Music ✔️

Chapter 36

7 weeks later
About 39 weeks!

~Millicent~

"I hate my life," I grumble, trying my hardest to reach my feet, my shoe in my hand.

"Y'know, I would be delighted to help you," Emily offers.

"Any of us, honestly. Anything to get out of this house and to the park like we planned," Ash adds, gesturing to our whole group.

"No! I'm old enough to do this myself! I should be able to do this myself!" I pout.

Donovan gets up from the couch with a sigh to rub my shoulder. "Milly, you are about ready to burst. You haven't been able to see your feet in a long time. It wasn't a problem then and it shouldn't be one now since you're so close to your freedom, okay? They're just shoes. Nothing serious. Let me help, yeah?"

I huff. "Fine."

He smiles triumphantly, helping me to sit down and to slip on my Vans. He looks at me and I feel sane again. This thing inside of me is growing and it's not just the baby. Sometimes I feel like the Grinch. Like my already big heart grows three times its original size everyday and I don't know why. I'm learning to appreciate things more than I did before. I'm loving things harder, if that makes any sense. I told the love of my life this and it didn't say anything. Probably because it doesn't have a voice yet and it's also not a real person yet. I hope it actually listens, though. I value its opinion greatly.

We make it to the park within the hour. All of us lie down on the ground, well, the four of them lie down while I recline uncomfortably. We stare up at the clouds, pointing out immature shapes to each other, enjoying the company of our friends surrounding us.

Tyler points up at the sky. "That looks like Pete Wentz's naked bits."

"It's not a bad dick," I mimic Brendon Urie's slurred frat-boy voice. "1, 2, 3! 3, 2, 1! 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10! 10 to 1!"

We all giggle.

"Superb impression, Millicent," Ty says. "10 out of 10."

"Why, thank-..." Sharp kicks strike my ribs from the inside. I clutch my side. "Damn it."

"Hospital?" Donovan offers.

"It's just Braxton Hicks," I reassure him. "Not yet. I'm not due for another week."

"I know," he drags his words like they're too heavy to speak. "I'm just excited."

"I have to ask you something," Emily interrupts.

"What?" I reply.

"Didn't you write a song?"

"Barely. Why?"

"Promise me something."

"Promise you what, Em?"

"That you name it after her."

"After who?"

"Your daughter."

Don rolls his eyes. "How do you kno-"

"I can feel it. Just promise me that, okay?"

I nod. "Okay. I promise."

"Good. Let's go home. It's getting late."

We always leave when the stars come, though we want to stay. It takes 30 minutes to get me to the car. Half of those trying to get me off the ground after I beg them to leave my fat ass for the squirrels and the other half of helping me waddle to the parking lot. I fall asleep with my head on his shoulder within the next 5 minutes simply because of that tiring workout.