Page 92 of The Final Faceoff
But no.
Because the second I step into the coffee shop, my phone vibrates violently in my pocket.
Jules: Turn around, coward.
My stomach drops.
And before I can even pretend I didn’t see the text, I hear her voice.
“You’re seriously hiding from me?”
I freeze. Then, very slowly, I turn around.
Jules stands there, arms crossed, expression hovering somewhere betweenYou absolute bitchandI love you, but you are testing my patience.Her eyebrows—which she 100% inherited from our mother—are doing that thing where they arch in unison, a silent promise of impending judgment.
This makes me miss Mom, but thankfully, I control the waterworks. I’m getting good at that—not crying every five fucking minutes.
I try for nonchalance. “I wasn’t hiding.”
She scoffs. “Oh, really? Because I texted you three days ago, and instead of calling me back like a normal person, you left me on read.”
I shift on my feet. “I was busy.”
Jules’s eyes narrow. “Busy doing what? Pretending you’re still in . . . I can’t even remember where you were the last time we talked. It’s been months of you only sending texts and being vague. If I hadn’t seen you on the train a week or so ago, I wouldn’t even know you’re back.”
“Things are complicated,” I confess.
“Is this your way of saying, ‘Leif and I are dating, but I’m in denial?’” she asks, and maybe I should have grabbed onto that semi-truth.
Are we dating? Lightly. To save me some time, I move my purse from my belly to fetch my wallet and ask, “Why don’t I get you something to drink?”
“Oh my fucking God, are you pregnant, Hailey Jean?” she shrieks.
“Can you shout that louder? I don’t think they were able to listen to you in Alaska,” I huff.
“How far along are you?” she asks.
“Can we not do this now?”
She steps closer, voice dropping. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”
I blow out a breath. “It’s not like that.”
“Then explain what it is like, Hailey.” She glares at my little pouch as if it has done something to her—which, nope.
“I was going to tell you,” I interrupt, voice tight.
Jules gives me the look. The one that says,You’re full of shit.
I stare at the counter, suddenly feeling very small. “I just . . . wasn’t ready.”
Jules exhales sharply. “Hailey, do you even hear yourself? I’m your sister. We tell each other things. And you—” She pauses, her voice softening. “Leif knocked you up and you didn’t even tell me you two are together?”
The knot in my chest tightens. Oh my God, do I tell her everything? I’m not ready, but if I don’t tell her and it comes up later . . . this is Sophie’s choice, isn’t it?
“Does his family know that you two are expecting?” she asks.
My stomach flips. “What?”
