Page 115
He and Anthea exchanged a glance.
“Go ahead,” Anthea said. “I’ll call you if I’m crowning.”
Doug rolled his eyes and left the room.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Her laugh was a little embarrassed. “I told him if he stinks up the room while I’m giving birth, I’ll make him change every diaper from now until she’s potty trained. The baby and I are the only ones allowed to shit in this room.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
She shifted, then adjusted her gown and reached for the remote. “Want to watch something?”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
She winced and began taking deep breaths. A line on one of the monitors spiked, and I leaned forward, worried. “Are you okay?”
“Contraction,” she gritted out, squeezing the railings until her knuckles turned white. “If that damn anesthesiologist doesn’t get here soon...”
“I can ask the nurses?” I offered.
She shook her head. “Doug’s already asked three times. He’s on his way—allegedly.” Her body visibly relaxed, and the line on the monitor went down. “Maybe we can watch the news. Seeing someone else in a worse situation might make these contractions not as bad.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said, watching as she flipped the channels on the TV. When she landed on the news station, my mouth fell open.
“What?” she asked.
I pointed at the screen. “That’s Emerson Academy.”
66
Birdie
Confession: I always think I deserve less than I do.
The image on the screen depicted the Emerson Academy courtyard flooded with students and parents holding signs in protest.
“What’s going on?” Anthea asked.
“Turn it up!” I said.
The screen cut to a newscaster holding a microphone in Ollie’s face. Instead of his uniform, he wore a bright pink shirt with a bird on the front. Behind him, there were signs with words like.
BRING BACK BIRDIE
JUST SAY “YES” TO BIRDIE
TEACHERS DESERVE GOOD S3X TOO
My mouth fell open at the words, but nothing shocked me as much as the interview.
“I’m here with Ollie Bardot, Emerson Academy student and the organizer of this protest. More than a thousand people have gathered around the school, demanding a job for the guidance counselor who was fired for fraternizing with this student’s father.”
“No freaking way,” Anthea whispered. “That’s all for you?”
On the screen, Ollie said, “Emerson Academy has been around since the 1800s, and some of its rules are just as old.”
The newscaster brought the microphone back to herself. “You’re referring to a rule that forbids staff from dating parents.”
“Go ahead,” Anthea said. “I’ll call you if I’m crowning.”
Doug rolled his eyes and left the room.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Her laugh was a little embarrassed. “I told him if he stinks up the room while I’m giving birth, I’ll make him change every diaper from now until she’s potty trained. The baby and I are the only ones allowed to shit in this room.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
She shifted, then adjusted her gown and reached for the remote. “Want to watch something?”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
She winced and began taking deep breaths. A line on one of the monitors spiked, and I leaned forward, worried. “Are you okay?”
“Contraction,” she gritted out, squeezing the railings until her knuckles turned white. “If that damn anesthesiologist doesn’t get here soon...”
“I can ask the nurses?” I offered.
She shook her head. “Doug’s already asked three times. He’s on his way—allegedly.” Her body visibly relaxed, and the line on the monitor went down. “Maybe we can watch the news. Seeing someone else in a worse situation might make these contractions not as bad.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said, watching as she flipped the channels on the TV. When she landed on the news station, my mouth fell open.
“What?” she asked.
I pointed at the screen. “That’s Emerson Academy.”
66
Birdie
Confession: I always think I deserve less than I do.
The image on the screen depicted the Emerson Academy courtyard flooded with students and parents holding signs in protest.
“What’s going on?” Anthea asked.
“Turn it up!” I said.
The screen cut to a newscaster holding a microphone in Ollie’s face. Instead of his uniform, he wore a bright pink shirt with a bird on the front. Behind him, there were signs with words like.
BRING BACK BIRDIE
JUST SAY “YES” TO BIRDIE
TEACHERS DESERVE GOOD S3X TOO
My mouth fell open at the words, but nothing shocked me as much as the interview.
“I’m here with Ollie Bardot, Emerson Academy student and the organizer of this protest. More than a thousand people have gathered around the school, demanding a job for the guidance counselor who was fired for fraternizing with this student’s father.”
“No freaking way,” Anthea whispered. “That’s all for you?”
On the screen, Ollie said, “Emerson Academy has been around since the 1800s, and some of its rules are just as old.”
The newscaster brought the microphone back to herself. “You’re referring to a rule that forbids staff from dating parents.”
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