INSTA-Daddy

6

After class, I had to stop by at the student council office first. I'm required to show myself there every Monday's, Thursdays, and Fridays.

Liz went home already right upon dismissal.

I don't want to go home yet anyways. Today's my first day at Tom's house and I'm nowhere near excited. I'm pretty sure he isn't that much hyped up either. But, we technically don't have a choice.

Wesley stopped by minutes ago and brought me a cup of Coffee from the coffee shop across the school called Grind Me. I'm not sure if pregnant woman are allowed for coffee or not, but I love coffee so here goes nothing.

There's nothing much to do at the office today. Literally nothing. Me, along with the other student council members here are just doing what they usually do.

Margie, the SC Pres, was reading a Harry Potter novel.

Henz, a Board of Trustee like me, was playing Spiderman PS4 again.
Robert, the Senior Class B Representative, together with the Freshmen representatives are busy checking out Instagram models on their phones-- probably.

Or there is that chance they're watching porn. But, who knows and who cares.

What I care is that my stomach is starting to hurt again. Do stomachs usually hurt when your pregnant? I sure hope so. Don't want to have any complications with my child inside my embryo.

"Oh Gabby. I almost forgot." Margie called out. She got up from desk and came up to me.

I trailed her and she smiled. "Here," she layed two thick folded documents on my desk. "Can you please bring this to Principal Wilmer's office," she added.

I flipped the first two-three pages to do a little skimming but Maggie summarized it otherwise.

"Those are just a couple of proposals for the school fieldtrips. And other future events for Brentwood that needs approvals."

My eyes widened upon hearing a proposed school fieldtrip. I hope Principal Wilmer approves. I'll bet my life on it.

I immediately got up from my chair and dashed out of the SC office without any sign of reluctance.

I mean, there's a freakin' field trip on the list!

I happily rushed through the hallway , not noticing that I was about to bump unto someone. It was too late when I did.

We fell on the floor, his back first and I was on top of him. I gasped once I realized who the guy was.

Talk about small world.

"How are you so stupid and still alive?" He bleaked, pushing me off him and got up for himself without even helping me.

I rose myself up. "Thanks a lot Tom."

Some of the papers inside the folders were scattered on the floor and there was no choice but for me to pick them up. Tom didn't even bothered to help.

He smirked and just watched me like the thug asshole that he is.

"You should be nice to me you know. I have a little Tommie inside of me," I teased. His mood began to change and he just smirked once more.

"Whatever," he murmured. "Why are you in such a hurry anyway? Where ya goin'?"

Woah. Why is he asking anyways? I gave him a doubtful look before giving away any answers.

"Principal Wilmer. I have some documents that need his approval," I replied. He yawned after I responded, very insulting by the way.

What a total asshat. I thought to myself.

"Right. Not that you care," I mumbled.

"No. No I don't." He said crassly.

Ugh. I rolled my eyes and ignored him but he kept blocking my path.

"Uhh excuse me. I really need to go," I commanded.

He sighed and had his hand raised up at the back of his head. His eyes weren't focused on me. As a matter of fact, it seemed like they were trying to avoid looking at me.

"Do you need something from me? Cause I really need to take this to the Principal's office before Mr. Wilmer leaves," I'm beginning to get annoyed with this guy. Ugh.

"W..what would you like for dinner?"

I blinked as my mouth dropped open. Tom pushed my chin gently upward to close my mouth. He flashed this lop-sided smile which was slightly cute. Slightly.

"Well??" His eyes met mine but he looked away quickly, his hand still rubbing the back of his hair.

I jolted my head and patted the sides of my forehead gently. I could not believe what I was hearing. The legendary Dirty Tom is asking me what I want for dinner. Wowow.

There really is a first for everything.

"Look if you're not gonna answer then fine. No dinner for you. Starve yourself to death," he tsk-tsked, shaking his head,  stroding away from me.

I managed to restrain myself back to normal and yelped. "Shawarma would be nice."

He froze and looked back at me. He had this ick-face on him.

"Sh-sha-what?"

"Shawarma," I smiled and ignored what he'll say next and just continued walking.

I did manage to catch up with Principal Wilmer just in time. He had just finished locking his office when I arrived. I handed him the files and he told me he'll take a look at it first thing tomorrow. After settling everything down, I went straigth to my new home.

Having that conversation earlier with Tom made me feel a bit eased with the thought of living with him. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Or so I thought.

When I arrived at his apartment, everything was a mess. It was as if a hurricane destroyed the insides of the house.

His clothes were everywhere, unwashed dishes are still partying at the sink, and junk food wrappers and candy bar wrappers lying all over the floor. I also noticed his boxer hanging on the television.

A loud snore echoed throughout the living room. I sneaked around to see where the sound was coming from and voila, Tom Henderson lying on the tiled floor with his left foot raised up on the sofa.

I repressed myself from killing him at this very instance, instead, I hopped over the sofa's headrest, stood beside where Tom was lying, slightly raised my foot and swiftly stepped on his stomach hard.

He wailed so loud and crouched on his tummy. I bursted out laughing evilly. I can't help it. Seeing him in pain was so funny. He looked like one of those cartoon characters crying in severe agony.

He got up, pushed me roughly down the sofa and squeezed my shoulders tightly. It kinda hurt and I made sure he got the message, however he didn't let go.

His eyes were piercing right through me. His grip on my shoulder tightened, my eye twitched. I saw his one hand clutched.

My heart skipped when he raised his arm up and aimed his fist at me.

Uh-oh. Now I've done it. I'm gonna die.

I closed my eyes shut as I wait to feel a punch on my face, mumbling all sorts of prayers inside my head along as well.

But there was no punch. And no more shoulder squeezing as well. Rather, he just kicked his foot in mid-air.

I sighed in relief. I really thought I was going to die. I can't believe he was about to punch a pregnant girl before his eyes.

Or was he..

"Fuck you Gabby," he mumbled. "Just fuck you."

"For what?!" Oh right. I stomped on his stomach while he was sleeping. I guess it was my bad then.

"Shut up and eat your fucking Shawarma," he grunted, pointing to the table in the kitchen that was just adjacent to the living room...

Which, as a matter of fact, looked way worse.

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