Chips!!!!

“Opening his eyes, Shane searched the darkness. Where was he? It didn’t take long to realize this wasn’t his bed—he couldn’t be at home. He lay on cold, hard concrete in a puddle of water. Confusion and disorientation caused a surge of panic to boil through him. And then he noticed he was curled around a warm body. Silky hair tickled his nose, smelling faintly of roses and lavender.”
― N.W. Harris, The Last Orphans

“I fucked up. I really fucked up”
― Hannah M. Lynn, Peas, Carrots and an Aston Martin

“Just don’t let her drive. She may be talented, but she’s a bloody American.”
― W.J. May, Rae of Hope

“It’s just that I’m pregnant and I wanted to tell you.” -tripped over his own feet and stumbled forward. He was forced to slap his hands against the edge of the desk or fall flat on his ass as his mind raced to make sense of what she’d just said. “W-what?” he asked, not really sure that he’d heard her correctly. “I just wanted to let you know that I was pregnant and to let you know that we needed to stop at a store on the way home tonight and pick up milk,” Haley said brightly while the class stared at her in utter shock while Jason stood there, struggling to catch his breath. He felt himself nod, not really sure why he was doing it, but he felt that he should be doing something. “Alright,” Haley said, brightly, “I’ll see you after class!” And with that, she finally left the room just as his legs gave out. He held onto the desk for dear life, still struggling to comprehend the words that had come out of his wife’s mouth. Pregnant? Haley was pregnant. They were having a baby. A baby, they were having a baby because Haley was pregnant. He’d gotten Haley pregnant. She was having his baby. They were- “Are you alright, Mr. Bradford?” someone asked, a boy or a girl, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was definitely not okay. “D-do you need anything, Mr. Bradford?” someone else asked. The response was instant, years of Bradford survival taking over in that moment of crisis. “Food. I need food.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps