Beating For Two

Chapter 10

Tuesday, January 11th

Seventeen weeks and one day

“I'm sorry, but you – you – hung out with a jock?”

I swatted the back of Eleanor's head and then nodded. “Yes, I did, and please don't make me repeat it a fourth time, okay?”

She just looked down at me with wide eyes and a smile on her face. We were in her room, on her bed, my head was resting in her lap and a blanket was covering my body from my chest and down. I'd told her that I was cold, but of course it was just so that she wouldn't notice the slight swell on my stomach.

“Fine I won't,” she said, “But does this mean that you finally have someone to hang out with? Other than me, I mean.”

“Thanks for trying to raise my self-esteem,” I grumbled.

“I've tried that a million times and it doesn't work, so I'm done,” she said, rolling her eyes, “So is he a friend then?”

I shrugged half-heartedly, not quite sure what to say. No, he's not really a friend, he's just the guy whose baby I'm carrying and who I might or might not be crushing on. “I don't know,” I settled for.

“But you've hung out, right?”

I nodded.

“How many times?”

This conversation was getting more and more awkward by the minute. What was I supposed to answer to all of her questions? Me and Harry had only directly hung out two times, but there were also the visits to the doctor's office, but I couldn't really mention those to Eleanor, could I? I'd made a huge mistake when I told her about Harry – I realised that now, but unfortunately, it was a little too late to take it back.

“I- I don't know, three times maybe,” I replied after a few seconds of hesitation.

“Three times? Three bloody times?” she sad incredulously, “When were you going to tell me about this?”

“Sorry, sorry, it just slipped my mind I guess,” I said, attempting an apologetic smile.

“You've hung out with a jock three times and it slipped your mind?” she snorted, “Right. Now tell me the real reason why you haven't mentioned him before.”

“That is the real reason, I promise!”

“I don't- wait a second,” she said, the last part slowly and with her eyes narrowing, “Louis Tomlinson, is there something more going on between you and this guy?”

My cheeks flushed red, but I shook my head, needing to steer her away from this as fast as possible. “No, no, definitely not. He has a girlfriend and like I said, I don't even know if we're friends.”

The somewhat devious smile on her face slowly transformed into a soft one and she reached her hand out and started playing with my hair. “You like him, don't you?” she said.

I felt myself grow even warmer and I shook my head again, this time a little firmer. “No, I don't like him,” I said, sounding and looking just about as convincing as my three year-old cousin had the time she'd sworn up and down that it wasn't her who had eaten the rest of the brownies even though her face was covered in brown crumbles.

“Aw, you have a crush, how cute,” she cooed.

“El, please,” I groaned, “I don't have a crush, okay? He's just a guy, that's all.”

She shook her head and sighed. “You know I don't believe you, but okay, I'll stop nagging.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, “I don't think you're being honest, though. Everyone knows that you don't shut up until you have something stuffed in your mouth.”