Baby Gilinsky // Jack Gilinsky

Chapter 1

•Emmiey•

"Momma, I'm bored," My son six-year-old Tommy whined as I pushed the shopping cart through the isle at the grocery store.
"Well I'd rather you be bored than hungry," I said to him as I pulled a pack of carrots off the shelf and popped them into the cart.

"I am hungry," He sassed.

"Well then I say we head out to Taco Bell after this," I grinned at him.

"I like your thinking, mom," He grinned at me, fist bumping me.

Looking at my son, I could already tell he was going to be a looker once he hit puberty. He inherited most of his looks from his father. The dark hair, the almost completely prominent jawline, and oh goodness, let's not forget the eyebrows.

Tommy always reminded me of his father, Jack. Jack Gilinsky. I'm pretty sure you've heard of him. Oh, who am I kidding. Of course you have. Anyways, he and I had a thing from when I was fourteen and he was sixteen till I was sixteen and he was eighteen. That's when I fell pregnant with Tommy. I told him straight away about the pregnancy and you can imagine how shocked I was when he denied the baby being his. Said I was lying about him being the father. So yeah, we broke up and I haven't ever seen him since then. He started dating Madison Beer four months after we broke up which proved to me that he didn't care about our relationship. Tommy was born six months later and since then, I haven't looked back. I got my degree in journalism and I managed to raise my son by myself. I guess I didn't even need Jack.

"Mommy, you just went right past the pickles," Tommy groaned, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? What? Oh, I'm sorry," I apologised, turning the cart around and in the process bumping into a rack.

"Mom, your driving sucks," My son sniggered, causing me to glare at him.

"Yeah well, you, pfft," I mumbled, unable to think of a comeback.

"Tommy, 1. Momma, 0," He smirked, causing me to laugh as I grabbed a jar of pickles off the shelf.

After shopping around some more, I paid for the groceries before Tommy and I left.

"Mom, can I please go to Game Stop and see if they have the new Sims?" He asked me with his grey wide pleading eyes. That's one feature he inherited from me. My eye colour.

"Let's go to the stationary shop first and pick up your order," I said to him.

"Mooooomm," He groaned.

"Tommy, I don't want you walking there alone. Only goodness knows what could happen to you on the way there," I panicked.

"Mom," He dead-eyed me, pointing to the store that was just two shops away. Okay, sue me. I'm kind of a protective mommy. Deal with it.

"Alright, fine," I sighed as he happily climbed out of the shopping cart. "But you stay right there until I come get you," I warned.

"Yup, I promise I will," He grinned before walking away to the store.

After waiting a while and making sure that he actually walked into the store, I headed towards the stationary shop to pick up the order for Tommy's stationary. Yep, my boy's starting grade school in September.

After picking up the order, I headed to Game Stop where my son would be waiting for me. Walking around the shop, I couldn't find his head of dark hair anywhere and after exactly seven minutes of looking, I began to freak out.

"Tommy? Where are you?!" I called through the isles, frantically looking for my son. "Thomas Spencer Oliver, you'd better not be playing games with me!" I said, now fully starting to panic.