#v:lake featherstorm

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    “Really? You’re really pregnant? Well, I mean, how do you feel about it? A’ you excited? A’ you afraid? What’s goin’ through y’head right now…? I mean, I’m excited f’ ya, but I wish I was close’ t’ya so I could… yeah. Oh, don’t cry, Camille. Ev’rything’s gonna be okay, y’know it will. I can fly down in th’ summe’ if y’need me to… yeah, I’d do that if you wanted me to.”

    “Non, cher... mama ain’ finna let me ‘roun nobody, ‘Specially ‘roun no man,” she sniffled, pausing the teary song of her voice, “I cain’ h-help it! I cain’ be no mama, Stephen..! Ma st-stupid ass ain’  e’em finish school, how I’ma brang a baby!”

    Truthfully, her tears held more weight behind them than this. Somehow Camille felt that he would be disappointed in her at this news. Christ knew it devastated her. And wounded in her in particular to tell him. She hadn’t even told the father.

    “Ion’ wan’ no beb by dat damn foo’,” she spat out, wiping messily at her cheeks, “I ain’ e’em wan’ to..!”