I Unlove You (23 page)

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Authors: Matthew Turner

Tags: #coming of age, #love story, #literary fiction, #contemporary romance, #new adult, #mature young adult

BOOK: I Unlove You
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Yeah,

I sigh.


Sorry. Sorry. I

m being a shit
friend.

He takes a deep breath.

Just feeling sorry for
myself. Come on, tell me about you and the baby and all that
crap.


We

re
fine.


Bullshit.

He snorts, clearing his
throat.

You seem to forget I

ve known you longer
than that girl has.


Don

t remind me,

I say, looking up to
the ceiling with various black streaks smudged across it.

I
don

t know

I won

t lie,
it

s been an intense few weeks. To be honest,
I

ve been fucking useless throughout the whole
thing.


Oh, come on.
You

ve
—“


I have. Trust me.
I

ve let her down.


Don

t talk nonsense,
brother. You

re handling this far
better than most guys our age would. Can you imagine
me?


No, but I also
can

t imagine you spending enough time with a girl to get
her pregnant.


That

s certainly the
plan.


You aside, I sense most would
have been better equipped than me.


Stop this nonsensical bullshit.
You

re a good guy, one of the best. And
you

ll be a top dad.
B
knows it. I know it. Deep down, I
sense you know it, too. You just need to get out of your head and
stop worrying about whether you are or aren

t
letting
B
down. I love you like a brother, brother, but your love for
that girl will one day give you a heart attack.

I
laugh, sitting down on the drummer

s
stool.


It

s true. It freaks me
out how you place so much trust in someone, but I suppose you found
one of the good ones. She

s a good girl, but
she isn

t perfect.


I know she
isn

t.


Do you?

He smiles, nudging me
again.

The sad thing is, my dad probably thought
she
was perfect at some point. Goes to show how stupid we can
be, doesn

t it?


Joey
—“


B
is
one of the good ones, though. In fact, she

s so good, she
wouldn

t want you to beat yourself up over utter
nonsense, either.


I know, I
know.


Then stop it.
You

re doing alright. You

re doing
alright.


But
…”


But what?


The next
scan

s coming up.


So? Does it matter if
it

s a boy or girl?


It isn

t
that.

I push off with my feet and spin in the stool.

What if I
panic like last time? What if I just sit there again,
useless?


You won

t.


What if I
do?


You won

t.

He stops my spinning
with his knee.

You

ll be fine. You

ll hold her hand and
kiss her. You

ll write her a
letter because you

re a complete and
utter sap. You

ll be daddy-cool,
because behind me, you

re the coolest guy
in town.

I
laugh under my breath and rub my hands down my faded red
chinos.

Maybe.


No maybe, brother.
You

ve got this. You

ll step up like you
did on stage. King of the bass. The bass-man. Lord bass of bass
town.


Well, if
fatherhood

s as easy as playing
guitar, I should have it covered.

He
nods, looking above and beyond me.

It was an amazing gig,
wasn

t it?


Yeah.


The crowd, the noise, the
weather, and the way everyone danced like they
didn

t give a shit. The microphone was part of me. I could
touch and taste the sound

s vibrations, and
the damn-good-vibes flowing through the air.

He sighs.

I miss it
already.

Swivelling on the stool again, I
stare at my beaten brown Derby shoes.


It

s good that
it

s getting easier,

he says.

And you know I said
you

re one of the best guys I know? I lied.
You

re the best by a distance. Seriously, I
don

t think you appreciate how brave you are. So many guys
would run a mile. I would, and I hate myself for that, because
that

s what she did. She ran. She left. I
don

t like to think I

m like her,
but
…”


You

re not, Joe. I think
you

d surprise yourself, because if what I am right now is
brave, you

re more than cut out
for it.

He
smiles that barely visible smile and places his left hand on my
shoulder.

Maybe. Better not impregnate anyone just in case,
huh?


That

s probably a
good idea.

He
laughs and dashes to the other side of the band room.

Jesus, can
you imagine what my child would be like?


I

d rather not, if
it

s
okay.


I

d definitely
procreate a better son than you.


Shut up.


You know it

s
true.


Shut up.

He
laughs louder, picking up his guitar and holding it above his
head.

I suppose I

ll have to give in
one day, won

t I? It

s why
we

re here in the first place, to learn and pass on our
awesomeness. How could I possibly neglect the future of our human
race its finest specimen yet?


I have no
words.


A little boy with my good
looks, wit, charm, and overall demeanour

combined with
Harriet

s incredible figure, hair, and
intellect
…”
He thrusts the guitar into my arms.

Are you kidding me?
That kid will rule the world.


Or destroy
it,

I
say.

Smirk and all, he places his arms behind his neck.

One day,
brother. If I fail to rule the world, he will. I

ll make
sure of it.

AUGUST 18
TH
- A BUSY BABY SHOP:

 

As
I survey the near-endless row of baby cots, I imagine The Shawshank
Redemption and Morgan Freeman

s husky voice.
Watching an entire movie is an arduous task, but when it features
Morgan Freeman, as so many do, it

s less torturous. I
often imagine Morgan narrating the books I read, his voice an
improvement over my own.


What are you
thinking?

B
asks, approaching
from behind and interlocking our arms.

You look deep in
thought.


The Shawshank
Redemption,

I say, looking at a lime green cot.


Come again?


They

re like mini
prison cells, aren

t
they?

I say, pointing to the beige cot in front.

Row after
row of little baby cells, ready to house little baby
fugitives.


I see,

she says, stepping
towards them and running her hand along a wooden railing.

When you
look at my baby

s future bed, you
think about prison?

Spinning on the spot, she leans back and
smiles.

Is that what you

re
saying?

I
laugh, stepping in and wrapping my arms around her waist.

A little,
yes.


You are
useless.

She laughs and places her head into my chest, me resting my
chin on her and inhaling her hair

s fresh aroma of
coconut shampoo and peach conditioner.


Don

t you think
it

s odd how they make them like this?

I say, peering over
her shoulder.

Imagine you

re a baby for a
second. One moment, you

re rocked to sleep
in your mother

s arms, the next you
wake up at the bottom of a bottomless pit.

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