The Wink

Chapter Seven: The Last Straw

Chapter Seven: The Last Straw

I was pregnant and I didn't know what to do. I stared at the pregnancy test in disbelief, my breath catching in my throat. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be. But... it was.

There was a small baby inside of me, was my first thought.

My next thought was, I should name him Nemo.

I ran out of the bathroom, holding the pregnancy test up triumphantly like a trophy. Zayn was still sitting at the kitchen table, phone clutched protectively in his hands. "Zayn!" I yelled as loud as I could. I shoved the test in his face, screaming in joy. "Do you see it?! Do you see it?! Do you?! Zayn?! Zayn! I will delete your Twitter and smash your phone if you don't pay attention!"

That got Zayn's immediate attention. He locked his phone and put it down, staring at the positive pregnancy test in my hand. "What am I supposed to be seeing, Georgia?" he asked quietly.

I shook the test vigorously, nearly shoving the darn thing up his nostril. "This! Look at it! Compliment me! Tell me I'd make a wonderful mother!"

Zayn's expression screamed repulsion. He stood from the kitchen chair and backed away toward the coffee maker. "I don't think that's something to be celebrated, Georgia," he admitted, his back to me.

I got so angry, I was seeing crimson. "AND WHY NOT?!" I yelled, suddenly protective of the thing manifesting inside of my body. "DO YOU HATE BABIES? IS THAT IT?! You have a triangle fetish, and yet you hate babies?!"

"No!" Zayn looked down, pleading. "It's not that!"

"Is your triangle fetish interfering with your love of babies?! What, do you hate the fish and minorities too?"

His eyes hardened. "Never - " his voice was low and deep, " - speak of the triangles that way again."

"And why not?! Because they have three sides and three angles?! Or is it their Illuminati-like references?! That's no reason for you to hate babies, Zayn!"

Zayn didn't bother responding. His clenched fists and steaming expression were more than enough. He growled and stomped away.

Too mad for words, I ran towards the stairs, wanting to tell Harry the amazing good news. Maybe he'd shoot me that famous seductive, irresistible, suggestive wink of his. It looked like I was wrong with Harry too.

When I entered Harry's room, Harry was asleep again. It took a couple tries, but eventually I shook him awake with a promise of serving him pancakes for breakfast. Now that my swagbae's eyes were wide open, I showed him the pregnancy test, a grin spreading from ear to ear. I could barely contain my excitement.

Harry, on the other hand, was not nearly as excited as I. "What's that, love?" he asked, rubbing his eyes groggily. "You know I can't function without a coffee and some pancakes first."

I thrust the test in his face as I did Zayn before, nearly stabbing his eye out. "Look at it!"

Harry squinted at the test and instinctively moved away from it. "Get that disgusting thing away from me, whatever it is," he muttered, turning around in his sheets. He sighed, adding, "And wake me up when you have the pancakes made."

"But we made a Nemo," I whined.

Harry made a grunting noise, and the next thing I knew, a pillow was in my face. "I don't care," Harry replied. "Please go make my pancakes or I'll have to make them myself, and you really don't want that to happen."

"Maybe I do," I countered. "Maybe I just really want to make you mad."

"No, you don't."