Page 64 of The Long Way Home

She looked at me cautiously. “What do you want your life to look like?”

I shrugged, indifferent. “I just want one with you.”

“I’m not getting an abortion,” she told me, resolute.

I grinned down at her.

“I was hoping you’d say that!” I reached into my backpack and pulled out a Dolce & Gabbana bag. “Did you know they did baby clothes?” Pulled out a tiny rose print dress. “And look at these!” I pulled out a pair of baby Timberlands.

She smiled over at me reluctantly.

“Beej.” She put her hand on top of mine. “This is a big deal…”

“Not really, Parks.” I shrugged. “Because we’re sorted. By the time we’re twenty-one, between us we’ll have a bit over a billion dollars in liquid assets.” She rolled her eyes but I kept going. “I’m pretty sure most people live on less than that all their lives. I can work for my dad — he’ll be stoked — we’ll always have money, it’ll be fine.”

She said nothing. Instead she looked at me with a suspicious hopefulness.

“What are you smiling at?” She shook her head. “We’re fucked.”

I sniffed a laugh.

“Yeah, but that’s kind of what I want — to be fucked. By you, with you, over you—” I shrugged. “Forever.”

Got that wish, didn’t I?

“Beej, that’s a very romantic thing to say, but you’re not really thinking about the…” She shrugged. “…I don’t know? Details?”

“And neither should you! That’s not the important part!”

“It’s definitely the important part—”

“No.” I shook my head as I poked her stomach and grinned at her. “That’s the important part.”

And then she was lost to it.

“We’ll make a plan tonight,” I told her as I draped my arms around her. Clocked the flowchart properly for the first time. “Woah, this is detailed.” I glanced down at her. “Where do I fit in this plan?”

“Oh. You don’t.” She grimaced. “I thought we broke up.”

“You thought wrong.”