19
“I’m pregnant!” These were unexpected words. For a sixteen year old boy they were unimaginable. He just held her back for the longest time, eventually whispering, “Don’t worry I am sure I can work something out whatever it is. Whatever we want, whatever you want, I think we had better, I know I had better get something to eat and we can talk about it afterwards...” His voice had cracked and trailed off.
This was the first time Amia had seen Art anything other than supremely confident and fully in control. In a way, she was happy to be seeing that he was occasionally completely at a loss. He was in fact a normal boy, or would have been if he didn’t have the Will.
They walked mutely hand in hand for a while and ended up at the Porcelain Kettle. Amia needed a cup of tea, badly. After tw
