The Eighth Breakup ✓

Chapter 9 Your Ex Is Pregnant

He got up with his laptop and left the living room.

Fuming, I grabbed my phone and Googled the traits of "Helen of Troy." I hardly had any interest in Greek mythology unlike my mythology-obsessed parents. I only knew about how Helen married some King and then met Paris and ran away with him. And started a war only to end back up with her original husband. What an idiot.

The results about Helen's traits were a little . . . upsetting. "Self-conscious," "selfish," "proud," "unfaithful," "complex," "deceitful," and "clever and vile."

None applied to me . . . except for maybe complex.

Whatever.

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"Hanna just updated her status!" Nolan said excitedly. We were sitting in a cafe for breakfast. Nolan and I weren't speaking to each other unless it was about his ex.

"Oh joy," I muttered unenthusiastically.

"She says she's chilling with her boyfriend at 'Bread Zepplin.'" He would make a great detective or FBI officer.

"'Bread Zepplin?' as in Led Zeppelin? The English Rock band?" I asked.

"Yes, dork. Bread Zepplin is a chain of restaurants here in this part of New York," he explained. "She's at one of them."

"How--?"

He immediately stood up and said, "We'll split. You go one way and me the other. Whoever finds them first can call the other one." He paid for the food quickly, even though I insisted to pay for myself. He grabbed my sweater sleeve and dragged me out of the cafe.

Pulling my coat on, I complained, "I don't know Manhattan at all. What if I get lost?"

Nolan rolled his eyes. "You own a cell phone. Give me a call and I'll find you."

"But--"

"Look for the restaurant in this street," he pointed to the street we were in, "and I'll go check the opposite way." Just like that, Nolan Milesblue ditched me in the middle of a crowded sidewalk and disappeared.

Groaning, I pulled out my phone and checked different locations of "Bread Zepplin." The first one was around the end of the street. I tried to find Hanna but I coulsn't. It wasn't that easy to spot someone you've only seen in pictures that were five months old. I went to the next restaurant which was buried between two other restaurant buildings. As I was about to enter the restaurant, people began exiting. Did they want to all leave at once?

I shifted to the side, accidentally hitting my shoulder against someone else's.

The girl dropped her phone.

"Shoot, sorry," I said, picking her iPhone and giving it to her.

"Hanna, are you okay?" a medium-built, blond-haired boy asked from behind. My eyes flicked to the girl's face. She was Hanna. The one from the photo Nolan showed me. The guy must be her boyfriend.

"I'm fine, Chace," she told him with a sweet smile. "Walking properly will take some practice." The words struck me when my eyes moved down to her bloated stomach. "Excuse us," she said to me and they walked away holding hands.

She was pregnant.

Damn it, Nolan.

I force myself to follow them. It was easy to stay inconspicuous within the crowds of people.

"Chace, you should really be home right now," Hanna told her boyfriend. "You know your parents don't want us together." That didn't sound good.

He put his around her. "We're both eighteen. Legally adults. Our parents can't force us to separate."