Then some student bleakly vocalizes, “No one’s going to check?”

The person sounds confused and scared. It’s obviously their first time witnessing something they only read about in textbooks and hear about secondhand, and considering they’re only high school students none of them would want it to be theirs. The young and unexperienced teacher gets a hold of the situation, realizing exactly what that situation is. She acts mechanically when she appeases the class (although no one’s making a sound) and tells them its okay, that she knows what to do. She walks to the door and opens it, trying to remember her training.

Miss Rose takes her time as she kneels on the floor, inspecting what arrived. From where Daniel is sitting he can’t see what is happening, but the people at the front do. The silence is broken by a couple of girls awing, regardless of the fact that Daniel is sure it’s covered in blankets.

Its said they always come in blankets.

The front row girl’s cooing for what they can’t see opens up the watergate for everyone else to give their opinion on the bewildering situation. The room becomes noisy and the previous confrontation he was having with with Ricky is forgotten, instead everyone asks questions trying to solve a mystery that will be over as soon as the teacher stands up.

Whose do you think it is?

Everyone here’s too young though, it’ll ruin their future

Did you take your suppressants?

I think I forgot to take mine today

There will be some beef

Fuck, that girl was looking at me weird yesterday

Amongst all the ruckus, Daniel seems to be the only calm one, or at least that’s what he thinks. He can’t see a certain redhead behind him turning white as a sheet and remaining quiet as well. However, Daniel’s reason not to panic is totally different from the latter’s, Daniel is calm because he knows is not his. He didn’t wish for it, he would never wish for something like that, and of course, that’s the only way it could be his because the idea that someone else wanted it to be his is completely out of the question. He’s foolish to even think that. So Daniel is calm and composed as he waits for the teacher to call on someone, albeit with a little anticipation because really, who could be that unlucky.

Miss Rose finally stands up, gaining some of her student’s respect for behaving and looking as professionally as they need her to be. Her features don’t give anything away as everyone goes silent again, and her eyes don’t have to search the room to find the particular person, she glances at someone behind Daniel before her eyes settle on him.

Her eyes settle on him.

Her eyes settle on Daniel.

“Mr. Wilson,” she says. So tentatively, so tactfully. Now her face does give away some of her fake nonchalance and professionalism, she’s looking at him tenderly, pitifully, dare he say lovingly. Like she’s seeing something in him she hadn’t seen before, like she’s seeing someone else as she looks at him.

Oh fuck

“May you come here for a moment?,” her words are so carefully and soothingly put out. Everyone else is staring at him, gaping, murmuring, but Daniel can’t see it or hear it because

Oh fuck

Daniel’s actions after that are mechanical, he knows he got from his desk to the door, he just doesn’t know how. In the blink of an eye he’s there, looking down at the cause of this whole spectacle. The legendary basket waits for him, and as far as baskets waiting outside of doors go, there’s a baby in it. A real sleeping human baby enveloped in a yellow blanket. His first reaction when seeing it is to yell its obviously not mine! Because really, how in the fuck could it be? But he looks at it again, and can’t help but think: how could it not?

He goes to his knees, completely forgetting to check the name plate on the side of the basket, and Daniel just looks at the thing inside. The baby is pretty big for a newborn, newly-wished, he corrects himself, still not grasping the reality and gravity of the situation. It’s skin is lighter than Daniel’s, biracial then, he concludes, as if it’s other characteristics didn’t give it away. Its facial features are softer than his, it’s nose a bit pointier. It’s lips, however, are totally like his mom’s, he can’t help but slightly smile at this. But that isn’t what makes him not doubt the baby’s parentage, is the spots. Because of course any kid of his would have them too. Yet, it is what makes him not doubt that he is the father the very thing that does. Because the light spots aren’t tainting or polluting the baby’s skin, like they are in his. No, instead, they’re delicately sprinkled over the baby’s tiny and rosy cheeks, they decorate the bridge of it’s nose, they adorn the outer shell of it’s ear. How could something so beautiful have some part of him in it? He can see the way some of the white, pinkish, patches transfer to the baby’s right eyebrow, making part of the red hair white as it does.

Red hair.

Fuck

In his trance, Daniel completely overlooked that very prominent fact. His baby has red hair. Red eyebrows, where they’re not painted by white, red eyelashes where the white ones aren’t occupying space, red curly hair on it’s head enveloping that white fringe right in the middle of it’s forehead.

Who else in the fucking classroom has vibrant red fucking hair?

Fuck

Daniel feels a hand cover his shoulder, Miss Rose says something about not touching the baby without the other parent. Daniel tunes her out, with a shaky hand he moves the yellow blanket away from where it’s covering the name plate, his breath catching as he reads the clear print:

                                                  Daniel Wilson, Richard Davis