Mikaella deals with some family matters

Mikaella

Mikaella really needed to get out of the house after the social catastrophe that was Saturday night. Luckily for her, the perfect excuse dropped right into her lap: a Russian nesting doll of family emergencies.

Tita (Auntie) Mia fell ill and needed someone to look after her, so Mia’s daughter, Kristine, got called in to help. But then Kristine needed someone to watch her baby boy, Daniel, and her husband was currently deployed with the navy in a nuclear submarine, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. So, Kristine called in her cousin to babysit for a couple days.

Mikaella practically jumped at the chance. She’d always liked babies, but growing up without any siblings left her very few chances to babysit until her older cousins started having their own kids. This was her favorite thing about having a large extended family: she got to play with the cute babies for a while and give them back to their moms before the responsibility could exhaust her.

Sunday went by like a breeze: just a full day of playing, tickling, reading those little baby books, feeding and changing. It was all very routine stuff for Mikaella, but she delighted in every little moment.

Is it just my cycle, or is little Daniel even cuter than I remember?

The way his eyes lit up when Mikaella entered the room, how he didn’t even cry when his mommy walked out the door. He held her attention effortlessly, and every moment she spent with him was a welcome vacation from the absurd drama of K-Town. She didn’t even feel the need to look at her phone for hours at a time, except to take pictures for Kristine when Daniel did something particularly adorable.

Unfortunately, Monday proved much more difficult. She woke up after just a few hours, but couldn’t go back to sleep. Her breakfast and coffee tasted unusually bland, but she choked them down anyway. Whenever she lost focus, her teeth started to grind. She couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing from her morning routine, and she had a pretty good idea what that was.

Yet the sound of Daniel yawning through the baby monitor was a shot of espresso right into her veins. It helped distract from her ever-growing irritability, and she was able to muster up the energy to change, feed, and play with him until it was time for his afternoon nap.

The moment he fell asleep, that rush of maternal energy left her, and she slumped onto the living room couch like a puppet with her strings cut. Thankfully, all Mikaella had to do was keep the baby monitor close while she watched trash TV and, for once in her life, ignored all incoming texts. Unfortunately, her favorite reality trash, The Bachelor, did not improve her mood. Something about a harem of girls competing for the affections of one man seemed sadder now. Mikaella’s other favorite show was this K-drama Vicky had gotten her into, but she’d gotten more than her fill of Korean drama the other night. The last thing she wanted to see was another beautiful Korean woman living her best life with some handsome, rich guy.

In lieu of something light and romantic, she put on a true crime documentary, letting it fade into the background while she scrolled through her socials.

Mikaella’s peace and quiet was interrupted by increasingly loud footsteps descending the stairs: an unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t the only adult in the house.

“Daammmmn, Mikaella, Kristine mentioned she did your highlights but didn’t mention the rest of you. It’s like you’re looking finer and finer every time I see you.”

“Gee, thanks.” She made sure not to look up from her phone, putting on her best disaffected-teen-face.

This was her least favorite thing about having a large extended family: creepy uncles. Though technically not her uncle by blood (or maybe precisely because of that fact), Ezekiel was the worst of them all. Too irresponsible to watch his own grandson, and too dumb to take a fucking hint. She’d been fortunate enough to not cross paths with him yesterday, but it seemed her luck had run out.

“Seriously, girl, you used to look so skinny, like a little boy. But you’ve grown into a real woman, more like your mom.” He cupped his hands over his chest, in case that was too subtle for her. Amateur creepy uncles might make an inappropriate comment here, or they might stare a little too long there, but not Tito Ezekiel. It took a real pro to creep on both his daughter’s cousin and his former sister-in-law in the same sentence.

Gross. Of fucking course, he noticed me going up one fucking bra size, ugh. fucking perv. Should have brought pasties.

Mikaella hadn’t packed a bra either; yesterday she’d tried on two and found both uncomfortably tight. That should have been something worth celebrating, but Ezekiel had ruined that too. She pulled her knees up to cover her chest, only then to realize most of her legs were completely bared for his pervy gaze. Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked up to find him staring at the point where her shorts barely covered her ass. “Can you not?”

“What? I’m just trying to give you a compliment, damn. Don’t dress like that if you don’t want men to notice.”

God, if this is how he leers at me in a t-shirt and shorts, he wouldn’t fucking last a day in that house. One look at Vicky in her karaoke dress, or god forbid Kate in an overstuffed tank top and he’d probably die of a heart attack. If only…

But wishing didn’t make it so, and Ezekiel refused to take her non-response as a hint. “What’d you get all dolled up for anyway? Does your mom approve of you wearing that kind of makeup?”

My mom doesn’t give a fuck about anything, asshole. “I’m not wearing any makeup.” She wiped under her eyes and held up her unstained fingers as proof.

His eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You tattooed that on?”

Mikaella actually had no idea why her makeup stained her face like this, but that was far from the strangest thing she’s seen the human body do recently, and she had no desire to discuss her appearance with Tito Creepito of all people.

“What’s it to you, anyway?” she snapped.

“Geeeeeez, girly. Just curious is all. Don’t gotta get all pissy about everything.”

She decided that the silent treatment was her best chance at getting him to shut the fuck up. She turned the TV up, and he just shrugged, abandoned whatever PMS joke he was probably trying to come up with, and went into the kitchen to microwave some of the food that Kristine prepared before she left. Because, of course, Ezekiel was useless when it came to “women’s work,” which basically meant anything he didn’t feel like doing around the house. The ceasefire only lasted the few minutes it took him to plunder Kristine’s kitchen. He walked back into the living room with a plate of reheated spaghetti and resumed his petty, pervy interrogation between noisy bites.

“So, you a working girl now?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I have a job,” If Vicky hasn’t already stolen it…

“Well, it's nine a.m. on a Monday, and you're here watching TV.”

“So? What’s your fucking point? It’s not that kind of job.”

“Oh yeah? Then what kind of job is it? You know, I heard some rumors about you. Nasty rumors. Maria thinks you’re stripping, but Angela says you’re out there whoring. And now here you are, tattooing that whore makeup onto your face… Doesn’t look like a normal nine-to-five to me.”

Tita Maria and Tita Angela should keep their puta mouths shut.

“So what if it isn’t? I’m paying my own way. And I’m here babysitting your grandson, because Kristine doesn’t trust you to take care of him by yourself.”

“Hey! You better watch that mouth of yours, little girl. This is my house! You can’t talk to me like that when you’re sitting on my couch.”

“I’ll watch my mouth when you watch your grandson.”

“Why you little…” His face scrunched up.

Mikaella wasn’t about to back down, “Why do you care so much about how I make my money?”

His tightened lips stretched into the creepiest, toothiest grin.

“Just askin’ if you’re really in business is all.”

Ewwww… Mikaella decided she preferred him angry.

“Even if I was that kind of girl,”—and she was—“there’s no way you could afford me.”

“Try me.”

“Yeah? You think Kristine would be happy if she heard the shit you’re spewing? Huh?”

At the mention of his daughter, Ezekiel’s face turned beet red. His eyes narrowed to daggers. “Why would she believe you, huh? You better not say shit!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll tell your mom what you’ve been up to!”

“I’m fucking shaking. Go ahead. Tell her something she already knows.”

“Christ, the mouth on you…”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, manyak!” Perv!

His face went from red to purple. “That’s it! Gagang puta!” Dumb slut! He stomped towards her with tense shoulders and clenched fists.

Thankfully, before Ezekiel could do something they’d both regret, the baby monitor went off with the sound of Daniel’s cries, stopping the old man cold. Mikaella took that as her excuse to get the fuck out of this room, practically flying up those stairs to the nursery.

“Heyyyyy, don’t cry! I’m here!” She picked up the crying boy and bounced him up and down in her arms. “Thanks for the save. Just promise me you won’t be like your grandpa when you’re all grown up.”

Thankfully, it was only a few minutes before she heard the front door slam shut. Ezekiel had left the building.

Thank god. I hope someone flattens his dick with a tire iron.

Mikaella had spent so much time living with the girls (and Alkim) and that she’d almost forgotten how stressful it could get interacting with the vast majority of men. She could never really predict how gross and violent they could get out of nowhere. Just the idea of touching that creepy old bastard made her flesh crawl. Even her last sugar daddy had the decency to solicit sex from a random karaoke girl instead of his daughter’s nineteen-year-old cousin.

Blech!

The sad thing was, he was probably right about her not telling. Mikaella had already inherited her mom’s reputation; one slip up could mean inheriting her mother’s banishment as well. If Ezekiel could get Kristine to believe him about Mikaella stealing jewelry, or being on ****, that might be the end of it. Then no one would invite her over for Christmas or let her play with the babies ever again. She decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

She spent the next hour soothing Daniel back to sleep. Once he was down, she reheated a huge lunch for herself—what used to be a full day’s allotment of food—and restarted her show. Unfortunately, her mind was back in K-Town, back in that room. Before she knew it, the little guy’s nap was over, saving Mikaella from further self-pitying introspection. She fed him a bottle of formula in front of the TV, letting the true crime program continue to drown out her thoughts, until she heard the key jingle in the lock and shut off the TV.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and Kristine walked inside.

“Hi Mikaella! Hi baby!”

“Hey.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t move, I wanna get a picture of you holding him like that!”

Kristine set down her bags by the door and walked over to the couch where Mikaella sat with Daniel in her lap. Mikaella **** a smile, and Kristine took their picture.

“Aw, you look so cuuute together!” She turned her phone around so Mikaella could see.

Awww, it actually is a really cute pic…

Daniel was squirming and giggling with excitement from his mom’s return, and his adorable smile came through perfectly. Mikaella was almost **** to hand him back to his mother.

“Hi babyyyy! How are you?” cooed Kristine. She picked up her son, kissed his forehead, and started bouncing him in her arms. “Thank you soooo much for babysitting on such short notice! Did my dad help with him at all?”

Mikaella shook her head.

“Pfft. Figures. Did he at least behave himself?”

“... He mostly stayed out of my way.”

Kristine rolled her eyes. “Figures. But little Daniel wasn’t too much trouble for you? Did you give your aunty a hard time?”

“No, he was good.”

“You sure? You look a little tired.”

“Um, yeah, a little. Wasn’t his fault, he didn’t wake me up or anything, I just didn’t sleep very well…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, you’re more than welcome to take a nap and stay for dinner, or you could spend the night if you’d like.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do all that.”

“Oh yes I do! I never get to see you anymore, and I was too busy with customers the other day to catch up with you.” Kristine sat down on the couch, baby in her lap, and patted the space next to her. “How’s everything been? Are you still living with those karaoke girls in K-Town?”

Reluctantly, Mikaella sat down next to Kristine. “Uh, yeah. Same house, same girls.”

“Do people still have house parties in K-Town? Or do you all just go clubbing together?”

Mikaella tried to keep her tone neutral. “They went Saturday night, but I couldn’t go with them because I’m not twenty-one.”

“You don’t have a fake?”

Mikaella shook her head.

“Well, maybe next time you could swing by and borrow my I.D for the night?”

Maybe ten years and twenty pounds ago… “I’m okay, thanks. They promised to make one for me soon.”

“Nice, nice. Soooo, meet any cute guys lately?”

“Nope.”

“Aw come on, Mikaella! You gotta give me more than that! Please? I never get to go out anymore,” Kristine nodded down at the baby boy in her arms currently grabbing at his mother’s hair, “It’s all diapers and Mickey Mouse’s clubhouse over here. I’m dyyyying for some real drama.”

Mikaella sighed and gave in. “Fiiiine, you win. There’s a guy.”

“Ha! I knew it! I knew there was a guy when you asked for highlights and a makeover! Did it work? Did he like them?”

“He did, yeah.”

“Pictures! Come on, whip 'em out!” Kristine slapped her hand on the couch between each word.

Daniel had no idea what they were talking about, but he added his little arms and baby babbling to the chant anyway.

Mikaella groaned internally until she remembered how bare Alkim’s social media was. Fuck it. Kristine could cyber stalk him all day and come up empty handed. So, she scooted closer to her nosy cousin anyway and pulled up Alkim’s Instagram page.

“Oh wow, he is cute. Nice body. Wow, even his teeth look perfect. He looks kinda… huh…” Kristine’s brow furrowed, “… actually, what is he? He doesn’t look Filipino.”

“He isn’t.”

“Is he… Mexican or something? I honestly can’t tell. What’d you say his name was again?”

I didn’t. “Alkim Wong. He’s really mixed. I thought he was just Wasian or something for a while but apparently he’s half Chinese and half Muslim or something, I think that’s what his first name is supposed to be. He might be part white too, but I’m not really sure about that. I’d have to ask him again.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know they made ‘em like that.”

Mikaella shrugged. “It’s the twenty-first century.”

Kristine’s head tilted in confusion, “Wait, are you saying he’s not a Christian?”

Almost forgot who I was talking to… “Uhhhhh, no, he’s not.” Hard to see god when he can’t suck his own dick… Fuck, if Kristine knew even ten percent of what we did in that house she’d probably call in an exorcism for the whole place…

“Who’s that girl with him? Why aren't you in any of these pictures?”

Mikaella shrugged. “Those are all his college pics; he doesn't really post much.” Unless you count our sex tapes. “See, there’s him and his friends in their, uh…”

“Caps and gowns.”

“Right, yeah. He just graduated a few months ago.”

“Ohhhh, he went to UCLA? Is he trying to be a doctor or something?”

Does being a doctor cancel out being a heathen? “Doctor or scientist or whatever. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anymore.” Mikaella sighed and laid back against the couch cushions, “I don’t know if it’s really gonna work out between us.”

“Why not? Did something happen? Did he cheat on you?”

Mikaella sat back up and crossed her arms. “No. Well, not exactly—it's complicated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Either he cheated on you or he didn’t, what’s complicated about that?”

Oh, Kristine, where to begin? He went partying without me, came back without telling me, and I found him in bed drinking milk from my supposedly lesbian housemate’s giant cowtits, while my other definitely-not-a-lesbian housemate was spooning him.

The image was still burned onto Mikaella’s retinas. “He didn’t exactly cheat on me because I’m not really his girlfriend. Like, we never went exclusive.”

“He sleeps around?! Girl, how is that not a dealbreaker for you?”

Mikaella shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, you wouldn’t understand.”

Kristine placed her hand over Mikaella’s. “Then help me understand. Just tell me what you like about him so much. What’s stopping you from committing to each other?”

Pro: he’s got a great body, a deep voice, he’s educated, he cooks for me, he has all these great ideas like starting a porn site together, his dick tastes like pure perfection, he makes me cum so hard I go fucking cross-eyed from swallowing, and whenever he calls me his fuckdoll or cumslut I get butterflies in my stomach...

Con: I don’t know if he even believes in romance, I’m literally glued to his dick whenever he wants but it’s still not enough for him, he was always more into my other housemates, and now one of them is literally feeding him with her gargantuan titties…

Before Mikaella could think of a toned-down version of events to give Kristine, her phone rang. “Hang on a sec.” It was an unknown number, but she picked it up anyway—anything to get out of this conversation—and to her relief it wasn’t a scammer, but the free clinic calling with her blood test results.

She got off the couch and said to Kristine, “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

Kristine nodded and turned her full attention back to Daniel.

Mikaella ran upstairs to the guest room, shut the door, and confirmed her identity to the nurse. Once that was done, the nurse informed Mikaella that she was STD free.

Yes! We can do it raw! I may not be Vicky hot, but I can do this for him!

“So, when can I schedule an appointment for an IUD?”

“Well, unfortunately, we can’t insert an IUD at this time. You see, there was a complication with your test results…” the nurse trailed off.

“Huh? But you just said I was clean?”

“Yes, you are not carrying any sexually transmitted diseases.”

“Then what’s the complication? I wanna get this done now.”

There was a short pause from the other end. “Can you remember when you last menstruated?”

“My last period? Uhh, like five weeks ago. Why?” Understanding crushed her like a pallet of bricks. OH! Shit! “Wait, you think I’m pregnant! But I can’t be pregnant?! We haven’t even had sex yet?!”

“Are you saying you’ve had no sexual contact recently?”

“No sex! Just blowjobs! And fingering! I swear, that's all we did!”

“Mhm. And at any time during these sessions did your or your partner’s fingers come into contact with any ejaculate before insertion?”

“Just precum!” It just felt sooooo gooood in my pussy! “There was no real sex! He never actually came inside me, so I can’t be pregnant!”

There was a long pause from the other end, “Miss, are you aware that precum contains sperm?”

“WHAT? YOU CAN GET PREGNANT FROM PRECUM?!?!!?”

“... Yes, precum contains sperm, and can still lead to pregnancy.”

“SHIT! SHIT! FUCK!”

The nurse waited for a lull in Mikaella’s frantic swearing before she spoke again, “Would you be interested in a referral for counseling and family planning services? There would be no charge for you, and you’d be able to discuss your options with trained professionals."

“I-I don’t know…”

“We can circle back to that. There were some other anomalies with your blood test I would like to go over. Are you participating in college sports or anything of that nature?”

“What? No!” Mikaella’s ears glazed over as the doctor went on and on about “blood doping,” or whatever. The whole pregnancy thing was a bit more pressing than something about weird hormones. She declined to schedule another test and hung up the phone. Within seconds she got an automated text that was basically a brochure for what the nurse had already mentioned: family planning, adoption, and abortion talks. Then, a couple seconds later, she got yet another text asking her to fill out a survey about the services she’d received.

Mikaella started to cry, torn up with the unfairness of it all, mourning the life she could have had, rage at her mother for not signing the sex-ed permission slip, and regret over not just fucking Alkim’s magical cock if she was going to get pregnant anyway.

Her only consolation was that she’d lasted two years longer than her mother as a free woman before she was knocked up by the first guy she’d ever even liked.

Fuck! What the hell do I do now?!

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