Phoebe rolled out of bed with a yawn, shivering a little as the chilly morning air hit her mostly bare skin. She really wished she had found some more substantial pajamas to wear now, but clearly it was too late for that now. She was definitely going to be doing that when she got home from work, though, at least if the super wound up telling her to move instead of kicking the crazy woman next door out.
She walked over to her closet, flipping through her clothes, looking for something cute to wear to work, feeling rather disappointed that she apparently hadn't unpacked nearly as much as she'd thought. She barely even noticed the thing on the floor, her mind telling her it was just a pile of shoes or something, until it skittered away suddenly. She let out a loud shriek, stumbling backward, putting a hand to her chest. What was that? It had moved like an insect, and she could have sworn it had way more than four legs, but it had been way too big for that... Or at least she hoped so. It had to be a rat, she surmised, which was hardly any better. The super had never mentioned anything to her about rats! She supposed she should have considered it, but still... Maybe it would be better to just move out completely, she thought. Not that there had been anything else nearby she could afford.
She shivered at the thought, suddenly wanting nothing to do with her closet. She obviously wasn't going to work dressed as she was, but she could at least put off getting dressed a couple minutes while she got some coffee. That would warm her up. Disgusted, she hurried down the hall, wishing she had at least grabbed her slippers from the closet, turning the corner into the kitchen, only to be met with another surprise.
The blinds were drawn, letting in only a few slivers of light, but it was enough for her to see a teenaged girl sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in a cheerleading uniform, casually looking at the screen of a phone that looked an awful lot like Phoebe's. She looked up as Phoebe gave a shocked shriek and giggled. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" the girl said, getting up from the table. "I thought for a minute you were planning on sleeping all day! I know school is out for Christmas, but you still have to babysit your little sister!"
"G-Get out of here!" Phoebe demanded. "Who the hell are you?!"
"My, my," the girl chuckled, walking up to Phoebe and starting to circle around her. "I thought my mother said she'd fixed your attitude problem last night. Yep, look at how red your little thighs are under your jammies!" She gave Phoebe's tender backside a good smack, earning a second gasp from her - the first having come when Phoebe realized this was the woman from last night's daughter - then stepped back in front of her, grabbing her by the chin and squeezing her cheeks to make Phoebe open her mouth. Even in the midst of the strange assault, Phoebe couldn't help noticing that the girl was wearing gloves, too, just like her mother, and that her hands felt strangely strong beneath them. "She told me she washed your mouth out, too, but if you're using language like that, I guess she didn't do a very good job, did she?"
"Let me go!" Phoebe pulled free defiantly. "What is wrong with you people?! Just leave me alone!"
"I'd love to," the girl rolled her eyes. "Do you think I want to spend a second of my Christmas break with a little geek like you? But my mother told me I had to come and make sure you had the slightest idea of what it took to be a babysitter. And, frankly, I'm kind of doubting that. Where is your little sister?"
"Little sister?" Phoebe shook her head. "I thought she said it was my daughter."
"Daughter?!" That struck the girl as especially funny. "No wonder you failed sex ed! You have to have sex to have a daughter, silly, and everyone in school knows you're still a virgin!"
Phoebe wasn't even sure where to start responding to that, so she just stood there, flustered, for a few seconds. "I know she's not my daughter!" was what she landed on finally. "It was your stupid mother who said that! It's just a doll!"
"That's what I've heard," the girl cut her off. "She's a little doll. Now where is she?"
"That's not what I meant! And I am not still in school, and I'm definitely not... Where are you going?!" When she had failed to answer the question, the girl had walked around her, heading further into her apartment. Phoebe looked back at the coffee maker desperately, then hurried after the girl, not wanting her wandering around her home unattended.
The girl spotted the closed door of the guest room and let herself in, with Phoebe following close behind, confused when she saw that the boxes she'd put in front of the door had been moved. In fact, it liked like there were quite a few less boxes in there than she remembered, almost making her wonder if she'd dreamed trying to block the door. It was painfully obvious that the whole night hadn't been a dream, though it did feel like it.
That feeling hadn't ended the night before, either. The room was dark, even more than it had been the night before, a heavy pink curtain blocking out most of the sunlight. She had never seen it before, and she was pretty sure the doll's bed looked bigger now as well, crazy as that sounded. The doll toddled up to her, past the cheerleader, with an enthusiastic, "Hungry, mama!"
"Aww, isn't that sweet?" the girl said. "She thinks you're her mama, too! I guess you spend a lot of time together, huh? I guess you'd better get her fed!"
Phoebe put a hand to her head, which was beginning to ache almost as much as her other end. What had she done to deserve all this? "Listen, I already told your mother, I want you people to leave me alone! I will call the police, I swear!"
"Your mommy and daddy let you have a phone? Wow! I guess you are getting all grown up, aren't you?" the girl teased, as if she were talking to someone her own age, maybe a little younger, certainly not someone older than her, an adult.
"It is way too early to deal with this," Phoebe grumbled. "I'm going to make myself some coffee, and by the time it's finished, I want you out of my apartment."
"Coffee?! You don't want that! It'll stunt your growth, and you don't want that, do you, shrimp?" Phoebe glowered at her - she had never considered herself tall, exactly, and she had looked it up and found that she was pretty much average height, even if this family beside her was freakishly tall. "I think you need some milk! Come on, bring your little sister, and I'll get you a nice, big glass while you feed her."
"I am not feeding anything," Phoebe informed the girl. "I am getting my phone right now." She turned and stomped her way out of the room to the kitchen, where she'd dumped her purse the night before. She opened it up, reached in for her phone, and came out with a plastic toy, one that looked like a smartphone, but clearly was not. It was made out of cheap plastic, the "apps" just still pictures that, when she pressed them, began making silly noises or singing her the ABCs. It was only as she stared down at the infantile thing that she remembered the girl had been holding a phone when she came in, and she'd thought about how similar to her own it looked.
"Is that your phone?" the girl asked, just as Phoebe turned around. "That looks about right for you!" Before Phoebe could respond, she shoved the doll into her arms. "Why don't you get her set up in her high chair, and I'll get you a bottle and some food?"
"No!" Phoebe shook her head. "How about you stop playing around and give me my damn phone? This isn't funny!"
The girl turned to look at her. "That mouth soaping really didn't do much good, did it? Maybe I should take you next door for a second round. I'm sure she'd be happy to help."
"Give me my phone!" Phoebe insisted, stomping her foot, realizing only then that she was still holding the doll, which likely made her look like a little girl in the midst of a tantrum, so she clumsily tossed it aside.
"That's why you can't have a real phone!" the girl said. "If you can't even hold on to your baby sis, how can your mommy and daddy trust you with a phone?"
"She is not my sister, she is a doll! A doll! God!" She kicked the thing across the kitchen floor as it got to its feet, and before she knew what was happening, the cheerleader had grabbed her, picked her up with surprising strength, and plopped her stomach across the kitchen island. Her feet couldn't quite reach the floor, and, much like the night before, her backside was completely exposed - even more as she felt the cool morning air on her skin back there, and realized the daughter had done what the mother had threatened and bared her bottom. "No!" she shrieked, realizing what was in store for her, again. "You can't do this! You're a kid! I am an adult! You let me down right now!"
She gulped, protests cut short as she felt the girl's gloved hand rub a circle around her red rump. "She did quite a number on you, didn't she? But not good enough. You are the worst babysitter I've ever seen. We have a lot of work to do! Your problem is, you're still just a selfish little brat yourself, but you have to grow up a little to take care of a kid."
Phoebe had no idea why these people were so obsessed with the idea of her taking care of that doll, but obviously that was what they wanted, and if it saved her another spanking, she was going to give it to them. "Okay, okay, I will! I'll feed her, though I don't have a high chair! Please, just don't do this!"
"Don't have a high chair?" the girl chuckled. "You are so silly sometimes! Of course you do! How else would you feed your little sister?"
"I don't!" Phoebe insisted, until the girl turned her head toward the kitchen table. It was still dark over there, but in the shadows, she definitely did see that one of the chairs looked a bit bigger than the others, with what looked like a tray. "Wh.. But... You brought that!"
"Wow!" the girl giggled. "I knew you were ditzy, but I had no idea how bad it was! No wonder you're flunking all your classes!"
"I'm not!" Phoebe growled, annoyed at this weird game almost as much as the one where they pretended the doll was real. "I'm not even in school!"
"Oh, did they decide to pull you out already so you could repeat the grade next fall? Good choice! Maybe I can tutor you. Won't that be fun? Everyone thinks you're a nerd because you're so awkward, but aren't nerds supposed to be smart? You always said that cheerleaders are airhead bimbos... How is it going to look when one of them has to tutor you so you have a prayer of passing even one of your classes? Oh, you can't hide it - I know you're excited to get to hang out with me! The only reason you insulted us cheerleaders is because you're jealous, isn't it? Don't worry, I'll let you come to our practices! You can sit on the field and work, and watch us do things you aren't smart or coordinated enough to pull off yourself. Maybe we'll even get you your own little uniform, and you can be our mascot! That's almost as good as being on the squad! At least... It's as close as you're going to get!"
"I do not want to be a cheerleader!" Phoebe insisted, squirming on the counter. "I want you to let me up, give me my phone, and get the hell out of my apartment!"
"But our lessons are starting, silly!" Phoebe swallowed nervously, feeling the girl's hand rest on her bottom again.
"Please!" Phoebe squeaked. "Please, don't do this!"
"What's wrong?" the girl teased. "Are you afraid of a little bare-bottom spanking?" Phoebe nodded quickly. "All right, you big baby," the cheerleader said, and, much to Phoebe's surprise, she felt her clothes being tugged back into place. The girl didn't help her down, however, and, instead, Phoebe heard her unfold the top of a box and begin rummaging through it. "There we go! First try!" Before Phoebe could ask what she'd found, she walked around the front of the island, holding Phoebe's biggest wooden spoon in front of her.
"No!" Phoebe gasped.
"Yes!" the cheerleader responded playfully. "You didn't want a bare-bottom spanking, so I covered your cute little tushy up! But you still deserve a good spanking..."
Phoebe whimpered as she watched the girl tapping the spoon against her hand. It would be bad enough going into work as she was now - at the thought, she looked desperately up at her clock and realized she needed to get this little brat out of there pretty soon if she wanted a chance of not being late - but a second, likely even worse, round of spanking would keep her from being able to sit still for a week, she was sure! Part of that week would contain Christmas, so she wouldn't have to worry about it then, but most of the rest of the time it would be a pretty big problem.
"Please, I know this is fun for you in some weird way, but I have to start getting ready to go to work! Just let me go, and I promise, I won't call the cops, okay? You can even come over and help me learn to babysit or whatever when I get home!" Phoebe had no intention of any of that, since her office had its own phone, but if that was what it took to get rid of the girl, and hopefully her mother, she would say whatever she needed to.
"What a silly goose! You don't go to work! You're still in school, and you're not even really in that! Even if it wasn't Christmas break, you've already failed everything, haven't you? There's no point in you going back! Even if they sent you back a grade, I bet you'd still have trouble! When was the last grade where you could actually do your work well? Was it third grade? First? Preschool?" The girl grinned down at her before starting to circle back around behind her.
Phoebe whined, trying to wriggle her way off of her counter, only for the girl to pin her in place with one strong hand. Phoebe regretted a lot of things - moving here in the first place, not calling the police or at least the super the night before, not making sure her front door was locked before going to bed - but at the moment, the biggest one was not stopping by the bathroom on her way to get her coffee started. Her bladder had been feeling quite full, but she hadn't even considered a pit stop, because she knew it would only take a second to get the machine started, and then she could go in peace, knowing that it would be almost ready by the time she was done. Now, she hadn't done either, but the longer she squirmed in place, edge of the counter digging into her stomach, growing more terrified with each passing second, the more she worried that one of those goals was about to accomplish itself.
Sure enough, she barely had time to say, "Wait, I..!" before she heard, and, more importantly, felt, the spoon thwack against her ass. Her legs gave an involuntary kick, but, far worse, she felt her overtaxed bladder spasm as the pain shot through her body. A rush of warm urine gushed out into her thin panties, which she felt soak almost instantly as she tried desperately to stop the flow. She managed it, but all she could think about was whether that accident would be visible to her tormentor, standing back there with her spoon. For a long moment, she thought that maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought, though she worried about what would happen with the next strike, and the one after that, and then, to her horror, she heard a laugh.
"Did you even make it through preschool all right? Because obviously you can't even handle potty training!" the girl mocked, setting down the spoon, much to Phoebe's relief, and picking her up, setting her down on the floor. Phoebe had never felt shorter, standing there, staring down at her feet in front of the towering teen, horrified to see the wet spot on the crotch of her pajamas. "Or are you just that scared of me? Is that it?" The girl surprised Phoebe by darting forward, tickling her stomach. Phoebe wasn't usually all that ticklish, but she hadn't been expecting it, and she was already working hard to put her bladder back in check, so she couldn't help letting out a startled laugh, and a little something else. Her laughter turned to a horrified squeal as she pressed her hands to her crotch, fighting to stop the second round even as she felt the wetness begin to run down her legs. "You are!" the girl declared happily. "Oh, how precious! I guess we'll have to add a little diaper to your cheerleading uniform when you come visit me for tutoring! I mean, if one cheerleader does this to you, just imagine how you'd react with a whole squad! Don't worry, we all love babies - I'm sure they'd love to check your diaper, and even change you, right there on the field!"
"I don't need diapers!" Phoebe insisted desperately, almost more like she was trying to convince herself than the girl.
The girl patted her on the head. "Of course you don't. Now, I think we've made your poor little sister wait long enough. Go wash your hands and I'll get her meal ready." The girl turned to do just that, but when Phoebe started a mad dash to the bathroom, she was back on her in an instant. "You are just asking for a spanking, aren't you?"
"Can't I go to the bathroom first?!" Phoebe wailed.
"It looks like you already are," the girl sneered. "Besides, as a babysitter, you have to learn to put the kids first. I'm sure you can hold it long enough to get her fed. I saw your little panties, and obviously your mommy think so, anyway. She doesn't even have you in Pull-Ups!"
"I don't need Pull-Ups, but I..." Phoebe tried to explain, tugging at the girl's grip.
The girl shook her head, tugging Phoebe over to the sink and starting up the water. She grabbed the soap - even though it was liquid, Phoebe still had a brief flashback of the night before - and squeezed some into Phoebe's palm, then rubbed Phoebe's hands together for her before holding them under the water. "I can wash my hands myself!" Phoebe blushed.
"You weren't doing it," the girl shook her head, taking a towel and drying Phoebe's hands off. "You might as well see how this is done, anyway." The doll's bottle and bowl were sitting next to the sink, and the girl filled them both with water. She then took a package from beside the bowl and ripped it open, sprinkling its contents into the bowl, then stirring it up with the little plastic spoon. The water looked like it might have thickened just slightly, but mostly it seemed to color it brown. "Go put your sister in her chair. I don't know if I can trust you to carry these without spilling."
"I really hafta go!" Phoebe was practically bouncing in place now, her two little accidents having done nothing to stop the growing pressure in her bladder. Instead, they only seemed to make it worse. She reached out, trying to push her hands between her legs again, but the girl smacked them away.
"I just washed your hands, young lady! Now, you hold it until your sister is nice and full, or you'll be sorry! Do you understand?" Phoebe had little choice but to nod, even as she felt a few more drops dribble their way into her panties.
Luckily for her, the doll was waiting for her beside her feet with a, "Hungry, mama!", raising its arms for Phoebe to bend down and pick it up. Phoebe groaned as the action encouraged her body to let a little more pee loose, and hurried to get the doll to its chair, snapping the tray into place. She didn't worry too much about where the chair had come from, though the girl or her mother had to have brought it. The girl set the bowl and bottle down on the tray, and Phoebe quickly grabbed the latter and shoved it into the doll's mouth.
She almost thought she had a chance as she watched the doll drink, even as she felt slightly disgusted watching its far too realistic looking mouth work. It seemed very eager to drink its bottle, and she was happy to oblige, glad to be halfway done as she pulled the thing free and began scooping up the colored water in the bowl. She didn't even get the first spoonful to the doll's mouth before it said, "Wet, mama!"
"Of course you are," Phoebe said under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Just eat this!" As the spoon approached, the doll's mouth opened wider, and she slipped the spoon inside, dumping its contents down the doll's "throat". It took much longer than the bottle, because she either had to take very little at a time to keep from spilling it, or move very slowly for the same reason. She'd only gotten a few spoonfuls in when she saw the bottle being set back down on the tray, having been too busy with her task to notice it being taken in the first place. "That's not fair!" she pouted.
"Didn't you see how thirsty she was?" the girl asked. "Besides, she needs something to wash her food down! Don't be a brat!"
Phoebe grumbled, squirming desperately in place. She'd already had far more of an accident than she had in years, but it was growing increasingly obvious that it was only going to get worse. The cheerleader was looming over her now, ensuring she couldn't make it to the bathroom, and the doll was yapping, "Wet, mama!" between every bite, to the point where it almost began to feel more like a suggestion than a cry for help. Phoebe was determined not to do it, not to pee herself while she played with her doll, like a little girl who got too distracted playing house, but she knew it was already too late, even before she felt her already overflowing panties get deluged one final time. She stood there, hand frozen in mid-stir in the bowl, as her bladder betrayed her, emtpying itself completely while she stood there, mortified.
"Mama wet," the doll said one more time, and this time Phoebe could have sworn the thing sounded like it was merely stating a fact.
"Oh, my God!" the girl giggled, watching the liquid pour down Phoebe's legs, into a puddle beneath her. "What a baby! You know your little sister is going to remember this forever, don't you? When it's time to potty train her, she's going to ask your mommy why she has to learn to use the potty when her big sissy can't! Oh, this is too funny!"
Phoebe's cheeks were burning as bright as Rudolph's nose. "Can I go change now?" she whimpered.
"No! You have to finish feeding the baby, silly! Come on, you're getting there!" So, as the urine in her pants and on her legs began to cool, Phoebe continued to feed he doll, feeling more ridiculous with every spoon she emptied into its mouth. She was so glad to finally be back on the bottle that she didn't care how much slower it drank this time.
"Messy, mama!" the doll cried as soon as she took the bottle away.
"Can I go change now?" Phoebe begged the cheerleader, wanting out of the cold and clammy pajamas desperately.
"You should really change your little sister first. She can't help her accidents, but you should be old enough to, shouldn't you? So they're your fault."
"No, they're your fault for not letting me go to the bathroom!" Phoebe pouted.
"Whatever you say, drippy drawers. I'm just saying, maybe you should change the baby first. You don't have to listen to me; I'm just the more experienced babysitter." Phoebe glared at her, trying to figure out if this was a trick, but she was too disgusted by what she'd done - been forced to do - to care. She stomped off across the apartment, heading for her room. She didn't make it, though, the girl grabbing her arm and yanking her to a stop right in front of the bathroom door, pushing her inside. "You get yourself cleaned up," she instructed. "I'll bring you some clothes."
"I need to get dressed for work," Phoebe pointed out to the girl. "I have to..."
"This isn't time to play make-believe. Just get washed up," the cheerleader told her, closing the door. Phoebe had no idea what time it was, but she had a bad feeling she was going to be late, and if she had to change her clothes again after getting dressed in whatever the girl picked for her, that would only make things worse.
Still, it felt very nice to get clean after her accident, and drying off when she was done felt even better. She was just about to wrap herself in her towel to head out when the bathroom door burst open and the girl walked in, prompting Phoebe to desperately try to cover her bare body. "Here we go! I found you the perfect outfit! I knew you wanted to be a cheerleader! What is this, a Halloween costume?"
Phoebe blushed as the girl held up a cheerleading uniform, one that looked somewhat similar to the girl's own, except pink instead of blue, one piece instead of two, and a little shorter. "That's not mine!" Phoebe insisted.
"Well, it was in your closet," the girl told her. "And look what I found in your dresser... I had a feeling you had your little accident just a little too easily! I bet your mommy'll be mad when I tell her you were in your big girl panties, won't she?" Phoebe stared, dumbfounded, as the girl held up what looked exactly like a large pair of Pull-Ups, just like she'd seen in commercials, except in her size.
"That is definitely not mine!" Phoebe gasped.
"Oh, no?" the girl smirked, grabbing Phoebe and pulling her, towel quickly falling from its precariously tucked position and leaving her completely naked, to her bedroom, where the top drawer of her dresser was open. Off in one corner was some of the underwear Phoebe remembered unpacking, but most of the drawer was taken up by rows of Pull-Ups, except for one side, which held something even worse, that the cheerleader was all too happy to pick up, dropping her chosen outfit for Phoebe onto her bed. "I bet these aren't yours, either," she said, holding the thick, overnight diaper up in front of Phoebe's face. "I bet your mommy will be especially mad when she hears you were in your PJs without your protection! You could have ruined your mattress, you bad little girl!"
"I don't need protection! I don't wet the bed!" Phoebe insisted.
"Sure you don't!" the girl giggled. "Just like you don't pee your pants! Now come on, into your training panties!" She grabbed the Pull-Ups from the bed and spread them out, kneeling down in front of Phoebe's feet. "Come on, step in!"
"No!" Phoebe shook her head. "No, I'm not letting you do this! Those aren't mine, and I know it!"
"Then why are they in your room?" the girl asked. "And even if they aren't, I think you've earned them. Now get in, or I'll go get the spoon again."
"This isn't fair!" Phoebe whined, defiantly keeping her feet planted on the floor, until the girl began to count.
"One... Two... Two and a half..." she chanted ominously.
Phoebe tried to resist, but she was sure this little brat would be all too willing to go through with her threat, so, sulking, she lifted her foot, letting the girl slide the humiliating garment onto it. "Good girl!" she was praised, and it was repeated when she raised her other foot. After that, it only took a few seconds for the girl to pull the padded underwear up, and one final, crinkly pat to confirm that she was, indeed, dressed like a toddler. The girl pushed Phoebe down onto the bed and set to work putting her hair into pigtails, tying them in place with a set of pink ribbons that matched the cheerleading uniform. After that was a pair of lacy white ankle socks, and then, finally, the girl slid the uniform into place, covering the nearly nude Phoebe.
It had been hard to judge exactly how long it was while the girl had been holding it, but it turned out to be even shorter than Phoebe had expected, meaning she flashed her childish underthings with nearly every move she made, much to her embarrassment. "Aww, so cute! You're going to look so cute, sitting out there on the field working on your homework!" the girl teased. Before Phoebe could respond, the girl had her back up on her feet and was guiding her back to the kitchen, where the doll was stll complaining about its messy diaper. The girl already had a changing pad and supplies laid out.
Phoebe glanced over at the clock on the stove, heart lurching a bit as she saw how late it was. She had no doubt that her boss had already called to see where she was, but she didn't have her phone, and it didn't seem likely that the girl was going to give it back anytime soon. "I need to get going," she whined.
"Already? You just went! Well, at least you have some protection now." The girl laughed when she saw the look on Phoebe's face. "Sweetie, you aren't going anywhere. If you ask me one more time, I'll have to punish you. Now change your sister."
Phoebe sighed, kneeling down in front of the changing pad. The doll toddled up to her, and she laid it down, going through the same process as the night before, though this time there was a brown stain on the seat of the diaper from the colored water she'd been forced to feed it. The doll was happy to go back to running around once she was finished, but she wasn't given the same chance.
"You might as well stay down there," the girl told her. "You need to clean up after yourself, too."
"Okay," Phoebe sighed. It really was probably a good idea not to leave her puddle there until she got home from work. "Then can I leave?"
The girl shook her head. "You just don't listen, do you? No wonder you can't get good grades! Finish up here, then come to the living room." The doll followed after the girl, leaving Phoebe alone. It was too bad she had to pass through the living room to get out, she mused, or she might be able to escape. Instead, all she could do was present herself for punishment and hope for something quick.
In the middle of her living room was a wooden desk, one like she'd had at school growing up. It hadn't been in her apartment before, but that was starting not to shock her anymore. "There you are!" the girl exclaimed when she walked in. "Sit down!" Phoebe did as she was told, wincing as her sore backside came into contact with the hard seat. "You are probably the worst babysitting student I've ever seen," the cheerleader said. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, though. It's a good thing I live right next door so somebody competent will be around to watch your sister, since you clearly can't do it. But even if you can't babysit her, you still have to be nice to her. So you are going to write out, one hundred times, 'I love my baby sister.' Then, you are going to write two hundred times, 'I will do everything my babysitter tells me to do,' because when I'm here, I won't just be watching her... You are going to listen to me, too. Just like you will at school. Then, finally, you are going to write three hundred times, 'I must not wet my pants,' because you are too old for that, aren't you? Bad girl! You are not to get up until you've finished all of them, and if your little Pull-Ups are wet when you do get up..." The girl tapped the wooden spoon on her hand ominously. "Do you understand?"
Phoebe wanted to shake her head, to get up, to storm back to her room, get dressed, and head to work, where she was supposed to be. But she had been trying to do just that all morning, and it had only gotten her into deeper and deeper trouble. She sighed, hoping that her boss would understand when she finally did get her phone back to call her and try to come up with an explanation. "I understand," she sighed, picking up her pencil and starting to write her lines, like a good little girl.