The Babysitter

Chapter 38
The Babysitter, Part 38

Part 38

The fact that Noelle barely reacted was almost more embarrassing than if she had been amused at the fact that I was wearing underwear normally reserved for much younger girls. 

Instead, she just briefly looked me up and down, then walked over to double check that she had picked the right size. I tried to tell her that they were fine, but she merely ignored me and fussed over the waistband for a few seconds before slipping her fingers between the stretchy material and my skin. “You’re going to need a second layer, Miley,” she concluded, “I’m worried these won’t stay up if you have an accident.”

Wait, what? “I’m not going to have an accident!” I insisted. Also, a single pull-up already felt so much awkward and bulky than panties did. I had to assume a second one would be worse. 

Looking down at me with a small scowl, Noelle asked, “Are you arguing with me?”

“No!” I exclaimed, even more quickly than I had protested about the extra pull-up. Not arguing. Not when doing so could end up with me over the brunette’s knee and/or with Paige learning about my current underwear situation. “I’m just-” Trying to have a mature conversation. Trying to point out that I’m way too old to have accidents during the day. Trying to avoid wearing something that would probably end up being noticeable through my somewhat tight shorts. 

“It sounds like you’re arguing,” Noelle said, “Try this instead, Miley. ‘Yes, Noelle. I trust that you know what’s best for me.’”

Was she serious? It would feel ridiculous to echo something like that, so I just muttered, “Okay. I’ll try on another one.”

“Because you trust that I know what’s best for you . . . ?”

She was being serious. Ugh. “Yes, Noelle,” I reluctantly nodded. My cheeks were definitely flushing as I said the patronizing words, “You know what’s best for me.”

“That’s what I thought.” She walked over to her duffel bag and procured a pull-up identical to the one I was wearing. Rather than handing it to me, she came back over and crouched down. Giving a pat to my ankle, she said, “Lift.” 

Cringing internally, I did as I was told without much hesitation. Since we had literally just had a conversation about arguing, I knew better than to fight on a hill that I’d probably just end up losing on anyway. Noelle’s whole babysitting tactic here was to weaponize the pull-ups in order to make me behave. If I failed to do so before they were even fully on, I’d be risking any number of punishments. 

She slipped my first foot into the appropriate leg hole and made short work of doing the same with the other. Rather than letting me contribute to the process in the slightest, she pulled the babyish underwear all the way up my legs herself. My body was slightly jostled as she worked the second layer over the padding that was already on me, and it wasn’t long before I was officially wearing double pull-ups. “There,” she said. After making sure it was sitting perfectly on my waist, she stepped back to give me another once-over. “How does that feel?”

Humiliating. Too thick. Beyond awkward for a girl who’s used to wearing regular underwear. “Fine,” I said. The cliché response when you want to complain but you can’t. As I shifted my weight from foot to foot, it didn’t take me long to realize that my thighs were no longer able to fully touch. I’d still be able to walk normally, but I would feel the padding between them every step of the way. 

“Good,” she nodded. On the same page as I was a minute ago, she said, “Well, I doubt those shorts will fit any more. Maybe you can change into them after lunch? For now, why don’t you go pick out something else.” 

At least she wasn’t patronizing me to the point of picking out my clothes for me. I reminded myself that Miley’s babysitter wasn’t doing any of this to outright embarrass me or overtly treat me like a tween like Paige had been doing. Noelle just literally believed that I was our neighbor girl’s age, and was methodically taking away the disrespectful and rebellious attitude she was under the impression that I had. 

As for the shorts, I doubted I would wear them later. It would look a bit suspicious to change halfway through the day, even if no one else knew about the pull-ups. Luckily, I had a white summer skirt that was comparable to the other outfit piece. Unluckily, it was a little bit on the shorter side. I gave myself a skeptical look as I twisted and turned. One wrong move, especially while sitting down, and there would be a risk of flashing the pull-ups to anyone looking my way. 

I didn’t get a chance to look for an alternative option, however. “Get moving, Miley. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“But-”

“I’m not going to ask again. Oh, and grab your lines, will you?”

She wasn’t going to make me keep writing those, was she? Then again, it wasn’t much of a reach. I had only completed half the task before being put to bed, and Noelle’s no-nonsense approach to both keeping me in line and reforming ‘Miley’ to some degree meant that I wouldn’t put it past her to see something like that through. 

When I approached the hallway door with pen in hand and papers tucked under my arm, Noelle held up her index finger, “Do you remember what you need to do in order to earn your mature underwear back?” she asked. 

Kind of? She hadn’t been very specific. With last night’s lines fresh in my mind, I answered with a paraphrased version of what I had written 500 times. “I’m going to behave, and tell the truth . . . ?” I couldn’t help the uptick, as I wasn’t fully confident about what she was fishing for. 

“You’re going to show me that you can be a proper young lady,” she clarified. The moment she said it, I remembered the phrase from earlier. In my defense, I had been rather distracted about the fact that she thought it appropriate to put me in pull-ups. Going on, she explained, “That means politely greeting your sister and her friends, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ and proving that you can have a good attitude when you put your mind to it. Can you manage that, Miley?”

Questionable. Paige and her girlfriends were annoying enough to deal with on an average day. After everything they put me through yesterday, as well as the fact that I was /still/ being babysat, I doubted they would make Noelle’s directive easy for me. I could already see their smirks and knowing glances without even being downstairs yet. “Uh huh,” I muttered. It was the best I could do. Telling the truth was impossible when half the ‘truth’ was bullshit and the other half was completely uncertain without knowing what the coming morning would look like. 

“I hope so,” she replied, “Because it’s going to be an additional hour in those pull-ups whenever you misbehave or show the slightest trace of disrespect to anyone. Got it?” Noelle didn’t wait for me to affirm that I had processed her daunting terms. She just opened the door and led the way out to the hall. 

Leaving the safety and privacy of my room immediately put me on edge. Although I had triple checked that my mortifying underwear was well concealed by the skirt whilst standing, I felt practically bottomless nonetheless. Someone would notice, somehow. I was in a sort of trance as I followed Noelle. Turning around was out of the question, as my mission for the next few hours was to be on my best behavior. That meant letting Noelle take me downstairs without dragging my feet. 

To my surprise, the other girls were already awake. 

I could hear their voices below as we approached the stairs. Last time I checked, Paige and her friends usually stayed up so late that they ended up sleeping in until almost noon. While I wasn’t sure what time it was without my phone, the angle of the sun in my bedroom was enough to inform me that it was earlier rather than later. Was their presence downstairs in response to the unexpected events of this weekend, or had they merely gone to bed at a more reasonable hour? I didn’t want to overthink it, though I also wanted to brace myself for being outnumbered almost immediately.

Casually gripping my skirt on its banister side, taking an extra precaution in case anyone was close to the stairs, I made a conscious effort to take each step how I normally would. For whatever reason, walking down was slightly less natural in the pull-ups than walking forward was. 

There was no mystery as to where Paige and her friends were; they were all sitting in the living room and chatting about one of their games. Almost all of them had a mug either in hand or nearby, and they noticed Noelle’s descent almost instantly. “Morning!” Paige chirped, “Want me to put on a fresh pot for you? I think Dakota finished off the last one. Oh hey, Miley!”

I couldn’t stay invisible for long, considering I was more or less taking Noelle’s pace. Grimacing at yet another reinforcement of the false name and briefly narrowing my eyes at my step-sister, I forced myself to soften into a more nonchalant expression before Noelle noticed. This was me being thrown into the deep end, as I still wasn’t sure how I was going to pull off a good attitude towards Paige. I settled on a neutral, “Good morning.” More polite than the shortened version, without going far enough that one of the other girls would notice. 

“I don’t mind making my own,” Noelle replied, “Have you had breakfast yet? I was going to whip something up for me and Miley while she gets some work done in the kitchen.”

“Just coffee,” Paige said, “Do you need any help?” 

As usual, I could see right through her. The only time she wasn’t lazy was when it benefited her in some way. 

Noelle gave a small shake of her head. “That’s okay. You girls relax. I’m getting paid for all this; might as well let your parents get their money’s worth.” 

Paige shrugged, “You should get a raise. Miley can be quite the handful!” 

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