Maxerica Academy

Chapter 38: Epilogue #1 of 3

The smoke drifted up from the candle, the soothing scent filled my nose, but it didn't seem to stop the nervous jiggle of my leg. I didn't know how this would go down at all. I know that it's a requirement, but would Maxon be happy? Did he want it? Oh my god, did I want this? Was I ready? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...

"Ames?" His sweet, melodic voice questioned, a head of wild blonde hair poking into my room.

"Maxon!" I exclaimed a little too loudly, turning around to face him.

"Uh, Yeah," he said, giving me a questioning look 

"Hi," I sighed, my anxiety drifting away and yet sky rocketing all at once, with that one look at his handsome face.

His eyes drifted towards the table I had set up. "You made us dinner?"

"Yeah, I thought you should try my cooking for once Instead of the chefs," I explained, picking up the still warm plates off my night stand and placing them on the table.

"A candle and flowers? What's going on Mrs. Schreave?" He asked playfully.

"Oh nothing, Mr. Schreave," I responded, hiding a smile at my new name. Mrs. Schreave.
I pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit in. He did, but not before pulling out my own chair and than pushing it in.

He leaned forward and sniffed at the candle. "Baby powder? Interesting smell."

"Huh. Weird," I mumbled, busying myself with pouring 2 glasses of water. "Must of been all they had left."

"So what have you prepared for us?" Maxon asked, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"You know, just whatever they had in the fridge. It just of been a delivery day there wasn't much to make," I muttered quickly, using quick frenzied movements to adjust things so that I didn't have to look at him. But I did catch him giving me another questioning glance.

"Okay..."

I revealed the plates. "It's not much. Just baby back ribs with a side of baby pasta with fettuccine sauce mixed with some baby shrimp and baby spinach. And a mixture of baby corn and baby carrots with some baby potatoes if you'd like."

"Uh. You said you threw this together?"

"Yes, yes. Very much on the whim," I rushed, shoving a spoonful of pasta into my mouth to avoid having to talk.

"America what aren't you telling me?"

"Do you not like the food? I could make something else?"

"Ames—"

"More water?"

"Ames—"

"Some wine?"

"America!" He shouted, gripping my hand.

"Don't make me tell you.."

"Tell me what?"

"Just look around," I advised.

"What—." His eyes scanned his surroundings. "Baby....are you..."

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded, fearing for his reaction. I heard the scrapping of his chair and knew he was going to leave, but than I was being held in his arms.

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"That's great!"

I looked up. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I didn't know if you wanted a kid or if..."