What's up with Micah

Micah's phone kept ringing. He'd look at the caller id. He knew it would be her. It would be Sally.

He nursed his bottom lip slightly. Honestly, he didn't know what to say. Oh, he knew what she wanted to hear. After all, they'd broken up. Except, something. OK, someone was keeping them together.

And..and he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear all the mean things she could say to him.

He shut his eyes tight as he rested on Diago's couch and slightly sighed, but not too heavily. He gritted once more and went on with clicking about this streaming video to the next. A chill came over him.

He imagined the baby crying. It was a baby girl. He'd seen her once at his mother's house. She'd brought the baby over at Thanksgiving. That's when the bottom fell out. He remembered the horrible things his mother said, his dad too. He was just a misfit. Did he think he could make a life for them, being in a band?

He'd left and hadn't been back. Nobody had any real answers for him. Not even his friends.

"It'll be hard." He remembered someone telling him. It really wasn't an answer.

He'd left Sally his measly paycheck at Christmas. She looked at him as if she expected more. Had he forgotten how the baby had so many needs?

Her name was Ava. Didn't he remember? She had his eyes. It was his baby.

But he hadn't felt it yet. Instead, his soul felt shatter. Perhaps, there was a nervous tick deep inside that kept him up at night. If only he could sleep. If only he could be sick and throw up. Of course, he knew none of that would save him nor Sally and baby Ava.