Colby had an incredibly strong gut instinct when it came to Luna. Starting with leaving the hospital early and ever since, she was positive that she knew best. She liked to think that it was because her own mom had been the same way, but Colby couldn’t know. She couldn’t ask her dad. And there was no one else. The other girls in the program—there were a few dads, too, but they mostly sat silent, slouched in their chairs, looking bored—seemed so nervous about their babies. Not Colby. She knew exactly how she wanted to do things. Take feeding, for example. Colby was the only one who nursed. And she planned to for as long as she could. That’s what her boobs were for, after all. All the other girls gave their babies bottles. And they left them lying in their strollers for hours and hours at a time, crying, while they texted on their phones and smoked and were generally nasty skanks. Nobody’s Perfect was entertaining enough, she supposed. Milo came with her, and he camped it up to the point where the other guys hated him and his Super Gay Daddy act.
