Lucky Number Eleven

Chapter Eighteen

Layla

Exposé Top Story: Best Shocker!

We see a lot of Branch Best. (Granted, most of our female readership would argue we don't see quite enough.) Despite the compromising positions we find Number Eleven in, this isn't usually one of them.

Best was seen coming out of the Standen Hotel late last night with Finn Miller. Eye witnesses say Miller was actually holding up his friend and helping him into his SUV.

We can't say there's much Best could do to shock us, but this is very abnormal for him. We've seen him in the throes of a bender and it still didn't look this bad. Not able to stand? There's gossip there and we'll let you know when we figure it out. Stay tuned.

*

"Who's making breakfast?" Poppy turns her head to look at me. "You? You're gonna be a mommy. I feel like it would be good training."

"Sometimes I hate you," I laugh, stretching.

"Hate me all you want but I'll take French toast and bacon."

"I'm not making you breakfast."

We lie in my bed, the sun coming through the light blue curtains and filling the room. My body feels like it's been through the wringer and I'm afraid to move.

Morning sickness has been hit or miss, but that's not really my worry. I'm worried how I'll feel mentally once I let the sleep fog roll out and reality fill the void.

Every morning since finding out I was pregnant has been a little rough. Again, not from the nausea, but more from the unknown.

My heart pings with the memory from last night. Remembering his face and the way he looked at me like I was some kind of groupie playing a game is something that might haunt me forever. I'm not sure what I really expected, but I didn't expect to feel like a piece of trash.

"You're going to be fine," Poppy says softly.

I swing my legs off the side of the bed and sit up, feeling my stomach settle. Giving myself a few seconds to gather my thoughts, I'm relieved that I don't feel sad.

I'm pissed.

"I'm going to be better than fine," I say, getting to my feet. "This was unexpected, but, like you said, it's a baby. I'm having a baby." Letting those words wash over my tongue and linger in the air, I absorb them. "I just need a little while to come up with a plan and figure out how I'm going to do this."

"Have you told your parents?"

"Uh, no," I laugh. "I want to have answers to the questions they're going to have before I go in there announcing they're going to be grandparents."

"Do you think they'll be happy?"

"Yes. I'm sure, on some level, they will. But irritated that it's happening this way." The doorbell chimes and I glance at the clock. "Who could that be?"

"Maybe the universe heard my plea and brought me French toast," Poppy says, climbing out of bed. "I'll get the door in case it's Branch. He has an appointment with my right hand."

Laughing, although I'm sure she's not entirely kidding, I change out of my oversized t-shirt and into a pair of shorts and a cami. By the time I walk into the living room, I spy my brother sitting on the sofa.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as I walk by towards the kitchen. "I figured you'd be hungover."

"I didn't drink much," he admits. "Someone had to babysit Branch."