Chapter Twenty - The Baby Blues
"Devon Jones, I am going to say this for the last time, my name is not Simba and I would very much appreciate it if you put me down. As in...feet on floor." I said loudly as Devon held me tightly around my waist, holding me up in the air while singing 'The Circle of Life' from The Lion King so incredibly out of tune that I thought the simulator was going to start crying. My feet dangled at least half a metre from the ground as Devon stuttered slightly while serenading me with a not so great chorus from a great Disney movie. I peered down at him from my great height, an eyebrow raised, clutching baby George to my chest. Devon begrudgingly put me back down on the floor, so I could walk home properly. I gave him a look. "I am only saying you should put me down because of the baby. I don't want it to start screaming here. We're not even home."
"Spoil sport. I was getting to the good bit of the song and everything." He muttered, obviously fed up with me and my baby blues. "It was going to be, like, the chorus with so much power behind it that everyone stars to bend down before us, and-"
"I'm sorry that I literally do not want to grab the attention of every single living organism in this street," I said, giving Devon a firm look, "Besides, what would happen if you had dropped me?"
"But the thing is that I wouldn't have dropped you. You doubt me too much." Devon said, a sulky look taking over his features. He adjusted the strap of his extremely manly rucksack, before allowing his expression to go back to normal once more. "So...what does our kid actually look like?" Our.
"I have no idea. I haven't looked at it, I'm too nervous." I explained.
"Well, I guess we'll have to face the truth sooner or later." Devon said, stopping his walking and clasping his hands together, almost as if he was bracing himself for the worst. My heart did a weird little jump at the way he said we. I shook my head slightly and concentrated on the important matter - the fake baby. Devon sidled even closer to me and gave me an expectant look. With a sigh, I lifted the bundle of cloth and opened it. Both Devon and I inhaled sharply and gave each other a look. "Well," Devon said, "It definitely-"
"Do not say that it got it looks from me." I snapped. Devon put a hand to his heart in mock hurt.
"What impulse made you think I would say such a thing?" Devon said as he looked back at the baby simulator in my arms. Its eyes were an off sort of green, like puke, its hair so blonde it looked yellow, which went seriously well with its phlegm coloured skin. This was the baby to turn all of the other babies into stone; even its blankets were ugly. And do not get me started on the backpack. "But George does have your-" Before Devon could say another word, I had smacked him with the simulator-demon-baby across the arm, but then suddenly regretted it. We all knew what would happen if we didn't take proper care of the baby from the depths of the Underworld. Devon and I both remained frozen, not breathing, looking at each other. Fear - and I promise I am not being melodramatic - was actually evident in Devon's eyes.
Silence.
Devon took a deep breath, exhaling over a long period, "I think, Holland, my yellow-tipped friend, we have gotten somehow and unbelievably lucky with-"
Screaming!
A piercing shriek that put the local cat to shame; I was quite positive that it would have made dogs howl and bats fly off course. Also, I was seriously surprised that our eardrums hadn't burst and that we weren't lying on the floor in a pool of our own ear-blood. I looked sideways at Devon, my hands thrust outwards, trying to minimize the amount of sound we had to hear. Devon had his hands clamped over his ears and he wore a grimace, his glasses yet again at a funny angle.
YOU ARE READING
Operation Marriage
Teen Fiction"Holland Clarke, supreme loser, will you marry me?" "Yes, ultimate jerkface, I guess I have no choice." Holland Clarke is your average, unnoticed girl. She likes it like that, is happy like and wants to keep it like that. But it's impossible for her...