Sky's POV
The hall outside Section A was too quiet. Like, the kind of quiet that makes your brain itch.
And of course, that's when Skiez showed up, leaning against the lockers like he owned the whole building. Hands shoved in his pockets, eyes sharp. Classic "I'm cooler than you" posture.
"Well, well, frog-voice," he drawled. "Why do you look like you just committed a felony? Did you kill the vending machine again?"
I tightened my grip on my chips. "I didn't kill it, I just… borrowed food without asking."
He tilted his head. "You're hiding something. I can tell."
My jaw worked. My heart was slamming against my ribs like it wanted to file for divorce. I wanted to shut up. To walk away. To not let my stupid mouth betray me.
But nope.
It betrayed me anyway.
"BB's pregnant!" I blurted.
…
…
The words just hung there in the air between us, like neon letters flashing YOU IDIOT, SKY.
Skiez's smirk evaporated. He blinked once, twice, then straightened off the locker. "What… did you just say?"
"Uh—I said—BB's PRESENT! Yeah, like… she's very present! In spirit!" My laugh came out shrill and awful, like a hyena choking on soda.
Skiez didn't even blink. He stepped closer, eyes burning like knives. "Don't lie to me."
I swallowed so hard I nearly choked on chip dust. My legs felt like soggy noodles.
Oh crap. Ohhhhhh crap.
This wasn't the loud Skiez who teased me in class. This was the quiet, dangerous Skiez. The one who could break you with just a look.
And my dumb mouth had just given him dynamite.
Skiez's eyes narrowed, sharp as daggers. He crossed his arms, stepping closer until I had to tilt my head back to look at him.
"Well?" he asked, voice low. "Who's the dad?"
I froze, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. "Uhh… I don't know. She didn't tell me."
The silence was so heavy I swear I could hear the dust motes falling.
Then—BOOM.
Skiez exploded. "You've got to be kidding me, frog-brain. Now I feel like smashing my own head into this locker! How the hell do you not know? It's your responsibility to ask! You're the first person who knew BB is pregnant!"
My mouth dropped open. I clutched my chips dramatically against my chest like they were my emotional-support children. "Excuse me?? How is that MY responsibility?? And wait—how can I be the first one to know BB is pregnant? Obviously BB was the first one to know it! What do you want me to do, crawl inside her brain and read her diary??"
Skiez dragged a hand down his face, groaning like the world's most exhausted mafia boss. "Sky. Think. This isn't a joke."
I pointed at him. "And YOU think yelling at me will magically summon the father like—poof! Here I am, guys, thanks for shouting!?"
His jaw tightened, eyes flashing. "You're impossible."
I grinned, despite my pounding heart. "And yet… you're still here talking to me. Coincidence? I think not."
________________________________________
Night sky pov
"Okay, let me just say this: I never agreed to play Sherlock Holmes: Teenage Pregnancy Edition." I whispered, crouched behind a bush that was stabbing my butt.
Skiez, crouched right beside me, didn't even blink. His eyes were locked on BB walking down the street, hoodie up, glancing around like she was in some mafia movie.
"You didn't have to agree," he muttered. "You just had to stop running your mouth and follow me."
I squinted at him. "Wow. Romantic. Drag me into a stalker mission without snacks. Do you know how much I sacrificed leaving my bed for this?!"
"Sky." His voice was sharp, warning.
"Fine, fine," I hissed back, waving my hand. "But if we get caught hiding in a bush at midnight, I'm telling the cops you forced me. Also, I'll cry dramatically. Don't test me."
BB stopped at an intersection, checked her phone, then slipped into a dark alley. My eyes widened. "Oh no, nope, nope. I've seen horror movies. You know who goes into dark alleys at midnight? Victims, Skiez. VICTIMS."
He stood up smoothly, already following. "And we're following her."
"Correction," I said, scrambling after him. "You're following her. I'm following you because I don't want to die alone."
We crept down the alley, the sound of BB's footsteps echoing ahead. She paused, talking to someone in hushed tones. From the shadows, I couldn't see who.
My brain immediately went into overdrive.
Is it the father? A dealer? A vampire? Oh my god, what if BB is selling her soul?
I leaned too far forward trying to peek and—BAM—tripped over a trash can. It clattered like a death gong in the silence.
BB's head snapped up. "Who's there?!"
Panic. Pure panic. I grabbed the first thing I saw—Skiez's arm—and whispered, "Quick, act like a couple making out!"
His head whipped toward me, deadpan. "…What."
"YES, because nobody suspects couples making out in alleys! It's genius!"
Before he could argue, BB's footsteps started coming closer. Skiez muttered something that sounded like I hate my life—and the next thing I knew, his hand was gripping my chin, pulling me close.
Our faces were inches apart. My brain short-circuited.
Okay. Not what I meant. But also… hello?? Breathing?? Why did my lungs just forget how??
BB stopped a few feet away, scanning the alley. I swear my heartbeat was louder than her footsteps.
After a tense few seconds, she huffed and turned away, disappearing back down the street.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and shoved Skiez away, face burning. "That—that was NOT what I meant! I meant fake! Like—like Hollywood-level fake! Not… not whatever THAT was!"
He didn't even flinch. Just adjusted his shirt and muttered, "You're welcome."
"WELCOME?! You nearly fried my soul!" I whisper-yelled, stomping after him.
But deep inside, I couldn't stop the thought spinning in my head:
What if she hadn't walked away? What if he actually—
Nope. Not going there. Not today.
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Midnight – Sky's POV
"Note to self," I whispered, tiptoeing after BB again, "next time, bring pepper spray. Or garlic. Or both. Because this alley literally screams crime scene."
Skiez didn't answer—of course. He was all serious mode, stalking behind BB like some tall, broody shadow. Meanwhile, I was the idiot narrator whispering commentary in my head.
BB slowed down, pulling her hood tighter as she turned into an abandoned parking lot. A single broken lamp flickered above. My stomach twisted. Why does this look like a mafia deal?
She stopped—and someone stepped out of the shadows.
A guy. Older. At least college-age. He had a cigarette in one hand and that sketchy "I shouldn't be trusted around minors" aura written all over him.
"Oh no," I muttered, pressing closer to Skiez. "Tell me she's not… tell me he's not…"
"Shh," he hissed, eyes narrowing.
We crouched behind a rusted car, peeking over the hood.
BB's voice trembled. "You promised you'd… you'd help me."
The guy flicked his cigarette, smirking. "Relax. I said I'd take care of it. But you keep crying like this and someone's gonna notice."
My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Oh my god. This is it. This creep is the dad.
I looked at Skiez, whispering frantically, "THIS IS IT! We found the deadbeat dad! Ohhh, I knew it, BB has trash taste in men. He looks like he sells expired cologne at bus stations!"
"Quiet!" Skiez snapped, but his fists were clenched. His whole body was radiating anger.
BB's shoulders shook as she whispered, "I… I can't do this alone…"
For a second, the guy's smirk faltered. His tone softened. "You won't have to. I told you I've got it under control. Just don't tell anyone, alright?"
BB nodded weakly, wiping her tears.
And then—he reached forward and touched her cheek.
Skiez shot up instantly. I grabbed his arm, panicked. "WHOA WHOA WHOA, Batman, calm down! We can't just leap out like wannabe Avengers!"
But he was furious. His voice was low, tight. "That guy's using her."
BB suddenly turned, sensing something, and her eyes locked straight on us.
My whole body froze.
"Oh crap."
The guy spun around, his sharp gaze falling right where we crouched. "Who's there?!"
In pure panic mode, I did the only logical thing: grabbed Skiez's shirt and yelled, "RUN!!!"
We bolted out from behind the car, BB gasping in shock, the guy shouting curses as he chased a few steps before stopping.
My lungs were burning, my legs jelly, but somehow me and Skiez ended up hiding behind a vending machine down the street, both panting like we just ran a marathon.
I wheezed, clutching my knees. "W-well… we found him. The… the mystery creep. Case closed. Can I go home now?"
Skiez didn't answer. He just slammed his fist into the vending machine, his jaw clenched tight. "That bastard."
The fire in his eyes startled me. He looked ready to tear the world apart.
For once, I didn't joke. I just stood there, silent, the weight of what we saw crashing down on me.
Because suddenly this wasn't just gossip.
It wasn't just BB being dramatic.
This was real.
And we were in the middle of it.
Ooooh 👀 nice twist! Let's make this super dramatic—instead of just shady random guy, you'll get the reveal that BB's been secretly meeting Nav (from Section A). This way, the plot ties back to their classmates and raises even bigger questions.
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Later That Night – Sky's POV
My legs were killing me. Following BB until midnight was NOT in my school contract.
Skiez and I crouched again, hidden behind a half-dead tree. (Yes, a TREE. I am a proud snack-hoarder, not a trained spy. My thighs are not built for this life.)
BB walked nervously down the empty street, clutching her bag. My stomach flipped. Please don't let it be Creepy McCigarette again. I can't survive another episode of Criminal Minds: High School Edition.
Then—someone stepped out from the shadows.
My eyes widened.
Skiez actually froze.
Because it wasn't some random thug.
It was Nav. From Section A.
Yes. Mister "I-always-get-perfect-scores-and-wear-my-tie-properly" Nav.
"What the—" I whispered. "No way. No freaking way."
BB's voice trembled. "Nav… you came."
"I told you I would," he said softly, stepping closer. His usually sharp, confident face was… different. Almost gentle. He reached out like he wanted to take her hand. "You're not alone in this."
My brain short-circuited. NAV?! NAV NAV NAV?! Section A's golden boy? The teachers' favorite?? The dude who once reported me for eating Pringles during class??
I grabbed Skiez's sleeve, whisper-screaming, "OH. MY. GOD. The baby daddy is NAV?!?"
Skiez's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would crack. He didn't answer, but his fists balled so tight his knuckles turned white.
BB was crying again, her shoulders shaking. Nav gently helped her sit on the low wall nearby. "I'll take responsibility," he whispered. "I promise."
For once in my life, I didn't have a joke. I just stared, shocked into silence.
BB leaned into him, sobbing, and Nav hugged her carefully, like he'd been doing this all along.
My head spun. So THIS is the secret. This is why she's been acting so broken. BB, the loudest, most dramatic queen bee in Section A… was hiding this.
And only we knew.
I glanced at Skiez. He looked like he wanted to march right there and drag Nav by the collar. But I shook my head violently, mouthing, "NOT. NOW."
We stayed hidden, the weight of the truth pressing on us.
Because BB wasn't just meeting anyone.
She was meeting Nav.
I thought I'd heard enough drama for one lifetime. But nope. Midnight, hiding behind a tree like some raccoon, I got front row seats to the most soap-opera scene of the century.
BB was sobbing so hard her whole body shook. Nav was crouched in front of her, trying to catch her hands.
"BB… listen to me," Nav's voice was steady, firm, way calmer than I thought a teenage boy could ever be. "I'll take responsibility. For you. For the baby. You're not alone in this."
BB ripped her hands away, clutching her stomach. Her mascara was streaming down her face. "No, no, no—Nav, you don't understand! I can't—I can't do this!" Her voice cracked so painfully it made my own throat tighten. "I'm not ready to be a mom. I can't even take care of myself! How am I supposed to take care of a child?!"
Nav tried again, reaching out carefully. "We'll figure it out. Together. Don't… don't say that. Please, don't cry—"
But she cut him off, almost screaming through her sobs: "I don't want this baby! I can't! I can't go through the pain of childbirth, I can't live my whole life ruined before it even started. I just… I just want it gone."
The words stabbed the night air, sharp and final.
My heart thudded in my chest. Holy crap… she said it. She actually said it.
Nav froze, his lips parting like he didn't know how to breathe. Then he shook his head quickly, desperate. "BB, no. Don't say that. You're scared right now, but—listen, you're strong. I know you. You can do this. You don't have to decide tonight. Just… just don't hurt yourself, okay? Please."
BB curled into herself, hugging her knees, tears falling nonstop. "I'm not strong. I'm nothing without my makeup and my stupid attitude. I'm just… I'm just a girl who doesn't know what to do…"
Nav knelt in front of her, his voice breaking for the first time. "You're everything to me, BB. And if you choose to… to not keep it, I'll still be here. I'll still stand by you. I just don't want you to go through this alone."
She cried harder, burying her face in her arms.
And there I was. Hidden in the shadows, clutching Skiez's sleeve so tight I probably cut off his blood circulation. My sarcastic brain—my comfort zone—was completely gone. I had no jokes. No comebacks. Just a cold, sinking feeling that this wasn't gossip anymore. This was real.
Nav wrapped his arms around her, holding her while she fell apart in his chest.
I swallowed hard, whispering under my breath, "Oh… BB…"
For once, I didn't sound like a frog. I just sounded… scared.
________________________________________
BB's POV
Everything hurts.
Not my body—not really. It's my chest. My heart. My head. Like someone took my whole world, flipped it upside down, and laughed while I tried to crawl back.
I thought I was untouchable. The girl everyone looked at, even if it was to roll their eyes. The one who screamed louder than her insecurities, who stomped on the ground so nobody could hear her knees shaking.
But now?
Now I'm sitting in the dark, clutching my stomach, and I can't breathe. Because inside me—inside me—is something I never asked for. Something that feels like a prison sentence.
"I can't… I can't do this," I whisper again, and my own voice disgusts me. Weak. Cracked. Pathetic. "I'm not ready… I'm not ready to be a mom."
Nav's face is so close. Too close. He looks at me like I'm still the BB he knows—the one who calls people cockroaches and acts like she owns the hallway. He says things like, I'll take responsibility. I'll be here.
But doesn't he get it? Doesn't anyone get it?
I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be "taken care of." I don't want to smile while my life gets ripped away before I even turned eighteen.
"I just want it gone." The words tumble out like acid.
The moment they're spoken, I hate myself for saying them. But it's the truth. The raw, ugly truth.
Tears pour down, hot and endless. My eyeliner is destroyed, my face is blotchy, and for the first time in forever—I don't care.
Nav's arms circle me, pulling me against him. His warmth should comfort me, but it just makes the guilt heavier. He doesn't deserve this. None of us do.
Inside, a war rages. One side screaming, End this. Save yourself. The other whispering, What if you regret it? What if you're killing the only chance to be… more?
But all I can do is shake and sob, because I don't have answers. I never have. I was never strong—I just acted like it.
And now, I can't act anymore.
________________________________________
Nav's POV
I never thought I'd see BB like this.
Not the girl with the sharp eyeliner and sharper tongue, who'd rather bite your head off than admit she was hurting.
No. The girl in front of me isn't BB, not the version everyone at school knows.
This one is fragile. Small. Broken.
Her sobs cut through me, louder than any insult she's ever screamed. She clutches her stomach like it's some curse carved into her body, like she wants to tear it away. And every time she whispers, I can't do this… I want it gone… something inside me twists.
I want to fix it. That's the first instinct. To hold her tighter, to promise the moon, to tell her she won't face this alone.
So I do.
"I'll take responsibility," I say, the words heavy but true. My chest tightens as I say it, because I mean it. I'd stand by her. I'd fight for her. For us. For the life she's carrying.
But she just shakes her head, crying harder, like my words are knives instead of comfort.
"I don't want it, Nav… I don't want to be a mom! I can't—"
Her voice cracks, and I press my forehead to hers. My throat burns with words I don't even know how to say.
How do I tell her she's stronger than she thinks? How do I make her believe she's not alone? How do I make her see that maybe—just maybe—we could make this work?
But then I see it. The raw terror in her eyes. The way her whole body trembles. She's not faking this, not being dramatic, not performing like she always does.
She's drowning.
And the ugly truth punches me in the gut:
No matter how much I want to, I can't save her from this.
I can hold her. I can whisper promises. But I can't take the fear away. I can't make the choice for her.
So I do the only thing I can.
I let her cry. I let her fall apart in my arms, even as my own tears sting the back of my eyes. I stroke her hair and whisper, "Whatever you choose… I'm here. I swear."
And I pray—to anyone, anything—that she believes me.
________________________________________
Skiez's POV
You ever get punched in the gut without anyone touching you?
Yeah. That's what it felt like, watching BB break down like that.
The girl who could scream over the smallest thing, the one who acted like she owned Section A and the rest of us were her backup dancers—suddenly she's this… trembling mess.
And the words she said—pregnant.
God. It still rings in my head like a bomb that won't stop exploding.
Sky's standing beside me, stiff and awkward, like she doesn't know whether to crack a joke or cry too. And me? My brain's doing somersaults.
Part of me wants to laugh out of disbelief. Like, how is this even real? We're in high school, for crying out loud. BB's biggest crisis last week was some guy liking her Instagram post without following back. And now? This.
But the other part of me—the louder part—feels this heavy, sinking weight.
I glance at her. Her makeup's ruined, her shoulders shaking, Nav trying his best to comfort her while looking just as lost. And it hits me hard.
This isn't just gossip. This isn't something we can roll our eyes at in homeroom tomorrow. This is real. This is messy. This could destroy her.
I grit my teeth and mutter to Sky, maybe harsher than I mean to:
"Do you realize what this means? We're the only ones who know right now. You and me. If this blows up in school… she's done."
Sky frowns, hugging her bag tighter. "I didn't ask to be the secret-keeper of BB's"
________________________________________
Sky's POV
Okay. So. Third period was supposed to be about me, my glorious secret snack stash, and some quality alone time with Chocopies.
Instead? Boom. Plot twist.
BB is pregnant.
Like—pregnant-pregnant. Not "I ate three ramen bowls and now look six months along" pregnant. The real deal. And now Nav is here too, acting like some knight in shining armor, whispering, "I'll take responsibility," while BB cries like the world's ending.
And me? I'm standing here holding half a bag of chips wondering when my life turned into a K-drama.
"Yup," I mutter under my breath. "Exactly what I wanted today. Not math homework. Not pop quiz stress. A front-row seat to Teen Mom: Section A edition."
BB sobs harder, clutching her stomach like she's seconds away from collapsing. Nav looks at me like do something, and I just blink back like, What do you expect me to do, buddy? Hand her a pacifier?
I crouch down beside her, gently poking her arm. "Hey, BB. You know I don't do the whole comforting bestie thing, right? But, uh… you want a Chocopie? Limited edition. It cures sadness, heartbreak, and—maybe—surprise pregnancies."
Her tear-smeared face snaps up at me, and for a split second I think she's gonna slap me. Instead, she just sobs louder and—oh wow—throws herself into a hug around me.
Cue awkward robot arms.
Me: stiff as a brick.
Her: bawling into my uniform like I'm some tissue paper.
Great. Now I smell like mascara and tragedy.
I glance at Skiez, who's watching us like he's both stressed and judging me for not hugging back properly. "What?" I hiss. "I'm not built for this kind of drama. My resume only has qualifications for sarcasm, snacks, and skipping P.E."
But… I don't pull away. I mean, how could I? BB's crying like the ground's about to swallow her, and even my stone-cold, sarcasm-fueled heart can't just shove her off.
I sigh, patting her head like a malfunctioning parent patting their kid. "There, there. It's fine. You're fine. We'll… figure this out. Somehow. Maybe. Hopefully."
Skiez pinches the bridge of his nose like he's about to faint from secondhand stupidity. Nav keeps whispering about responsibility. BB keeps crying.
And me?
I just keep thinking, Wow. I literally just wanted chips. How did I end up in a soap opera
So, apparently, Nav is the "hero" of this tragic soap opera.
Section A's golden boy. Mister Perfect Hair. Mister "I'll take responsibility" with that calm voice like he's in a shampoo commercial.
And honestly? It's weirding me out.
Like—Nav, bro, this isn't some cheesy romance movie where you swoop in, hug the crying girl, and whisper about responsibilities. This is real life. Pregnant life. Painful, terrifying, "your entire world flips upside down" life.
And yet… he doesn't flinch. He just sits there with BB, letting her cry all over his sleeve, murmuring stuff like, "It's okay, you're not alone."
I'm standing in the corner with my chips thinking: Wow, look at you, Nav. Future dad material while I'm over here barely qualified to babysit a goldfish.
I mean, don't get me wrong—props to him. Most guys I know would've sprinted for the exit faster than our P.E. teacher chasing free donuts
Sky's POV
So, apparently, Nav is the "hero" of this tragic soap opera.
Section A's golden boy. Mister Perfect Hair. Mister "I'll take responsibility" with that calm voice like he's in a shampoo commercial.
And honestly? It's weirding me out.
Like—Nav, bro, this isn't some cheesy romance movie where you swoop in, hug the crying girl, and whisper about responsibilities. This is real life. Pregnant life. Painful, terrifying, "your entire world flips upside down" life.
And yet… he doesn't flinch. He just sits there with BB, letting her cry all over his sleeve, murmuring stuff like, "It's okay, you're not alone."
I'm standing in the corner with my chips thinking: Wow, look at you, Nav. Future dad material while I'm over here barely qualified to babysit a goldfish.
I mean, don't get me wrong—props to him. Most guys I know would've sprinted for the exit faster than our P.E. teacher chasing free donuts. But Nav? He stays. He comforts. He doesn't even look embarrassed.
And that's… kind of annoying, actually.
Because now I feel like the useless sidekick. The sarcastic frog voice girl whose only weapon is bad jokes and emergency snacks.
Ugh.
I crunch a chip loudly, just to break the tension. "So what now, Nav? You gonna start knitting baby socks in third period? Or should we add Daddy of the Year to your student ID?"
He gives me this look. You know the one. The Sky, you're so immature look. The same one teachers give me when I fake stomachaches to skip running laps.
I smirk back. Because hey, sarcasm is my love language.
But deep down… yeah. I'll admit it.
Nav's steady, calm, too-good-to-be-true act? It makes me wonder if maybe BB's not as alone as she thinks.
And for once… maybe I'm glad Mister Perfect Hair exists
So, Nav's in "serious hero mode," BB's crying like a soap opera finale, and I'm in the corner still trying to eat chips without being noticed.
But of course, my brain doesn't shut up.
Baby names, Sky. That's the real issue here.
I mean—if BB really has a baby, it deserves a name that matches this level of chaos. Like…
Dorito (because snacks deserve respect).
Crybaby Jr. (honor thy mother).
McOopsie Daisy (self-explanatory).
I'm literally biting my tongue to not laugh when—oops—my tongue betrays me.
"Honestly," I mutter, way louder than intended, "Dorito's kinda cute for a baby name."
The room freezes.
Nav stares at me like I just committed a crime against humanity. BB blinks at me through tears, confused. And Skiez—oh no—Skiez bursts out laughing.
"Dorito??" Skiez wheezes, clutching his stomach. "What are you planning to do, Sky? Feed the poor kid salsa when it's born?!"
"I mean," I say defensively, holding up my chip bag, "at least it's gender-neutral. And delicious."
Nav rubs his temples. "This isn't a joke, Sky."
BB sniffles, confused. "...Dorito?"
"Better than 'Crybaby Jr.,'" I blurt before I can stop myself.
Skiez absolutely loses it, sliding down the wall laughing, tears in his eyes. "STOP—you're gonna kill me!"
Nav looks two seconds away from throwing me and Skiez out the window. "You two are unbelievable."
I shrug and shove another chip in my mouth. "Hey, at least I'm brainstorming. What have you done? Hm? Exactly."
BB's still sniffling, but there's the tiniest, tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth like she's holding back a laugh. And for once, maybe that's not the worst thing in the world.
Nav's face is red—like, angry tomato red. He slams his hand on the desk.
"ARE YOU TWO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"
The chips nearly fly out of my hand. Skiez nearly chokes on air from laughing too hard.
Nav glares at us, pointing like some angry school principal. "This is not a joke! BB is crying her heart out and you're over here naming her child after… after a SNACK?!"
"Excuse you," I say, holding up my chip bag like a lawyer presenting Exhibit A, "it's not just a snack. It's a lifestyle."
Skiez wheezes so hard he's coughing now. "Dorito Weaso! Imagine the roll call—'Dorito Weaso, present sir!'" He slaps the floor, rolling.
"STOP IT!" Nav practically growls. "You both are unbelievable. BB doesn't need—"
But then… a sound interrupts him.
At first, it's tiny. Like a hiccup. But then it grows.
BB… is laughing.
She's literally got tears on her cheeks still, but instead of sobbing, she's suddenly giggling, covering her mouth.
"Oh my god," she chokes out between laughs, "Dorito… McOopsie Daisy… what the hell is wrong with you two?!"
I blink. Skiez blinks. Nav blinks.
And then I point dramatically. "HA! See? She laughed! My methods work. You're welcome, tomato boy."
"Don't call me that," Nav snaps, pinching his nose like he's praying for patience.
Skiez smirks. "C'mon, Nav. Admit it. Dorito's kinda iconic."
Nav looks like he's seriously debating whether jail time is worth murdering us both.
Meanwhile BB's still laughing through sniffles, the tension in her face easing for the first time. And honestly? If making dumb baby names is what it takes to make her forget her pain for just five seconds… then maybe Dorito McOopsie Daisy was the best idea I've ever had.
So there we were, in this weird after-hours soap opera — BB crying, Nav playing saintly future dad, and me… well, me just trying not to laugh at the sheer telenovela energy of it all.
Nav: "BB, I'll take responsibility."
BB: "I don't want to be a mom, I can't—" (cue waterworks)
And me? My brain did what it always does in a crisis: turned into a stand-up comedy routine.
I folded my arms, tilted my head, and said with the straightest face I could manage:
"So, when the baby comes, are we naming it after you two? Like… Navarro Jr.? Or maybe… oh! How about Doritos Mendoza? Nice ring to it, huh?"
BB stopped mid-sob. Nav froze mid-lecture.
The silence lasted a full three seconds before BB let out a tiny, watery laugh. Skiez, who had been leaning against the wall looking like he wanted to slam his head into it, completely lost it. "PFFT—Doritos Mendoza! Sky, you're evil!"
Nav's soul left his body. He looked at me like I had just committed war crimes.
But BB was actually smiling through her tears now. So I shrugged and added,
"Hey, at least Doritos would be crunchy, cheesy, and loved by everyone. Unlike, you know, us."