The remainder of my babysitting duties is spent in front of the TV watching whatever obnoxiously bright, random kid's show Clifford has on. I'm only partially listening/watching, though, since I'm fiddling around on my computer.

    Apparently, the only time Clifford is quiet is when focusing on the television. Doesn't bother me in the slightest- as long as I know he's breathing, we're dandy.

    I can tell Xalale doesn't know what to do with himself. He resides in the kitchen until about 7, when Mrs. Mershire is due to return.

    I pop in there once or twice to check on him since I'm sure it's not the wisest idea to let someone new to dangerous cooking machines linger around them without careful supervision. Most of time he's not doing anything, just sitting at the table thinking to himself. One time he was inspecting the fridge, studying all the contents inside.

   "Don't hold the door open for too long," I warned. "It's crappy enough already."

   "I'm not understanding how it can be a different, colder temperature in here than in the house." He ponders aloud, still holding the door open.

   "Magic." I closed the door before any more cold escapes.

    Narrowing his eyes at me, he sits back at the table again, the wonder leaving his eyes.

   "Clifford's mom is going to be here soon so you might want to hang out in my room for the rest of the night."

    He resumed his meditative thinking, seemingly ignoring my comment. But the next time I ventured into the kitchen he had gone.

    Promptly at 7pm, I hear the sound of a car approaching the house. I greet Mrs. Mershire at the door, inviting her in to discuss the day.

    "So, was Clifford well-behaved?" She asks. "He didn't talk your ear off did he?"

    I sigh but smile. "Well, he sure does like to ask questions but overall he was manageable."

   "Good, good."

    She pulls out a wad of cash from her purse as we stand by the door waiting for Clifford to turn off the TV and come out.

    "There you go, 25 total."

    Her painfully crooked smile widened as Clifford finally emerges from the family room.

    "Wasn't too bad, right?" She asks him.

    "No, I guess not."

    I notice him frown slightly and lean past me into the kitchen. He's trying to find Xalale I assume, but I pray he keeps his mouth shut about him.

    "Well, I guess we'll see you tomorrow, Mallory. Tell your parents I said hello, alright?"

    She takes Clifford's hand and leads him outside to their car. Clifford gives me a little wave goodbye before closing the back door.

    I watch them pull out until they turn and head down the lonely road back to town.

   "Did she just say tomorrow? As in do this all over again for a second time?"

   Oh God, kill me now.

   I'm whipped after just one day- one terrible start day. Grant it the whole day didn't play out like that, but it seems every time Xalale is added to the equation life gets that much harder.

   What were we supposed to do about getting him home? What about the game plan that hasn't even been fully developed yet?

   "What about it?" I think closing the door, releasing a heavy sigh. "I'm exhausted and all I want to do is eat and sleep."

    And that's exactly what I do. Preheating the oven, I pull out a frozen pizza and stick it in once the oven is done preheating. While that's going, I head to the bathroom and undress to take a nice relaxing shower. I have no shame in using up all the hot water, and by the time I'm drying off, the room feels more like a sauna than anything else.

    The timer I took into the bathroom tells me the pizza still has a few more minutes till it will be ready, so I'm in no rush to lotion up and change into my pajamas.

    "Wait-"

     I'm apparently slower than molasses because I completely forgot to bring my pajamas into the bathroom with me. Now if this was a normal, home alone situation, I would have no qualms about walking into my room and changing there, but I'm not home alone. I can hope he's not still in my room, but I'm sure that's just wishful thinking- of course he'll be there.

    "I'm not dressing in my dirty clothes." I think wrapping a towel around me. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

     I brave out of the warm, sauna like bathroom into the shockingly colder house to stand outside my door.

    "Please don't open the door, please don't open the door."

    Knocking on my own door, I wait impatiently for a response.

    "Xalale." I call, wrapping the towel tighter.

    "What?"

    "I need you to hand me my night clothes. They should be on the edge of my bed, or the floor."

     A brief silence passes and I crane trying to listen to any activity behind the door.

    "Why don't you come in here and get it yourself." He responds somewhat annoyed.

     I exhale frustratingly,"I can't. Are they on the bed or floor? If not then check on my dresser or in my dirty bin under my bed. It's a tank top and a pair of sweats."

    A few seconds pass and this time I do hear movement behind the door. He searches for a while then calls out again.

   "I don't know what to look for, just come in and get it yourself."

   "It's a navy blue tank top and grey sweats."

   "What the hell are sweats?"

   "Jesus," I mutter.

   "You know what, just close your eyes, I'm coming in. Make sure they're close." I wait before barging in, giving him time to close his eyes. I'm covered by the towel but I still feel exposed.

   "Are you naked?" He asks.

   "Yes, now cover your eyes, I'm coming in." The chill of the air is getting to me now.

    Opening the door, I enter the room, hoping he has his eyes closed. He does, fortunately, and I begin scrounging the room for my night clothes.

    "It would have been wise of you to take them with you when going to bathe." He comments.

   I shoot him a look that he can't see.

    "I forgot. I forget a lot, okay?"

    I grumble to myself as I continue to search for the garments. My room is messier than I thought, and the extra mattress on the floor doesn't help.

     "Where did I toss it this morning? I mean, I was in a rush but not that frantic."

    "When am I allowed to open my eyes?"

    "Not yet."

     "Screw it." I give up and rummage around in my dresser for a different set of night clothes to wear.

    "You seem to have forgotten that I have seen you naked before," He says coyly.

     Blushing, I also grimace at the memory.

     "Yeah, you got me drunk that night."

     "You were the one refilling your cup, not me."

     An amused smirk had crept its way on his face, causing me to roll my eyes.

     "Oh, amused, aren't you?" I scoff and continue pulling out various clothes that could be used as night clothes. "You were the one offering the drink. I told you I didn't drink."

     "Yes, I tempted you so hard." He mocks. "All I said was I didn't enjoy drinking alone and you gave in."

     "Why is his memory so damn good? I'm over here looking high and low for my pajamas I threw somewhere this morning and he remembers what we said like a week ago."

    "Well, you didn't have to take me to your room." I shoot back.

     Smelling an old shirt stored way in the back, I decide it's clean enough to wear for one night. I slip it on and begin searching for something to wear on the bottom.

     "If I recall correctly, you told me you didn't want to be alone." He counters.

     "Why are you in such a good mood tonight?" I question. "Are you drunk? Because that's the only time you seem to be less of a prick."

      I meant for my words to shut him up, but instead, he continues in his coquettish manner.

     "You're rather pleasant yourself when you're drunk."

     "Ignoring now."

     A teal pair of old gym shorts fits the bill and I can finally drop the towel completely.

     "Alright, you can open your eyes."

     Just as he's opening his eyes, the timer beeps signaling the pizza is done.

     "Be right back."

     I hurry into the kitchen and pull out the golden-crusted pizza. Slicing it up (not evenly), I plate a slice for me and Xalale and return to my room.

     "Here," I hand him the plate then sit on my bed to chow down. "This is pizza by the way. God's gift to humanity."

     "Oh how I've missed this."

     I'm happily enjoying my slice when I look down at Xalale who's looking at the thing like it's a cockroach.

     "You like this kind food?" He asks dubiously.

     "Oh my gosh, don't judge it by what it looks like, just eat it."

      I wait expectantly for the look of disgust to be wiped off his face once he tries what he's been missing, but I'm proven wrong when the look deepens.

     "That's disgusting." He sets the plate aside.

     "What!?" My mind is boggled by him. "You're delusional! How can you not like pizza!?"

     "How can you like it. I've never tasted something so tasteless."

     "This is proof by God that he's not my true love. How can my true love not like pizza?"

     "Wow. Wow is all I can say. I'm like speechless."

      I reach down and take his piece (waste not, want not).

     "Well, what are you gonna eat?" I ask. "You can have cereal."

     "What's that?"

      Sliding off the bed, I wave for him to follow and head to the kitchen. Rummaging around in the pantry, I pull out three boxes of cereal- that aren't expired.

      "Pick one."

      "I still am not understanding what it is."

      I take another slice of pizza. "Trust me, I'm not giving you poison."

      He picks Trix- one of my personal favorites- and so I pull out a bowl to pour it in. I leave just enough so it won't overflow when I add the milk. Peering into the fridge, I'm relieved we actually have enough milk left and proceed to fill the bowl.

     "What are you doing?"

     I stop, "What do you mean? Pouring the milk."

     "Why?"

      He's giving me a similar look I received one time babysitting a snooty little girl in a nearby town. I thought it nice to bring along some snacks for her to eat and offered her some. Apparently, she only snacked on the best of the best, not Doritos or Lays. She looked offended as if I offered her a mud pie. The absolute disdain she wore on her face could be matched with the one Xalale is giving me.

     "You're going to eat dry cereal?" I question.

     "Is it custom to use milk with it?"

     "Um yeah. I mean why would you want to eat dry cereal?"

     "You have strange meal customs."

     "Trust me, it'll taste ten times better with milk."

      I continue to pour until there's enough, then put back the milk and retrieve a spoon for him.

     "This better than pizza, right?"

      I shrug and go for another slice. "You tell me."

      He has a brief moment of hesitation- as if I'm asking him to try calamari- but tries it anyway.

     "Well?" I wait for his reaction.

      He sets the spoon down and gives me a sour look. "I should learn not to trust you regarding food."

      I'm floored. "Really!? Even infants like cereal!"

     "I will say, I at least knew the pizza was edible. I'm not sure this is."

     "You're unbelievable." My mind is blown. I've babysat the pickiest of the pickiest and even they aren't as picky as Xalale.

     "What are you going to eat then?" I ask as he gets up from the table. "You're going to starve before you get home."

     "Do you have anything simple?"

     "Pizza is simple! Cereal is the simplest item there is! What do you mean simple!?"

      I really am just blown away. What do you give somebody who doesn't even eat cereal!?

      He gives me a slightly exasperated look before turning to head back to my room.

      "Do you like crackers?" I ask causing him to stop.

      He doesn't respond, but I begin rummaging in the pantry for some anyway. Nothing could be more simple than crackers.

      Setting the box of salty crackers down, I open the fridge again, looking for something else. I come out with string cheese- another painfully simple food.

      I present the items to him. "Cheese and crackers. God help me if you don't like this because there is literally nothing more simple than this."

      Tossing me a skeptical glance then reaches into the box for a cracker. He doesn't make a disgusted face after he chews it so it must've passed the test. The cheese receives the same indifferent reaction.

     "Better?" I ask.

     "It will do."

      I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God. Let's go back to my room. You can take that with you."

     We return to my room where I open my laptop to surf the web a bit. He sits with his back against the bed. There's nothing too interesting to do, so I entertain myself with some funny quotes and autocorrect fails.

     "So, what is this place called?"

      I'm interrupted by Xalale, who's observing the window- or the view outside the window.

     "This place? Like the town? Cauldron."

      He shakes his head. "No, this planet."

     "Earth."

       He becomes silent again and I refocus my attention on my screen, stifling a few snickers of laughter.

      "What's your favorite color?"

      "Huh?"

       I peer around the computer to look down at him. He's not meeting my gaze.

      "What's your favorite color?"

       "If I knew Clifford would rub off on him, I wouldn't have introduced either of them to each other. Still shouldn't have, seeing how today went."

       This is an uncharacteristic question from Xalale- it takes me back a little.

       "I like pink, but I also like white and silver as well," I say this all with suspicion laced in my voice.

      "Oh." Is all he says.

     "Why are you acting weird tonight?"

     This time, he does look at me.

     "What are you talking about?"

     "You're acting different," I make a face. "It's kind of odd."

     "More like unnerving."

      Hostility returns to his eyes and I sense it in the way he abruptly looks away. That surprises me even more than his sudden question. His actions tonight are making me suspicious, but he's already pissed again so I leave him to simmer.

       "What's his deal?"

      By this time I'm used to this, so I resume my Internet search of funny content. After a few minutes, he gets up and leaves the room, probably going to the bathroom or something. I don't worry about it and begin watching a video.

     A few seconds fly by and I'm interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by my father's deep voice calling out.

     "I'm home."

     Pausing the video, I go to greet him with a hug and kiss.

     "Hey, Mal." He sets his work bag down on the kitchen table. "How's it going?"

     "Alright. How was work?"

     "Tiring. Your mom not home?"

     "Nope."

     He spots the pizza I made and takes a slice for himself.

     I check the time on the microwave clock. 9:47. Suddenly, looking at the time makes me feel drowsy. It feels like I've been up since the crack of dawn and now all I want to do is collapse in bed and let my mind drift.

     "I'm hitting the John." My thoughts are interrupted by my dad's voice. "We got any good reading material?"

     "Yeah, some magazines and a newspaper on the coffee table," I say absentmindedly, already turning to head back to my room.

     "Alright."

      It's only once he leaves the room that my slow mind catches up to the situation.

     "Wait! Xalale's in the house somewhere!"

      Flying into the family room, I position myself in the way that leads to the bathroom door.

      "Hey, dad, I need a favor," I say, trying to act natural.

       He stops and looks at me with a questioning face, "Sure. What is it?"

      "Um..."

       "Make up an excuse, make up an excuse."

       "Mom told me this morning to get something from the shed, but I forgot since Clifford was over. She really needs it she said, but it's dark out now..." I give my best daddy's-little-girl face. "Can you go get it for me please?"

      He sighs, "Alright, but after I use the bathroom. I really need to go."

      I tense, not budging as I scramble to come up with another diversion.

     "Which bathroom are you using?"

      He gives me that look whenever I say something purely ridiculous. "Well the only bathroom we have, Mal. You're acting real silly tonight."

      I laugh trying to buy Xalale some time. "I know, I guess I'm just tired. Didn't sleep too good last night."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah."

     "You better get to bed earlier tonight then." He goes to move around me and I'm all out of ideas, so I trail behind him.

     "Yeah, I think I will."

     We arrive at the bathroom door and I have no choice but to stand by as my dad opens the door. I wait for him to cry out in shock, but instead he mumbles.

     "Left the light on in the bathroom again, Mal. Remember to turn it off when you're done with it."

     "Huh?"

      He closes the door before I have a chance to response.

     "Where's Xalale?"

      I walk back to my room, but he's not there either. I know he's not in the kitchen or family room since I was just there. I'm stumped as to where he would be and am about to search the house until I glance out my window.

       "What's he doing out there."

      I'm more annoyed than worried right now and head to the front door to slip outside.

      The grass is a soft padding under my feet as I make my way to the edge of the meadow where the woods begin. He's leaning against a tree, staring into the forest when I stop a few feet from him.

     "What are you doing?"

      He must sense my slight exasperation but doesn't look at me when responding flatly.

     "Nothing."

      For some reason (God only knows) he seems angry at me. I'm not in the mood for it tonight and instead sigh, running my hands through my hair- which is sure to cause tangling.

     "Why don't you do nothing inside? Come inside before my mom gets home."

      He pushes himself off the tree and glances back into the woods before walking pass me back to the house. I follow suit, tired and drained.

      We sneak inside without alerting my dad, who's still occupied in the bathroom, and settle in my room. Several minutes later, I hear my mom enter the house and go to greet her. She's exhausted and gives me a quick kiss, ask how my day was, grabs a slice of pizza, and retires in her room for the rest of the night. Ten minutes later, my dad goes back as well and the lights in the house go out.

      I go with my parents' idea and slip into bed.

      "I don't know about you, but I'm whipped," I turn off the lights. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me only if the house catches fire."

      He doesn't response nor does he look like he's ready for bed. He instead is sitting on the mattress thinking, barely paying me any mind.

      I don't get his mood swings at all. He changes more than Mother Nature on her monthly.

     Laying there, my mind drifts to pleasant times of my childhood and I settle into sleep with a peaceful smile on my face.