Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 16.: Panicking

So far, so good. The kid hasn't cried for whole afternoon and has been most of the time asleep or eating his fingers in the crib. Now, you're probably thinking: 'Wow, Nate, you're doing so good! While the baby was asleep, you must've done some extra important project too, because you're so naturally awesome!'

Thank you, thank you, I appreciate it, but no. I've been glued to the crib watching the meatloaf sleep, like I am some creepy Mr. Pedo.

As I am glaring down at like, like he's my Bella and I'm his Edward, a smile tugs at my lips. He looks so peaceful, so innocent, so soft and fragile it begins to melt my heart. Of course, babies are innocent, what the hell did I expect to get? A-star pornstar?

I shake my head at all of this and continue to observe him. He's been so still and sleepy, I panicked every now and then if he was still breathing. To my luck, he's a healthy baby, just resting his poor head, so he could shit all over mine when the time comes.

I try to lift up my spirits and it springs to me that won't happen, if I keep sitting at the crib. That's why I leave the room, keep the doors open, just in case something might happen and decide to give in to temptation and accept the drink I've offered myself before.

What the fuck have I been thinking and how the fuck could a fucking bartender get me to do this shit?

Deep down, I know bartender only gave me a summary of our conversation when I was coma drunk. Not to mention, he meant adoption in a sarcastic manner. Nate, you're such a fucktard, I swear to fucking hell.

I pace around my apartment, swallowing down the burning liquid, hoping to get lightheaded soon enough, so I could cope with this idiocracy I unleashed upon me.

As I continue to drink alone, lonely and frustrated, my intercome starts screaming, scaring the shit out of me, so I nearly drop the original Jack Daniels glass. Shit, the baby!

I quickly run to answer the intercom and find out who decided to come and ruin my self-loathing afternoon. I press the button on the intercom and say "Who is it?"

"It's Austin, let me in." I hear the disembodied voice and bite my lip in pain.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Without saying anything, I press the button that opens the door and living here for few years, I know he'll be up in about two to three minutes, meaning I have that much time to prepare for his ultimate scolding.

First things first, I have to hide the baby. I rush to the room, check if he's asleep or if he's awake or whatever the fuck he's doing, then leave the room and close the door. That should do, I mean Austin won't just walk around the apartment and search it, right?

I don't mind how screwed up my apartment looks, Austin has seen it in a worse state. I stroll to the front door and just when I'm about to open it and meet him, he's standing right in front of me, ready to barge in, like he is a character from a movie Scream.

I jump back and cuss my way through the stress "Jesus, Austin!"

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" He yells at me. No hello, no what's up, just yelling and only yelling. He marches in and I close the door behind him, I believe we're gonna need some privacy for what Austin has in store for me.

"You'll wake the baby!" I warn him in a quieter voice, so I wouldn't end up looking ironic.

He glares at me in disbelief, his green eyes unnaturally wide "So it's true?!!"

"Will you shut up?!" I warn him a bit louder and sigh after silence is finally present. I rub my face and nod "Yeah, it's true."

"You have a fucking kid?"