Chapter Seven - Spooky Co-parenting

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The week passes quickly in a flurry of boring lessons, uneventful lunchtimes and dull detentions. Frankly, when Friday comes around, I'm near jumping for glee. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's nice to come to school without a fish in my locker or smoothie in my hair, but I'm feeling as though life is incredibly mundane at the moment, so the weekend best offer the sweet relief of underage drinking and dancing till dawn.

When I suggest this to Alena, she's quick to return that non other than our very own Sebastian Walker is planning on throwing an impromptu party on Saturday. Of course, I'm quick to punch him in the shoulder for not mentioning anything to me, his very best friend in the whole wide world, but he assures me that he mentioned nothing to anyone until he was absolutely sure his parents were going to his grandma's for the weekend. Thank goodness for old people and their incontinence!

It might actually be the most excited I've been for a long while. After feeling completely overwhelmed with the project, Elijah in general, then Adam and the crescendo of Disney princess songs at home, this might be the best news of the year. Even more so, it'll be the first time in months that all five of us, Natalie included, will be together.

In my second period, I have a free slot, so I spend it in the common area, placing the final touches on my section of the essay. I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I've absolutely smashed it. I sound smart, sophisticated, and my referencing skills are impeccable. Hopefully, it'll soften the blow for the shit show that will be years 2-4, the section I'm sorry to admit that Elijah took charge of. Across the room, one of Hendrix lackies, Jack something, is sat emersed in conversation.

"Jack!" I shout. His head swivels and he smiles once he notices me. "Where's Hendrix?"

He laughs at me, turning his body so that he's perched on his knees, supported by the back rest, all so he can completely face me. "Why," he asks through a cheeky grin. "What's he done now?"

I shake my head, my lips sneaking into a smirk before I can supress it. "Nothing this time. I need to talk to him about childcare." I explain.

"I can text him if you want?" He offers, but I shake my head, kindly rejecting his offer.

"I can actually do that myself," I mumble under my breath, loud enough for only my ears.

Mike Tyson: Where are you? Have you finished your section of the essay?

The message sends and I place my laptop on the table in front, curling my legs up so I can rest my chin on my knees. I stay on my phone, anticipating a reply.

"Behind you."

I swear it, I fly.

My whole body jolts, throwing my phone into the air and propelling me off of the chair, sending me into a heap on the floor, not before I bang my arm and head on the table edge with a more than an audible thud. If that's not embarrassing enough, hearing Hendrix's obnoxious laughter and noticing it drawing even more attention to my tangled frame on the floor, I flush completely, sure that my cheeks are so warm they're steaming. Of course, so are my ears, so I'm quick to jump up and like a lunatic, dive over the chairs and tackle Hendrix to the ground.

"You," thud, "fucking," punch, "idiot," claw. Following an elbow to the face, we wrestle for a couple of minutes on the floor, pulling twice the crowd. Hendrix doesn't hold back on getting a good couple of hits in, digging into my ribs and tit punching me twice. I notice the grin never leaves his face though, especially not when he manages to roll over so that I'm pinned beneath him, my arms above my head trapped with both of his, him straddling my waist, legs restrained by his that are heavy on top.

"I win." He mumbles, his face inches from mine. I do what I can imagine to be the only dignified move in this situation. I lick him right across the face.

"What the hell..." At the sound of Alena's confusion, Hendrix scrambles off of me and we both clamber to our feet, pushing each other back down occasionally to get headway. When I'm stood, chest heaving, bright red, hair astray, with my saliva all over Hendrix cheek and mouth, I realise how bad this looks.

"Hey Lena." I say, pushing my hair back out of my face, working desperately to regulate my breathing. She raises her brows at me, a look of pure bewilderment, waiting for an explanation. "We were wrestling." I try to assure her. I'm sure that I see the corner of her mouth twitch with the ghosts of a smirk.

"Yeah wrestling." She drawls. I nod emphatically, punching Elijah once more in the shoulder for good measure. "Well, when you've finished wrestling, it'd serve you well to remember that this is an educational institution and such acts of fondling are not permitted." She lectures.

"There was no fondling," Hendrix is quick to admit, stealing the words straight from me.

"I counted two tit punches." Alena tells him. I wince at the soreness of my left breast.

"Believe me, that's not fondling." I mutter, my hand taking slowly to cover it in consolation. She rolls her eyes at the pair of us and continues to sit down. Hendrix then turns to me and coughs awkwardly. "Right, yes. The essay, are you done?" I ask him. He nods, handing me a USB stick.

The pair of us sit beside Alena who is already typing away on her own laptop and I download Hendrix's work to mine. After fiddling with the files and copying it all on to one document, I read it thoroughly and must admit, I'm pleasantly surprised. "This is... actually really good." I eventually confess, briefly scrolling through the reference list.

"Ye of little faith." He muses, shooting me a self-righteous grin. I mutter about him being an idiot, scrolling back to the top of our essay. "I've actually been a very busy boy, and I've taken the liberty of creating an itinerary for the next six weeks." He tells me, pulling a stack of folded papers from his bag, stapled poorly in one corner. He hands it to me, and I notice the title 'Baby Project' in bold font at the top.

His planning also piques Lena's interest and her attention strays from that of her laptop until she's peering over my shoulder, watching me flip through the makeshift booklet. "You've assigned days?" I ask him as I'm quick to notice the colour coded boxes, each with a small number of abbreviations in them.

"Seemed the logical idea." He says smoothly, kicking his feet up to rest them on the table.

"What does B.O mean?" Lena asks from beside me, pointing to a box coloured yellow, four weeks on Saturday with 'H' in brackets.

"It means body odour," I respond calmly, "and I've told you Lena, there are nicer ways to point it out to him." To my shock, I'm ignored, and Hendrix leans forward slightly, looking to where Lena is pointing.

"It means booked off. I've book those two days off. It means I'm not accessible at all, any hour, for the full day." He explains.

I grimace and turn to him. "You can't just book off. If this was a real baby, you wouldn't just book a day off and expect someone else to solve your problems."

He turns to me with an obnoxious grin. "No, I'd call a babysitter. That's where you come in." I scowl at him but turn to the itinerary to inspect it further. "Besides, stop complaining. You can book two days off too." He sighs as of the offer pains him. Except I'm not quite listening, not when Lena points out that he's booked off Halloween weekend.

"Fine, I want these days." I tell him. Absolutely no way I'm missing Halloween. Not till hell freezes over.

"But they're my days." He replies hastily, sitting up straighter.

"Tough, I revoke your days off as sole carer of the child. These are my days off now." I retort.

"By law of booking days off, I got there first so, no, they aren't."

"Of course you got there first; you made the stupid thing."

"This is not stupid. It took me hours!"

"It took you hours? It's the standard of a three year old!"

"You two!" We both stop arguing and turn to look at Lena, our faces twitching in anger. "I'm sure you can ask someone to look after the baby for a little while so you can both have those days off." I raise a brow in her direction, quick to notice Elijah doing the same. Alena's eyes widen as she holds up her hands. "Not me."

I groan in defeat, tossing the itinerary on to the table. "Suppose I could ask Ezra." I finally concede. Satisfied, Hendrix nods. "But I still have two free days."

He rolls his eyes and shoots me a look that suggests I'm out of my mind. "You're a terrible mother."

"You'll be a dead father if you don't button it." I seethe, sending an elbow into his ribs. He sticks his tongue out at me immaturely and I turn to grab my laptop only to see it on Alena's knee. She's got an expression wide with disbelief as her eyes skim over our essay.

"This is really good you guys," she says as she reaches the conclusion.

"Thanks." Both Hendrix and I say in unison, quickly shooting each other a glare afterwards.

Lena turns to face us and smiles sweetly. "Seems the two of you really do bring out the best in one another." She says with glee.

My face falls dead pan as I snatch the laptop from her hands. "I'd rather shit in my hands and clap."

~

With last period flying by, I find myself on my way to detention, thankfully, for the final time. Elijah is already here so I take a seat at the very opposite side of the room, casting a fleeting glance over to the clock and hoping that time moves quickly.

After sitting down and stretching my legs to the chair opposite, my comfortable silence is interrupted by an annoying voice. "Shall we play a game?" Hendrix suggests.

"We're playing one." I say through a half open eye. His face is twisted into an expression of confusion. "The quiet game." I answer unprompted. He huffs and continues.

"How about we ask each other questions?" He suggests. With a groan, I drop my feet and open my eyes.

"Must we, must we really?" I drawl.

He grumbles and kicks back, laying his feet on the table. "Excuse me for wanting to get to know the mother of my child." He snaps haughtily. I groan in apprehension but concede.

"Fine," I begin, "we'll play. Me first." He looks at me expectantly. "Why are you so annoying?" I ask with a smug grin.

"It's a side effect of me having an abnormally high IQ." He retorts smoothly, earning a scoff in return. "What are you dressing up as for Halloween?" He asks me.

"Why?" I say, narrowing my eyes.

"I have a few suggestions that I think Nat would look exceptional in."

"You are aware she's a lesbian." I say, though I raise my voice by an octave, offering it as a question. His face falls and he grunts.

"The best one's always are." He says through a sigh. "Alright, my turn."

I sit up straight, frowning slightly. "No, mine." I argue with conviction.

He shakes his head with a cocky grin, a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he expected such a response. "You answered my question with a question. Official rules state that nullifies your turn." I open my mouth to fight back but end up only grumbling a string of profanities, deciding this is a battle I'm really not concerned with winning. "Is Seb your boyfriend?"

I chortle at the mere idea, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. Seb and I are certainly not, and will never, be dating. I'm really not interest in dating anyone right now." I tell him quickly, ignoring the burn in my throat that comes at the idea, Adam at the forefront of my mind.

"Why?" He asks.

I take this as my queue to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic. "Ah, ah. My turn." I say. He, much likes me, looks prepared to argue, but lets it slide. I ponder for a moment, thinking over what I actually care to know about Elijah. "Why are you taking childcare? I never really pegged you for it." I say.

His face hardens and I see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Just when I think he's going to answer, his entire demeanour changes. He hunches, drops his legs, and even slightly turns himself away. "Game over." He says. Slightly taken aback, I frown and decide to meet his request, laying my head on the desk and feeling oddly uncomfortable with the hour long silence that follows.

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