Page 90 of Dare You to Run
“I’m c-cold, not hot D,” I explain.
“No, you’re not. You’re crashing. Get this off. You need more air.” Malik scurries to help D, and they work to yank my arms free.
The jacket gets tossed and I feel my face being fanned.
“How do you feel?”
“A little better,” I pant.
“Not physically feeling. How do you feel about the baby?” Danté clarifies.
I inhale a steady breath and open my eyes. “Up until about ten minutes ago I felt excited. Shocked, but excited for a future. Then the reality all came crashing down and I realize I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with a baby. The only kids I’ve been around are the fosters and Dagen’s little brother and sister a couple of times. I don’t know how to care for a child of my own.”
“It’ll kick in. You’ll hold your kid and instinct will take over.” I arch a brow at Malik as does Danté. “So I hear. I don’t know first hand.”
“I bet Dagen feels the same way. I imagine caring for a child, twenty-four seven, is much different than watching a sibling for a few hours.” For such an asshole, Danté seems to be tapping into his emotional side lately.
We grow silent, only the sounds of the passing cars filling the air.
“So I guess you’re moving then, huh?” Danté’s face falls, realizing the one thing he worried about most is coming true.
“Temporarily. We decided that I’m going to split my time between here and Waco –mostly there– until she graduates. Then we’ll move here.”
Dantè’s melancholy eyes fill with a little light.
“Fucking sweet! I call dibs on babysitting.” Malik, like I expected, is far too excited about this new development.
“I told Dagen you were going to be annoying about it.” Mal sticks his tongue out at me, but returns to smiling.
“I know you’re scared but I think it’s really great.” I hurt my neck with how quickly my head flies back at Dantè’s word. “Yeah, yeah. Not what you expected me to say, but I mean it. If any of us are going to be a dad, it should definitely be you.”
“Hey. I take offense. I’m a fucking teacher,” Mal protests, crossing his arms like the children he spends his days with.
“Making flowers from coffee filters and story time are a bit different than being a responsible parent. Think about it, Mal.” Danté sits on the ground, knees bent and arms hanging over them. “Who’s the person that has always made sure we have everything we need? Which one of us is the first to take the others to the doctors when we’re sick? Who watched out for us and protected us when we were in trouble, even though it landed him in even more trouble?”
Malik nods his head, deep in reflection. “You got a point there, D. I kind of ick out thinking about changing shit diapers and throw up. And interrupted sleep? Yeah, not my jam.”
“Well it’s not really mine either, but it’s happening either way,” I add.
Danté grips my shoulder and squeezes. “We got you, brother. You won’t go at it alone. I dare anyone to try us.”
The three of us exchange a silent solidarity to always have each other’s backs. Just like it’s always been and always will be.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Hendrix squeezesmy hand when we turn down the long dirt road that leads to my parents house. I picked him up in Dallas yesterday, where he flew in to, and took the evening to prepare for today’s meeting with Mom and Dad.
I threw up –nothing new lately– he had a mild panic attack thinking my Dad’s going bury him under a pile of horse shit, and together we promised not to let anything break us. Not even my parent’s anger once they not only hear that I’m pregnant, but plan to move to Cattywump Bay after graduating.
He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “It’ll be okay, little mouse. No matter what happens, you’ve got me.”
A self-deprecating laugh falls from my mouth. “You say that. Just wait until daddy dearest takes the credit cards and financial support away. I hear I’m a bit of a spoiled brat.”
He gives me one of his heart stopping crooked grins. “One, you are a brat.” I gasp and smack his arm with my free hand. “And two, I’ll take care of you. You’ll never want for anything and neither will T.D.”
I screw up my face at him. “Who’s T.D?”
“Tiny Dare. Until we know if it’s a boy or girl, we’re going with T.D. Then we’ll discuss what his name will be later.”
