She looks away again, taking a deep drag of her cigarette.
‘f**k it.’ He slaps the steering wheel. ‘Don’t you think about it? How old he would be? What he would be doing now?’
‘He?’ she says out the window.
‘I always thought it was a he,’ Jake says.
She pushes fingers into her temples.
‘Maybe if you told me,’ he continues, ‘talked to me. Instead of just going off and doing what you wanted and not telling me till it was done.’
‘It! It’s called a termination.’
‘Abortion,’ he spits back.
She flicks her cigarette out the window. It glows briefly on the footpath. ‘Sorry,’ she says, barely audible. ‘I didn’t know you still thought about it.’
‘Whatever.’ He shuffles in his seat, taps the outside of the car with his nails. ‘I was wondering. Can I take La-Li to Mum’s tomorrow?’
‘I was thi
