Chapter 15

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Two major discoveries occured two weeks ago. 

One: I found out that I was pregnant. That was definitely a biggy. 

Two: I found out the my supposed uncle was really my dad all along. Shocker? Very much. 

But that was the past, and this is the present. The present currently includes dress shopping. In the maternity section. Wonderful. 

"What about this one?" Zoey asked, holding up a gown that looked like I wouldn't be able to fit into it even now. 

"No." I scanned through the rack of white and ivory dress, looking for the perfect one. I had seen over thirty dresses just today, and a total of at least one hundred in all. I was officially sick of wedding planning. "This better last because I'm not getting married ever again." 

"I'm sure it'll last. I've seen the way you look at British boy. It makes me a little sick to my stomach, but I'm happy for you." 

"I'm happy for you, too, Zoey!" I exclaimed.

"Wait, for what?" she asked curiously. 

I looked up at her, and it might have been just hormones, if it was possible at three months, but I almost broke down into tears because her words meant so much to me. "Zoey," I cried happily. I pulled her into a tight hug, and she laughed.

"I love you, Rachel. You're going to be so hormonal, and I love it. I can't wait! 

"Whatever. Let's just go try on these dresses." I blindly grabbed a handful of dresses, and Zoey went to grab the fake pregnancy stomach. "I really never want to wear another dress in my life after going through this much trouble just pick a white one that I'll wear once." 

"Just go along with it. If you and British boy eloped some people would just be pissed off. I know I would be. I really like this whole planning thing." I looked at her in disbelief. How could she like something so stressful?

"I'm just going to try these on, and hopefully I'll find one that I like," I said to her. I disappeared into the changing room, put on the belly to make me look as pregnant as I'll be when the actual wedding takes place. 

I showed Zoey dress after dress, but we both disliked them all. It wasn't until the last dress that we were finally able to take a deep breath. I stepped out of the changing room in a Grecian styled white dress, and Zoey's mouth dropped. 

"If you don't pick that one you're a moron," she said, being very forward. 

I looked at myself in the full length mirror and gawked at myself. "I think I'm in love with a dress. Is that weird?" I asked her. 

She laughed and responded, "No, I think I'm in love with that dress on you. Just imagine how great you look when it's really your stomach under there and not some cheap stuffed one. Why don't pregnant ladies get married all the time?"

"Um, maybe because they're pregnant?" I gave her a look that accused her of stupidity, but she ignored it. 

"Well, they should because it just makes you look ten times prettier," she gushed. 

"Is that supposed to be a blow to my self-esteem?" I asked her.

"Definitely not." 

"Well, I think this is the one. I'm just going to go pay for it, and then I have to leave right away," I told her from behind the dressing room curtain. I pulled the dress off along with the fake belly. 

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