Chapter Text
Jake Benson had his summer all planned out. From relaxing on the couch, watching TV to playing video games with his friends. He'd been saving up the last few months from doing chores around the house to buy any new game or to go see a new summer blockbuster with the guys. And he hated doing chores, the only upside was that he got an allowance. Something he also hated was school, which isn't really a surprise for a kid his age, and annoying little siblings.
While his older siblings were either away at camp or doing other teenage things, he found himself stuck with his little brother and sister for the next week until their first day at camp began. "Seriously? Both of you?" he groaned, pressing his forehead against the fridge door. Behind him, his little brother Liam was bouncing a tennis ball against the kitchen tiles while his sister Zoe practiced cartwheels dangerously close to the dining table. "Mom said you'd be gone by Wednesday."
"It got pushed back." Zoe said mid-flip, as if this weren't the worst news Jake had heard all summer. "Something about paperwork."
"Oh god." Randy groaned some more, slumping against the fridge like it was the only thing keeping him upright. The cold metal pressed into his forehead as Liam's tennis ball *thwacked* rhythmically against the floor—each bounce a tiny hammer to his sanity. Zoe's socked feet skidded on the linoleum as she attempted a one-handed cartwheel, her elbow narrowly missing a glass of orange juice. Randy didn't even have the energy to yell. He'd been counting down the days till Wednesday—till freedom. His friends were already texting about hitting the new arcade downtown, and he'd been mentally spending his allowance on nachos and racing games. Now? Now he was staring down two more days of Zoe's "gymnastics" and Liam's endless questions about whether frogs could actually throw up (they could, and Kyle had regretted googling it). Their summer break had just started last Friday, and Jake was looking forward to starting off break by finally having the house all to himself. Now he had to share it with two little twerps until Next Monday. He exhaled sharply through his nose, the fridge against his forehead like a mocking laugh. Five more days. Five more days of Zoe's soaked feet squeaking across every hardwood surface like a deranged gymnast mouse, five more days of Liam's "fun facts" that always seemed to involve bodily fluids. He'd survived the school year-barely-by counting down to this exact moment: summer break, empty house, silence. Instead, he was trapped in a circus disguised as a house.
The microwave clock blinked 11:37 AM. Normally, he’d be halfway through a bag of chips by now, controller in hand, the only sound the digital explosions of whatever game he’d downloaded with last month’s allowance. Instead, Liam was currently attempting to balance a spoon on his nose while Zoe practiced her "floor routine" using the couch as a vault. A throw pillow went airborne. Jake didn’t flinch. He finally peeled himself off the fridge with the enthusiasm of a wet towel being lifted from a counter top. He didn't even bother grabbing a snack-just let the fridge door swing shut behind him with a defeated thump. The sounds of the gremlins he called siblings faded into background noise, as he trudged toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The upstairs hallway was blessedly quiet, the carpet muffling his footsteps as he passed the framed family photos. Each of them were taken during a family vacation, each one showing one big happy family. That would all change of course as the kids in the photos started getting older and began doing their own things. It was so rare for them to do anything together anymore. The only time being the holiday's, and even then it's chaotic as hell, especially if you live in a large extended family.
Jake finally got to his room, shouldering open his door, before closing it right behind him as he entered. He then flopped onto his bed face-first, the springs creaking underneath him. His hand reached under his pillow, finding a box of Swedish Fish candy he got during Halloween. It was an attempt at hiding his candy from Zoe, mostly his mom, who was strongly against him eating in his room in the first place, but he always found a way without getting caught. He ripped the box open with his teeth, shaking a few fish into his palm. The candy was slightly melted together from the summer heat, but he peeled them apart with surgical precision. The first one hit his tongue like a sugary lifeline. He first learned about hiding candy under his pillow from his older brother Brad, who did the same thing when he was little. Brad moved out for college three years ago, the only time Jake ever saw or heard from him would be during the holiday's.
Jake crunched through the last Swedish Fish with the solemnity of a man savoring his final meal. The ceiling fan above him wobbled a bit, spreading cool air through the room-a shaky, uneven breeze that did little to cut through the summer heat but just enough to make the glow-in-the-dark stars on Jake's ceiling tremble like they were shivering. They'd been up there since he was two and he felt like he had outgrown them now. He was starting middle school this upcoming September, but he was too lazy to peel of them off the ceiling, so they were still up there next to the ceiling fan.
He turned over to look at his alarm clock on his nightstand. 12:43 pm. His parents wouldn't be home from work until six, probably later depending on the traffic. His parents were the only ones to keep Zoe and Liam under control. They sure didn't listen him, and he stopped trying to get them to listen to him a while ago. he began the countdown in his head, the only thing that'd keep him from losing his mind.
Soon Sunday night would arrive, and Jake spent counted down the hours until his younger siblings were finally out of the house. By this time tomorrow, his siblings would finally be out of his hair, and he'll have the house all to himself for the whole summer. Unfortunately, that's not how things would turn out.
The following morning Jake woke up to a quiet house. He climbed out of his bed and walked over to the bedroom door to open it. Still quiet. He walked downstairs and into the living room. It was empty. The kitchen was a ghost town. No Zoe mid-handstand against the fridge, no Liam perched on the counter asking if ketchup counted as a smoothie. Just sunlight pooling on empty chairs and the toaster’s quiet hum. Jake grabbed a bowl with caution of someone disarming a bomb, half-expecting Zoe to jump out of the pantry yelling, "GOTHCA! But nothing. The cereal box didn’t even taunt him with its usual rustle—just poured obediently, flakes falling like tiny, edible snowflakes. Jake paused mid-chew, milk dripping off his chin. He could’ve sworn he heard Liam’s muffled giggle—but when he whirled around, the hallway stretched out, barren. The silence wasn’t peaceful; it was the kind that pressed against his eardrums like a held breath.
Jake went into the living room to watch TV after he was done breakfast. He didn't have to deal with fighting over the remote for the next three months. He flopped onto the couch, sprawling across the entire length of it like a conquering king, limbs splayed in victory. No elbows jabbing his ribs, no feet kicking his shins. Just him, the remote, and the sweet, sweet absence of negotiation. That morning, everything was looking up for him. Then, a ring of the doorbell cut through the noise of the TV like a knife. Jake froze as his gaze shifted from the screen to the door. He was smart enough to know never to open the door to strangers. The doorbell rang again. Jake's heart slightly began to pick up pace. He wasn't scared, but was a bit anxious. His mind began playing his mom's lecture about never opening the door to strangers, followed by her dramatic reenactment of a Dateline episode she'd watched. The bell chimed for a third time. Jake finally hopped off the couch, and slowly made his way to the window. Carefully, he tugged the drapes aside just enough to peak and froze.
On the doorstep stood a golden retriever girl, clad in a band crop-top with blue denim shorts. Her hair cascaded down her back, with bangs that partially covered her left eye. Jake blinked as he stared. The girl looked like she was a teenager. A high schooler. On his doorstep. He was aware of the hot girls you'd see there from his older brothers, considering they went to high school themselves. Jake quickly moved from the window to the door, yanking it open so hard, the hinges squeal. The golden retriever blinked up from her phone. "Oh, hi," she said, slipping her phone into her back pocket with a casual flick of her wrist. Her smile was the kind that made Jake suddenly aware of how his own mouth worked. Or didn’t. "You must be Jake."
Jake's ear twitched, a hint of confusion appeared on his face. "Yeah." He raised an eyebrow "And You're..."
"Ash." she said, like this explained everything. Jake continued staring, still confused. "I'm your babysitter for the summer." she clarified. Jake's eyes went wide upon hearing that. Ash tilted her head, her ears perked up. "Your mom didn’t tell you?" she asked, tapping one sneakered foot against the welcome mat. The *thump-thump* of her tail against the doorframe was the only sound in the universe for approximately three heartbeats. "No.....she did not." Jake replied, feeling like he was gonna blow up into a million pieces. His fingers tightened around the doorframe, knuckles bleaching white. Behind her, the empty street stretched out like a taunt. No siblings. No witnesses. Just him, this golden retriever girl, and the crushing realization that his mother had outmaneuvered him with the precision of a chess grandmaster. "So," Ash began "Can I come in?" Jake blinked "U-uh....y-yeah. Sure." Jake stepped aside to let Ash in, his socked feet shuffling awkwardly against the hardwood. She breezed past him with the effortless grace of someone who hadn’t just upended his entire summer, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor. The scent of vanilla and sunscreen trailed after her—something warm and summery that made the air in the hallway feel thicker.
Ash's eyes scanned around the room. "Nice place." she commented, her golden tail giving a slow wag as she took in the living room—the Xbox controllers tangled in their charging cords, the half-empty chip bag abandoned on the coffee table, the faint outline of Zoe’s sneaker scuff marks on the wall where she’d attempted a "wall run" last week. Jake suddenly saw his house through her eyes: the dent in the drywall from Liam’s failed rocket experiment, the suspiciously sticky patch near the TV stand where Zoe had spilled grape soda and "cleaned" it with a dish towel. His ears burned.
"Uh, thanks," Kyle managed, shoving his hands into his pockets like they might betray him by gesturing wildly at all the evidence of his failed summer plans. Ash looked at him "You seem a bit anxious. You ever had a babysitter before?" she asked, one ear flicking sideways as she nudged a discarded sock away with her sneaker. The sock slid across the floor like a sad, deflated balloon—one of Zoe’s, probably, judging by the neon pink stripes. Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. His last babysitter was Ms. Henderson, his old next door neighbor. She was kind of strict, enforcing snack times with military precision, and smelled like peppermints and impending doom. Ash was the exact opposite. Sunlight caught the highlights in her golden hair, turning it into a halo that had no business existing outside of Renaissance paintings. She leaned against the kitchen counter with one hip cocked, drumming her fingers against the marble like she was waiting for him to say something coherent. God, she was fucking hot.
"You good?" Ash asked, her tail giving an idle flick. "Y-yeah, I'm fine." Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck where sweat started to prickle "It's just....well....I've had had a babysitter before, but she was different. As in, I didn't like her." he finished lamely, immediately wishing he could swallow the words back down. "Oh, so you like me then?" Ash raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk curled on her lips. Jake felt his his face combust, his brain beginning to short circuit. "I-what? No-I mean, not like-" Jake's hands flailed uselessly. Ash laughed, a bright, effortless sound that bounced off the walls like sunlight. "Relax, I'm just teasing." she said. Jake’s heartbeat thundered in his ears loud enough to drown out the TV’s distant explosions. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly sandpaper-dry. "Right. Yeah. Obviously." The words tumbled out like loose change from a broken vending machine. Ash’s smirk softened into something warmer, her golden retriever ears twitching as she tilted her head. "You’re cute when you’re flustered," she added. Jake chuckled nervously, his fingers twitching against his thighs like he was trying morse code *ABORT MISSION* into his own legs. He was trying so hard to keep his composure—but his body seemed determined to betray him at every turn. His ears burned hotter than the Arizona pavement in July, and he could feel his tail—usually a reliable indicator of his mood—puffing up like he'd been electrocuted. He quickly smoothed it down with a hand, only for it to bristle again the second Ash smirked at him. "So." she said, dragging the word out like a challenge "What's the plan for today, kid?"
"Uhm....I was gonna watch TV with a bag of chips." Jake said, his usually black and grey fur now a shade of pink from his attempt at trying to be cool. The words tumbled out like a dropped bag of marbles-clumsy, scattered, painfully obvious. Ash's smirk widened. "That's your big summer plan?" She asked "Just you...and a bag of chips?" Jake's ears flattened "W-well, that wasn't all I was planning on doing." he lied, the words tumbling out faster than Zoe mid-cartwheel. "There was so much other stuff I was gonna do like... play video games"—*obvious*—"a-and go skydiving." *Liar.* "And rock climbing, and swim across the Atlantic Ocean, and bungee jumping." His smirk was pure bravado "But, sadly," Jake sighed, draping a dramatic paw over his forehead, "I won’t be able to do those things now because my mom decided to give me a babysitter for the summer." The smirk faded, replaced by a frown so fake it could’ve been Zoe’s "I didn’t eat the last cookie" face. Ash stared. Then—slowly, deliberately—she raised one golden eyebrow. She leaned forward, her tail swishing like a metronome set to *bullshit.* "Uh-huh," she said, voice drier than the cereal Jake had abandoned in his bowl. "You were gonna *swim the Atlantic.*"
"Oh yeah." Jake nodded with confidence. He crossed his arms, puffing out his chest like a pigeon defending its turf. "I was gonna do the breaststroke the whole way. Maybe backstroke if I got tired." Ash's other eyebrow joined the first somewhere near her hairline. "Right," she drawled, "And where, exactly, were you planning to start this historic swim? The Jersey Shore? A bathtub?" Jake shrugged "Haven't really decided yet." The words hung in the air like the dust motes swirling in the sunlight behind Ash—visible proof of his crumbling dignity. His tail flicked once, twice, then tucked between his legs like it was trying to escape the conversation. Ash exhaled through her nose—a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh "Uh-huh."
"Yeah, well, anyway, Imma go watch some TV. You can join me if you want." Jake said, already backing toward the living room like a retreating soldier. His socks slid against the hardwood, nearly sending him crashing into the wall. "I think I just might." Ash said, pushing off the counter with effortless grace. Her tail gave a slow wag as she sauntered past him, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor. Jake’s breath hitched as she brushed by, close enough that he caught another whiff of vanilla and sunscreen—warm, summery, and entirely unfair. She flopped onto the couch like she owned it, sprawling across the cushions with her arms draped over the backrest. The remote was in her hand before Jake could blink, her thumb already scrolling through the menu with practiced ease.
Jake hovered by the armrest, torn between sitting next to her and fleeing to his room to scream into a pillow. Ash patted the couch cushion beside her without looking up. "Relax, kid. I don’t bite." A pause. "Unless you ask nicely." Jake’s knees gave out. He collapsed onto the couch with the grace of a sack of potatoes, his tail thumping against the cushions like a malfunctioning metronome. Ash snorted, tossing him the remote. "Here. Since you’re *clearly* the expert on cinematic masterpieces." Her smirk softened when he fumbled the catch, the plastic clattering to the floor between them. "Oops. Uhm, I'm usually good at catching things." Jake blushed as he scrambled for the remote "I mean, I play sports alot so I should be good at catching." Ash's eyes lit up with interest "Oh, you play sports?" she asked, her tail giving a slow intrigued wag as she leaned forward. "Uh." Jake said, his voice cracked like a dropped egg "Yeah. I played for my school's basketball and soccer team." he said with confidence "You must be one of those really competitive guys then, huh?" Ash asked, stretching her arms behind her head in a way that made her crop top ride up just enough to reveal a sliver of golden stomach. Jake's gaze flickered downward—then snapped back up so fast he gave himself whiplash. His ears burned.
"Yeah." Jake rubbed the back of his neck, his claws catching slightly on the short fur there "I have been benched in the past for my roughhousing." The memories of said roughhousing stung worse than the time he'd scraped his knee sliding into home plate. "Oh wow." Ash said, her golden retriever ears perking up as she leaned closer, her tail thumping against the couch cushion. "You're one of *those* players. That's kinda cool....and hot." The words landed like a live wire against Jake's skin. His tail puffed up involuntarily, and he nearly dropped the remote again. "I—what?" he stammered, his voice cracking mid-syllable. Ash snickered "Man, you really get flustered easlily, don't you." her grin widened as Jake's ears did their best impression of two embarrassed satellites trying to launch off his head. Jake's mouth opened—then closed with an audible click. His fingers dug into the remote hard enough to make the plastic creak. "I—no, I just—" The words tangled in his throat like a pair of headphones left in a pocket too long. "I know I just met you before, but you're kinda cool." Ash said, stretching her legs across the couch cushions until her toes bumped Jake's thigh. The contact sent a jolt through him like he'd licked a battery. Her smirk softened into something warmer—less teasing, more genuine. "Seriously. Most kids your age would've pissed themselves by now." Jake felt his confidence return "Well, what can I say? I'm just that good at being cool." He raised his arms up, tucking them behind his head as he leaned back, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "I'm so cool, chicks dig me. Well, not yet. But they will once they see me. Come September, I'll be the most popular kid in middle school." Ash's violet eyes glittered with amusement. "So, you're heading into middle school next year, huh?" she asked him. Jake's tail stiffened mid-wag. "Yeah. Yeah." he nodded "I've graduated from bedtime stories and night lights and all of that kiddie garbage into more mature and cooler topics." he said. Ash nodded "I see. And what do you think of being babysat the whole summer?" she asked him.
"I think it's for babies." Jake answered without hesitation. "I mean, it's in the name. I don't know why my mom thought it'd be a good idea. I personally think I'm old enough to watch over myself." he crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt straining slightly around his biceps—a detail he hoped Ash would notice. "So, you don't need me here then." Ash asked, a playful smirk on her lips "I was hired by mistake." Jake's ears twitched. The remote slipped from his suddenly-sweaty paws, landing on the carpet with a muffled thud. "W-well," he stammered, his tail puffing up like a bottlebrush, "I mean—technically—if you wanna get *technical* about it—" Ash shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Dude, you're too easy. I'm only teasing." She reached over to ruffle Jake's fur with fingers that smelled faintly of cinnamon and sunscreen, her claws just barely grazing his scalp in a way that made his tail jerk like a fishing line with a bite. "Hey, you got any videos games that we could play." She jerked her chin toward the tangled nest of controllers under the TV. "Yeah. I mean, yeah." Jake scrambled off the couch, his socks sliding on the hardwood as he lunged for the entertainment center. "What kind of games do you like?" Ash shrugged "Doesn't matter to me." Her tail gave a lazy flick as she leaned back into the couch cushions, stretching her arms overhead until her golden stomach peeked out from beneath her crop top. Jake's claws dug into the carpet as he knelt by the entertainment center, suddenly very interested in alphabetizing his game cases. "I'm good at whatever," she added. Jake's ears burned hotter than the Xbox after a six-hour gaming session. He fumbled through the stack of games—knocking over a precarious tower of Liam's "very important rock collection" in the process—before grabbing the first one his fingers touched. "Uh. How about this?" He held up a case featuring a shirtless vampire holding a flaming sword. The cover art had seemed way cooler when he'd bought it last summer with Brad's old GameStop gift card.
Ash's eyes flicked to the game case, then back to Jake—her smirk widening in a way that made his tail puff up like a startled cat's. "Blood Moon Rising?" she read aloud, tapping one claw against the cover art where the vampire's abs gleamed like polished marble. "Didn't peg you for the gothic romance type." Jake's ears flattened. "It's not—that's just—the gameplay's actually really—" His words tangled in his throat as Ash plucked the case from his grip, her fingers brushing his in a way that sent sparks up his spine. She popped the disc out with a casual flick of her wrist, the plastic glinting in the sunlight like a challenge. The disc tray slid open with a soft whir, and Ash slotted the game in with practiced ease. Jake watched from the floor, his tail twitching like a faulty antenna as the TV screen flickered to life—a blood-red logo dripping across the screen in slow, dramatic strokes. Ash tossed the empty case onto the coffee table where it landed with a plastic *clack*. "Controller?" Ash held out a hand without looking, her fingers wiggling impatiently. Jake scrambled to untangle the charging cord from around Zoe’s abandoned hair tie—neon green and stretched beyond recognition—before handing over the controller. His claws fumbled against the buttons as he powered on his own, the Xbox dashboard music swelling like a cheesy movie soundtrack. The game's menu music swelled—a dramatic symphony of pipe organs and distant screaming—as Ash leaned forward, elbows on her knees, controller gripped loosely in her fingers. Jake snuck a glance at her profile, at the way her golden bangs cast shadows across her cheekbones, and nearly missed the "PRESS START" prompt flashing on-screen.
"You ever played this before?" Ash asked, her thumb hovering over the A button. "It's been awhile." Jake admitted, rolling his shoulders as the loading screen cast flickering red shadows across his face. "I might be a bit rusty." Ash's tail thumped against the couch cushion. "That's fine," she said, stretching her fingers across the controller buttons with the casual grace of someone who'd broken high score boards. "I'll go easy on you." Her smirk could've powered the entire mid-west. The character creation screen loaded—a parade of angular vampire hunters and leather-clad werewolves that looked nothing like the scrawny kid currently sweating through his t-shirt. Jake's fingers hovered over the D-pad, suddenly hyperaware of Ash's knee pressing against his thigh as she leaned in to examine the options. "Ooooh, you gonna pick the edgy one with the scar?" Ash teased, nudging him with her elbow hard enough to make his selection jump to a shirtless berserker with abs like tectonic plates. Jake's ears flattened against his skull "S-sure. I mean, why not?" His fingers twitched over the controller, accidentally selecting a female vampire hunter with thigh-high boots and a whip. The character spun on-screen with a dramatic flourish, her pixelated cleavage nearly popping out of her leather corset. Jake's tail puffed up like a startled porcupine. Ash snorted, her golden retriever ears twitching in amusement. "Good choice," she said, tapping rapidly through the weapon selection screen. Her character materialized—a hulking werewolf with biceps thicker than Jake's thigh and a chainmail loincloth that defied physics. "Though I figured you'd go for something more... subtle." She smirked as Jake's character accidentally smacked herself in the face with the whip during the idle animation. "I didn't mean to pick her, it was just an accident." Jake's face became flushed, the pink creeping up through his fur as his character's whip snapped again—this time catching her own pixelated thigh with a comical *thwack*. The health bar dipped slightly. "Sure." Ash raised an eyebrow, her golden tail flicking against the couch cushions as Jake's vampire hunter tripped over her own whip for the third time.
Jake's ears burned as he mashed the buttons trying to find a male character he could play, anything to replace the leather-clad vampire hunter currently failing a backflip animation—but the game seemed determined to humiliate him. Every frantic press of the D-pad cycled through progressively more ridiculous female characters: a nun with a gatling gun, a cheerleader dual-wielding katanas, a librarian whose special move was an encyclopedia-throw. "Dude, relax." Ash said, her ears twitching with amusement. "She's actually top-tier if you know the combo—" Jake's controller nearly slipped from his sweaty paws as Ash's character—a hulking werewolf named "Baron von Chomp"—executed a flawless combo that sent his vampire hunter tumbling into a conveniently placed pile of animated hay. The game's announcer boomed *"FATALITY!"* with the same enthusiasm.
"You're *good*," Jake blurted, his tail thumping against the couch cushions in reluctant admiration. Jake's fingers tightened around the controller as the second round loaded—his vampire hunter now sporting a pixelated black eye from the haystack incident. "Best two out of three?" Ash asked, rolling her shoulders like a prize fighter. The sunlight streaming through the blinds caught the highlights in her fur, turning her into some kind of golden retriever goddess holding a third-party GameStop controller. "Sure." Jake responded, cracking his knuckles with all the bravado of a kid who'd once won a game of Candyland against his grandma. The controller creaked in his grip as he mashed the start button—his vampire hunter lunging forward with a whip crack that missed Ash's werewolf by approximately three zip codes. Ash snorted, her golden tail thumping against the couch cushions as her character dodged with the grace of a ballet dancer on steroids. "You gonna actually hit me this time?" she teased, executing a flawless backflip that made Jake's character look like a toddler swinging a jump rope. The controller grew slick in Jake's palms as his vampire hunter executed a desperate dodge roll—straight into a conveniently placed chandelier. The game's physics engine sent her pinwheeling across the screen with all the grace of a drunk flamingo, her pixelated skirt flipping up to reveal cartoonish striped underwear.
Ash's bark of laughter bounced off the walls like a tennis ball. "Damn, kid," she wheezed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. Her werewolf stood frozen mid-combo, shoulders shaking with silent mirth. "You're playing like a noob got a hold of the controls."
"I said I was rusty." Jake muttered, his ears flattening against his skull as his vampire hunter face-planted into a digital rosebush. The game's "KO!" graphic flashed in mocking neon pink—Zoe's favorite color, because of course it was. "I'll get the hang of it eventually." he said, watching his vampire hunter peel herself out of the rosebush with pixelated dignity. The character shook petals from her leather corset in a way that somehow made the whole thing more humiliating. He could feel Ash's eyes tracking his every fumble—not mocking exactly, but attentive in a way that made his tail twitch like a faulty car antenna. Ash stretched her arms behind her head, the movement making the couch cushions dip dangerously close to Jake's personal space. "You're holding the controller like it owes you money," she observed. "I'm on a mission, and that's to get a W." Jake said, jabbing his thumb against the controller's joystick hard enough to make the plastic creak. His vampire hunter responded by spinning in three rapid circles before tripping over her own whip again. Ash's golden tail thumped against the couch cushions. "Uh-huh," she drawled, "And how's that working out for you?" Her werewolf character—still pristine despite the battle—flexed its pixelated biceps in a taunt animation that felt personally targeted. Jake's vampire hunter finally managed to stand upright just as Ash's werewolf lunged—a pixelated blur of fangs and fur that pinned his character against a crumbling castle wall. The screen flashed *"FINISH HIM!"* in blood-red letters, and Ash's thumb hovered dramatically over the trigger button. "Any last words?" she teased, her golden retriever ears perked forward like this was the most entertaining thing she'd seen all summer. Jake's tail puffed up. "Rematch," he growled, louder than intended. The word bounced off the walls like a deflected basketball.
Jake and Ash spent the rest of the day playing the game, the sun dipping behind the neighbor's maple tree as Jake's vampire hunter suffered her seventeenth consecutive defeat—this time via accidental self-yeeting into a spike pit during what was supposed to be a dramatic finishing move. The controller had long since grown sticky with sweat in his grip, his claws leaving crescent-shaped indents in the rubber grips. Ash's golden tail thumped rhythmically against the couch cushions like a metronome set to *domination*, her werewolf character executing flawless combos with the casual precision of someone who'd clearly spent more time gaming than doing homework.
"You're cheating," Jake accused during round twenty-three, his vampire hunter currently tangled in her own whip like a kitten in yarn. The pixelated "YOU DIED" message flashed in neon pink—Zoe's favorite color, because the universe hated him. "Woah. That's a bold accusation." Ash chuckled "I'll have you know that I never cheat, and only play fair and square." She punctuated the statement by executing a flawless combo that sent Jake's vampire hunter spiraling into another conveniently placed haystack. The pixelated *"FATALITY!"* graphic flashed on the screen once more. Jake's ears flattened. "Then how are you *this* good?" His claws tapped frantically against the controller buttons, as if sheer desperation could compensate for skill. His character stood up—only to immediately trip over her own whip again. The health bar dipped into critical red, pulsing like a shame beacon. "I don't know, I just am." Ash shrugged. Her stomach suddenly growled. "Wow, I am hungry." she announced. "I could go for a pizza." Jake blurted, watching Ash's golden ears perk up at the word like she'd heard the magic password. "Pizza it is." Ash said, tossing her controller onto the couch cushions with the casual confidence of someone who'd just dominated seventeen rounds straight. "You got menus?"
Jake scrambled up so fast his socks nearly sent him sliding into the coffee table. "Uh—yeah—somewhere—" His claws scrabbled through the avalanche of papers, bills, and art projects burying the kitchen counter. A neon green flyer surfaced—*Tony's Pizza: Now With 20% More Cheese!*—with a phone number so aggressively bold it looked like it was screaming at him. "Here it is." He held it up in the air proudly like a victorious knight presenting a battle standard, the neon-green paper trembling slightly in his grip. "Cool. I'll order." Ash said, plucking the flyer from Jake's fingers with a casual flick of her wrist. Her claws—painted an electric blue that matched her chocker—tapped against the neon-green paper as she scanned the menu with the intensity of a general reviewing battle plans. Jake hovered by the kitchen island, tail twitching like a faulty windshield wiper, as Ash suddenly grinned and pointed at the menu's most monstrous pizza option. "Oh hell yeah, they've got the Carnivore's Apocalypse. Extra-large, triple meat, jalapeños, and..." Her golden ears perked up. "*Bacon-stuffed crust.*"
Jake's stomach did a somersault that would've made Zoe's gymnastics coach proud. "Uh—" His voice cracked mid-syllable as Ash's phone materialized in her hand, already dialing with practiced swipes. "Isn't that, like, twenty bucks extra for the—?" Ash waved him off with a flick of her golden tail, already rattling off their address into the phone with the ease of someone who'd ordered far too many pizzas in her lifetime. "Yeah, extra ranch on the side—no, make that *two* extra ranches. And a two-liter of..." She glanced at Jake, eyebrows raised in silent question. "Dr. Pepper," Jake whispered, suddenly feeling like he was witnessing some sacred ritual. The way Ash's claws tapped against the countertop in rhythm with the hold music—the casual way she leaned against the fridge like she'd done this a thousand times before—it all made his chest tighten in a way he couldn't name. The dial tone clicked off with finality, and Ash spun the phone around her finger like a gunslinger holstering a revolver. "Thirty minutes," she announced. "So," Ash drawled, "what do you wanna do while we wait?" Jake's gaze flickered from the discarded game controllers to the still-paused *Blood Moon Rising* screen—his vampire hunter forever frozen mid-faceplant into a rosebush—then back to Ash's expectant grin.
The pizza sat on the coffee table like a defeated gladiator, leftover slices still inside. Jake stared at the congealing cheese with the solemn resignation of someone who'd already lost all dignity that evening, his tail draped over the couch arm like a discarded towel. The TV screen flickered with some action movie Ash had picked—cars exploding in slow motion, guns firing with unrealistic recoil, the usual summer blockbuster chaos—but Jake couldn't focus past the way Ash's knee kept brushing his thigh every time she reached for another handful of popcorn. "Told you the bacon crust was worth it," Ash mumbled around a mouthful of buttery kernels. Jake chuckled "Yeah, you weren't kidding." The words came out muffled around his own mouthful of pizza crust—crispy, salty, and still faintly warm where the bacon grease had seeped into the dough. He wiped his muzzle with the back of his paw, catching a stray string of cheese that stretched stubbornly between his fingers before snapping. Ash's golden tail thumped against the couch cushions in quiet victory, her sneaker-clad feet propped up on the coffee table next to the demolished.
"We should do this every night." Ash said, the words slightly muffled by crunching, but still landing with the weight of a promise. "Agreed. "Jake said, the word slipping out before his brain could catch up. "Does this mean your okay with the whole babysitter for the whole summer thing?" She didn't look at him—just kept her violet eyes trained on the movie screen where a helicopter was exploding in gratuitous slow motion—but Jake could see the smirk tugging at the corner of her muzzle. Jake looked down at the floor, forgetting all about that. He was still bothered that his mom hired someone to watch over him for the whole summer, yet he really, and I mean *really* liked Ash. The contradiction sat in his stomach like a lead weight, pressing against the pizza and bacon crust until he thought he might burp up his own nervousness. "I Should probably talk to my mom about that." rogue popcorn kernel bounce off Ash's knee. "But, I'd still like to...hang out." a shade of pink appeared on his cheeks. Ash's tail stopped mid-wag. The movie's explosion scene reflected in her violet eyes as she turned her head slowly, studying him with the intensity of a cat watching a laser pointer. "Yeah?" she said, the word curling upward at the edges like smoke from a just-extinguished match. One golden eyebrow arched higher than the other, her smirk softer now—less teasing, more... something Jake couldn't name but made his stomach flip anyway. "Yeah." Jake nodded "I seriously gotta convince my mom about the babysitter thing, though. Hopefully it'll work." His tail flicked against the armrest. "It worked with my older brothers when they were my age. Why should it be any different for me?" The words tasted like day-old pizza crust, stale with uncertainty. Ash chuckled. She'd babysat enough kids to fill a middle school bus—hyperactive wolf pups who chewed the furniture, shy fox kits who hid under the bed, even a pair of raccoon twins who'd tried to "redistribute" every shiny object in the house. But this? A flustered racoon with more bravado than coordination and a tail that betrayed every emotion? This was new.
Jake blushed when she heard her chuckle, that low, golden sound that made his chest feel like it was full of soda bubbles. It wasn't fair how easy she made it look, lounging there with popcorn salt dusting her fingertips and the TV light painting stripes across her fur. His tail thumped against the couch cushion twice before he caught it, forcing it still like a disobedient puppy.
Jake hadn't planned on Ash. Hadn't planned on the way her laughter sounded like sunlight given sound, or how her claws tapped against the controller buttons with the precision of a concert pianist. Hadn't planned on the way his chest tightened every time her golden tail thumped against the couch cushions—a metronome keeping time with his accelerating heartbeat. Most of all, he hadn't planned on the strange, warm feeling unfurling in his stomach as they sat there—half-eaten pizza between them, action movie forgotten—realizing this accidental summer might become the one he'd remember forever.