Sweet Celia: Good Neighbors (Commission)

Here's a quick one. Chapter 1 of a new commission series for randomguy93. Esme of "Teen Witch" has a big sister, who has a passion for sweets. Now, if only the man she wants was young enough for her...

Tom slowed his jog to a walk when he noticed the girl sitting on the porch swing. Her piercing sky blue eyes followed him as he approached, wavy dark hair framing the sides of her pale face.

Tom tried to pass by without engaging with her. They had a history, and his parent’s home was just next door. The two houses contrasted like night and day. His parent’s home was an ordinary suburban house on the edge of a subdivision. The girl’s home was an old Addams Family style gothic domicile that may have once been white but looked as though it had not been painted in decades. Kids thought the place was haunted. The Merriweathers who resided there were rumored to be witches by superstitious people.

Tom was not superstitious, but he would rather avoid dealing with young Celia Merriweather if he could.

“Hello, Tom,” Celia said with a grin. “Nice seeing you again. It’s been a little while.”

“Hi, Celia,” he said, not slowing down. “Have a good day.”

“Wait!” she said, standing up from the porch swing and stepping to the railing.

She had caught him. Tom stopped and turned to face her.

“I was just thinking about you,” Celia said. “It’s been years since you last babysat for us.”

“I stopped babysitting after I graduated from high school.”

“I graduated not too long ago,” she said. “I’m 18 now. What do you think about that?” Her smile indicated that she expected him to be excited. She leaned her chest forward, showing off all the cleavage her low cut top had to offer.

“Congratulations,” he said, being polite. She was a pretty girl, true, but only a girl, and having known her since she was in grade school, he felt uncomfortable even thinking about her as a sexy woman.

“I’m learning to cook,” she said. “I’ve gotten pretty good at making candies. I might even open a shop.”

“That’s great,” he said. “Good luck with that.”

“Do you want to come in and try out my sweets?” she said. The implied enticement was impossible to miss.

“I’d better not,” he said.

“Why?” She looked genuinely confused. Clearly, she had never expected him to refuse.

“It wouldn’t be… appropriate,” he explained.

“I’m an adult now,” she said. “It’s legal.”

“I’m ten years older than you,” he said. “And, you’re barely out of high school. Imagine what people would think of me.”

Celia frowned. “Oh,” she said, the small word carrying a heavy emotional weight.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll find someone nice who’s closer to your age.”

She nodded, turned away, and walked to the front door of her house.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Bye,” she spat out, before entering her house and slamming the door shut behind herself.

Tom walked home, feeling a desperate need for a shower.

***

Later that evening, Tom’s father found a package sitting on the front stoop of his house. He handed the cell phone sized box over to Tom. The box was wrapped neatly in pink paper and white ribbon. The tag on it said simply, “To: Tom. From: Celia.”

Tom unwrapped his gift and opened the box. Inside was a simple peppermint candy cane, wrapped in clear cellophane and another white ribbon. He lifted the red and white striped candy out of the box, unsure of what it meant.

“I think that girl is sweet on you,” his father said, relishing in the pun.

“I told her that I wasn’t interested in her,” Tom defended himself. “I thought she understood.”

“Seems that she didn’t get the message.”

“What do I do?”

“Keep saying ‘no,’” his father suggested. “Be polite. Don’t be rude. Just make it perfectly clear that it won’t happen.”

Tom unwrapped the candy cane and examined it. There was nothing amateurish about it, making him wonder if it might have been store-bought, not home-made. “It would be rude not to eat it,” he said. “Right?”

His father shrugged and left to watch TV.

Tom put the candy cane in his mouth. The peppermint sweetness of it made him recall his childhood, Christmas mornings, waking up early to open presents. He sucked on it the rest of the evening until there was nothing left of it.

***

Tom woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and energized. He hopped out of bed and hurried over to the bathroom to clean up and start his day. However, one look in the mirror brought him to a sudden halt. “What the…?” he said, looking at his reflection. The teenaged face looking back at him appeared just old enough to have graduated from high school. It was a face he had not seen in a decade, possessing a youthful innocence that he had gladly outgrown. Looking down, he found that his body matched the face, having become slimmer and lacking the muscles he had built over the years. Somehow, he was 18 years old again, as impossible as that seemed. “How?”

Hearing his parents chatting downstairs over breakfast, Tom ran down to them. They stopped eating when they saw him sprint up to them, looking distressed.

“What’s the matter?” his mother asked.

“Look at me,” Tom said. “I’m only 18 now.”

His parents exchanged a concerned look.

“What do you mean?” his father asked. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What?” Tom asked. “Don’t you see what’s happened to me?”

“Are you feeling alright?” his mother asked.

Before Tom could respond, the doorbell rang.

“Could you answer that?” his father asked. “And, if you could, try to act normal when you do, please.”

Tom backed away from them, still feeling shocked that they did not notice how much he had changed overnight.

Looking through the stained glass window on the door, he saw the vague shape of a brunette woman standing outside.

He unlocked the door and swung it open. Somehow, he was not at all surprised at who he found standing there waiting for him.

“Hello, Tom,” Celia said with a grin. “Nice seeing you again. Did you enjoy my candy?”

“You!” Tom said, having realized who was to blame for this.

“Come on,” Celia said. “Get dressed. Let’s go for a walk.”