But Who's Counting?

Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Bash your skull in."

This is ass. Vote and comment.

"So I don't get a welcome party, nothing?" Quincy asks as he throws his suitcase into the car. A wide smile is plastered across her face as he closes the door and comes to sit in the passenger seat.

"Nope. Sorry." I smile, waiting for him to buckle the seatbelt. He finally looks up at me as he finishes before sputtering. "Huge. Huge. You look like Aunt Ke when she was pregnant with Chloe and Chris." He says, adjusting his black nike hat.

"I know." I groan, starting the car and beginning to drive away from the airport pick up lot.

"Dad is going to kill you, only if he doesn't kill the baby daddy first. Speaking of baby daddy, will I get to meet him?"

I mean, we are going back to his house.

"Maybe." I tease as he flips out his phone. I glance over at him. His curly hair is tucked beneath the hat and he's wearing a black hoodie with his adidas sweatpants. I don't bother looking at his shoes because I know they are probably slides.

"Why didn't you bring your fiancée?"

"Eh. She didn't want to come." He mumbles, sounding as if he doesn't want to talk about it.

Too bad.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Something's going on with her." He says, looking up at me. I glance at him again before looking back at the road.

"Is she getting cold feet?"

"She better not be; she's the one who proposed."

"Really?"

"I mean.. it wasn't really a proposal. I fucked her and she said 'let's get married'."

"So you being as impulsive as you are, you decided that was a good idea?"

"I mean, we have been seeing each other for a minute now. Aren't you supposed to take this street back to the apartment?"

"Yeah."

"So where are we going? Strip club?" He eagerly asks. Typically Quincy.

"I'm pregnant."

"That doesn't mean you can't enjoy a lap dance." He says, almost as if it was obvious. I can see out of the corner of my eye as he rolls down the windows and quickly spits.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I barely have a lap."

"Oh I've noticed, fatass." He retorts, snickering as he rolls his eyes.

"Ugly." I mumble.

"Crackhead." He says back, not even bothering to look this way.

"Troll." I say, louder this time as I turn the corner.

"Demon child."

"We have the same parents. That would make you one as well." I say. Instead of responding though, me mocks me and sticks out his tongue.

"I've missed you. You know that? I can't believe I'm going to be a Uncle. I'm going to be their favorite uncle."

"I don't know, Alex has got 3 brother and a cousin that's basically a brother. You got four other uncles to compete with."

"Trust me, Uncle Quincy is where it's at. I'm going to tell you to put them out on the crib, inside their car seats and I'm gonna pull up, toss them in and we'll go to the movies or something. Then we'll go to the candy store and they can get whatever they want and when they get high off of all that sugar, I'm going to return them home so they can terrorize you."