Do I Wanna Know?

Chapter 31

Harry didn't react right away, and I think he might have been the first man on earth to keep a complete, one hundred percent, straight blank face. He didn't look mad, or scared, or happy, or excited. He looked like a robot processing information.

"Now...would be a good time...if you could say something..." I barely whispered the words as my eyes flashed across his face, waiting for some kind of emotion.

"That's not funny, Grace," he said, still very serious. "Why would you joke about something like that?"

Although it was very much not a joke, I laughed for some reason. "Harry, I'm dead fucking serious."

"You're laughing, you're joking."

"No! I'm laughing because you don't believe me, and because I've been so petrified to see the look on your face but you don't even have a look."

He shook his head now, the same way he does when he's frustrated. "You're on your fuckin' period for fucks sake. By definition, that means 'not pregnant'."

"I'm not on my period," I spoke more seriously now. "I told you that because I didn't want to have sex before you knew the truth."

"Okay, well I still don't believe you. It's a shit joke for you to make."

I stared back at him as he picked up his pizza to have another bite, and that's when I stood from the table to go inside. The test was still capped in my makeup drawer because I knew that was one place he would never look for anything, in the case that I didn't tell him right away.

Now my hands were shaking from the adrenaline as I snatched it and ran back downstairs with it clutched in my fist. Harry didn't even look at me when I came back outside, so I ripped his plate away and replaced it with the test.

And there it was. Now he was pissed.

I tried to stand my ground as he slowly looked up at my face, and then his jaw clenched as he moved his gaze straight ahead to my stomach. It looked like he wanted to cut me open himself and take whatever form the baby currently was right out of me.

Then, very slowly he said, "You cannot be pregnant, Grace."

"Well, I am. I've been having morning sickness and I'm over a week late for my period now. I'm never late."

When he suddenly stood up from the table, the movement scared me so much that I jolted and took a step back. He walked right around the table, clutched my wrist in his whole hand, and started pulling me back into the house.

"Wait–where are we going? What are you doing?"

"I don't trust some fucking stick that you pissed on," he muttered, snatching my keys from the entry table before we stormed out of the house together.

"Okay, well I don't think it's such a good idea to drive when you're so–"

He slammed the door to the passenger seat before I could finish, and I could feel myself sinking into the leather as I watched him take long strides to get in on the driver's side. His thumb jammed into the engine start button so hard and so fast that it didn't work the first time, which only pissed him off more.

I didn't ask him where we were going, or say another word at all for that matter. All I did was watch his jaw clench and relax over and over again, and I saw the way his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel and squeezed it until the leather squeaked.

After almost an hour of zipping through traffic across the PCH and 101, we ended up in Beverly Hills. I had never been to Zayn's, Niall's, or Louis', but I had a feeling we were heading to at least one of them when he started driving us down a quiet and wealthy residential neighborhood.