room shined on my eyes. "Hello," I greeted Zane, putting on a smile and shook his hand politely. 
                          
"Okay, well I better get going for my shift. Alice go to bed early, okay? Tomorrow is a school day, bye, honey." Mum kissed me on the forehead before she left through the garage and Zane waved her goodbye, then locked the door. 
                          
"So, you wanna watch a movie? Or do you want some help on homework?" He offered, taking off his backpack and jacket. "I major in mechanical engineering by the way." 
                          
"We'll see," I quickly dismissed, politely. "So what time will you be leaving?" 
                          
"Well, it's twelve right now, and your mom said she'll come home at about eight, we have the whole day ahead of us," He answered, a small smile on his face, I could tell he was trying not to make this awkward. "You want to do anything?" 
                          
I shrugged, not really having a preference. He seemed nice and reliable, maybe striking up a friendship with him won't be that bad. 
                          
We went to the living room and he spotted my canvases on the large coffee table, some blank while some held a beautiful scenery. The one placed on the easel was the one that caught his eye, "Wow, did you paint this?" 
                          
I smiled at the compliment, "Yeah. It's just a hobby. I'll move them to the other room." by the 'other room', I meant my own little studio room, mom wasn't sure what to do with the spare room when we first moved in, and let that be where all my paintings and art supplies are kept. I called it the art room.