Baby Love ── RICKY BOWEN¹

fifteen. is it too much to ask

"You have such bad timing," I mumble to the baby, and he continues to scream. Thankfully, Big Red's parents aren't that big on noise, or else Rico would be my ticket out of this place. I rock him back and forth, sighing as his crying began to settle down. My eyes traveled to outside where the sky was turning dark, maybe Rico's mechanism thingy will power him down for the night. My hope is destroyed as he lets out a giggle, a signal he isn't anywhere near sleep. "I hate you."

"Harsh." I whirl around, surprised to see Ricky behind me. His eyebrows are raised, amused smile gracing his lips. "That's no way to talk to our son."

I roll my eyes. "Oh shut up, you told him about our divorce already, he's probably traumatized."

Ricky chuckles while I place Rico on the countertop. I lean against the granite top beside him, turning to Ricky with an expectant look. His smile widens, and he gestures to the door he just came out of leading to the basement. "So, we came up with a plan."

My eyebrows raise. "Already?"

He nods. "We're gonna attend the meeting, and then we've got this song and dance idea. True musical style, breaking into sing and dance in the middle of something random. I have a good feeling about it." Then he does the face. The one where he's about to ask me a question I'm most likely going to say no to if he doesn't do the face. To go a step further, Ricky takes my hands, gripping both of them tightly. "Will you join us?"

I scoff. "You're kidding." He doesn't crack. "Ricky, I don't know if you know me as well as you say you do, because then you'd know I don't sing nor dance."

"Mars, please," he pleads. "You're a big part of this musical, and not to mention you've got a reputation at school. Principal Gutierrez is sure to pay attention to us if we have Miss Shortlisted Valedictorian with us."

I hate it when he's right.

But I really don't want to be singing and dancing, it isn't my thing. I'm a behind the scenes person, I'm there to tell Carlos if his script changes are out of character or not. 

But Ricky is doing his pouty eye thing.

And I hate to admit it, but I really care about this drama department.

I let out a sigh of defeat, and instantly, Ricky is perking up. "Fine," I mumble, and his smile grows into a grin. "Just...go easy on me. I'm not a singer, nor a dancer."

He nods quickly. "Of course, I'll be there with you every step of the way." He gives my hand a squeeze as if to solidify his promise. Then he squeezes again, this time not loosening it. "Your hands are freezing, Mars."

I flush. "Yeah, the basement is really cold, and I didn't really bring a jacket or anything because my mom is out of town so she couldn't force me."

Ricky chuckles. "Of course you didn't." Then he drops my hands, and I'm thinking I need to grab Rico so we can go downstairs and inform everybody that I was coerced into joining their stunt. But Ricky just takes a step away from me and begins to pull his sweatshirt over his head. I watch with wide eyes as he yanks the thing over his head, leaving him in his t-shirt. Then, as casually as ever, he extends the item of clothing out to me. "Here."

I stare at it in shock. "This is your hoodie." He nods. "You're giving me...your hoodie?"

Ricky's brows furrow. "You said you were cold?"

I blink rapidly. "So you're giving me your hoodie?"

"Yeah..."

"Okay, why?"

Ricky seems to have grown frustrated with my questions because he steps forward and just shoves my head through the head hole. Then he takes both my arms and slides them in until his hoodie hangs off my body. He smiles, tapping a single finger on my nose gently. "Adorable," he compliments mockingly.