Chapter #13: Two Lines for Pregnant

A/N: Guess who's back, back again! Hi everyone, so sorry I've disappeared. I'm truly sorry, with all my heart. If you didn't hear, my dad passed away November 17th, 2014. He passed away from 4 massive heart attacks while I was at school, in Religion class. It was tragic, and words can't explain how hard it was and still is. He used to get excited over the views and votes I get on my book. He was proud of me, and I'm back today because I want to continue to feel the happiness I felt from the feedback you guys gave me from this book, for myself and for my dad. It's not why I was gone though. Dealing with this loss has ruined me, and completely conflicted my life. Not only am I sorry for being gone for so long, but I am sorry for letting you guys down with the loss of updates. I'm back now though, and that's all that matters. Thanks for the kind messages everyone. Love you all. So damn much. Enjoy this chapter, x. -Diana


I swear, it's like whenever something happens, everything else happens at the same time, throwing my brain into a huge ball of questions, misery or fright. Evan was on a bus, on the road to fame- Cleveland. I was extremely proud that my boyfriend was successful, doing big things- moving on from our rough past year. I felt content for him, but at the same time, an ache in my heart was constantly there. I knew I was selfish, maybe a little conceded- everyone who knows me knows just how selfish I really was, but Evan was another story. I couldn't stop thinking about him. 

I couldn't let go of my boyfriend and Asher was almost on the verge of tugging me off of him. It was hard saying bye to boyfriend for only 5 days, but it felt like he was leaving for a century.

10 minutes after he'd left, I'd gotten a phone call from my Uncle. Auntie was in labour. I almost thought I was the one in labour from the horrid stomach pain I was feeling.

"Congratulations, Uncle," I murmured into the phone, and his chuckle was almost unfamiliar to me. 

"Will you come, sweetheart?" he asks, over noisy voices in the background.

"I'll try, I swear I will."

He sighs lightly, I can almost imagine him rubbing his eyebrows, leaving a light wrinkle in the middle as he nods. I missed him, oddly enough. "Hey uncle, thank you- for everything. I don't think I say it enough."

"We love you Peyton. You're a strong girl. Hopefully this little one is just as beautiful as you."

"Oh she will be," I smile, feeling bile rise in my throat, as I say goodbye and hang the phone. I spit into the toilet bowl. It felt like hours passedl; me laying on the bathroom floor, my cheek against the cold toilet, before Veronica walks in, her hair frizzy and bags below her eyes.

"Peyton, you seriously need to get up. He won't stop calling," Veronica groans, tossing my cellphone on the ground next to me.

"Veronica, I really can't move," I moan, dropping my cheek onto the toilet seat.

I hadn't eaten anything all day, and the last time I drank was two days ago. I couldn't understand why I felt like vomiting so badly, but every inch of me was urging to spew everything in my belly. This wasn't a hang over- it couldn't be. "I feel so sick," I muttered, my voice barely coming out above a whisper.

Veronica gave me an exasperated look, her bold eyes rolling. I thought they'd roll out of her head. "Is there seriously a thing where you're still hung over, 2 days later?"

I chuckled, but quickly gagged and placed my head back comfortably on the toilet bowl. "Maybe I have food poisoning?"

She chuckled, tossing a damp cloth on the floor next to me. I tiredly grab it, placing it on my forehead and looked up to her in hopes that she'd respond with "Of course! It's just food poisoning. You're fine, and definitely not oddly sick", but instead, her response made me raise my eyebrows, and my stomach flip flop once or twice.

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