Page 24 of The Final Faceoff
Her hands drop into her lap. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
Her shoulders sag, her gaze flickering away. “You don’t want to be a part of this, Leif. You really don’t. Turn around and walk away.”
“Let me hear it,” I insist.
“You don’t want to hear it. Save yourself,” she mutters. “Actually, I don’t want to say it. Not now—maybe never.”
Okay, this is worse than I thought.
“Listen, Hailey, you either talk now or when we get to my place,” I warn her.
“Leave, Leif. Leave and never look back,” she says dramatically, like we’re in some black-and-white melodrama.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I knew you taking theater during senior year was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”
She glares.
I sigh. “Just tell me why your life is over, and then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do with you, Miss The-World-Is-Ending.”
She swallows hard, her throat working like she’s trying to force the words up. And then . . . “I’m pregnant.”
The words are barely above a whisper, but they gut me.
I freeze. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
She laughs, short and humorless. “There it is. That’s the look I knew you’d give me when you learned about it.”
I shake my head quickly, too quickly. “I just—” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t expecting?—”
“Yeah, well.” She snorts. “Join the club.”
Pregnant.
Hailey.
Pregnant.
I sink into the chair across from her, rubbing a hand over my jaw.
It’s fine. It’s fine. This happens, right? People have kids. They have families.
But then Killion’s voice booms in my head:Make a move before you lose her.He’s been telling me that for years. Just last month he said it again . . . And here we are.
I lost her, didn’t I?
“So . . .” I force my voice even, careful. “What are you thinking? Are you moving to Greece permanently with the guy?”
She blinks at me. Twice. “What guy?”
I study her face, looking for signs that she’s messing with me, that she’s trying to dodge the conversation like she always does.
“The guy you slept with,” I say. Because that’s why she’s avoiding me, right? The guy doesn’t want us to be friends anymore. I’ve heard of this happening.
My ribs squeeze too tight, my breath shortening, my vision tunneling in on nothing and everything at the same time.
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “Leif, what the hell are you talking about?”
