Chapter 406 | Eighteen Years Minimum

Chapter 406: 406 | Eighteen Years Minimum

Jordan ordered eggs and bacon because Chloe had made him promise to eat real food instead of just carbs and Red Bull. Kyle got french toast and looked like he was reconsidering every decision that had led to this moment.

When Sandra left, Leo leaned forward. "So what’s the plan? Like, actual plan. Are you staying in school? Is she staying in school? Where are you living? What happens in September when there’s a whole baby?"

"Staying in school. She’s staying in school. We’re living in my apartment at Cooper Garment. September, we’ll have a baby."

"That’s not a plan," Kyle said. "That’s a description of events."

"Plans are overrated."

"Plans are how you don’t end up on a daytime TV show about teen parents."

Jordan’s phone buzzed. Kumiko again, this time a photo of her holding Detective Blueberry and a stuffed dragon, both positioned like they were having a conference. The caption read explaining to blueberry that he’s going to be a big brother. he’s taking it well.

He showed them the phone.

Leo made a noise like a small animal dying. "She’s already telling stuffed animals. Jordan. This is real. You’re going to have a kid and Kumiko’s already recruited a plush investigator as childcare."

"I know."

"Do you?" Kyle’s voice went quiet. "Because you’re sitting here drinking coffee at IHOP like we’re talking about your weekend plans, and we’re talking about you being responsible for another human life for eighteen years minimum."

Jordan set his coffee down. "I watched my ex-girlfriend walk into a love hotel with another guy on Christmas. I spent two weeks on my floor eating garbage and gooning until I couldn’t feel my own face. Then I got a second chance I didn’t deserve and I met a girl who saw me at my worst and decided I was worth keeping anyway." He looked at both of them. "I know I’m eighteen. I know this is insane. I know every single person is going to tell me I’m too young and too stupid and too broke. But Chloe’s keeping this baby, and I’m keeping Chloe, which means I’m keeping this baby, and I don’t need a five-year plan to know that."

Silence.

Then Leo said, "That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard and I hate that it’s about an accidental pregnancy."

"It wasn’t accidental."

Both of them froze.

"She planned it?" Kyle asked.

"She made a decision. There’s a difference."

"Is there?"

Jordan’s phone buzzed again. Chloe, this time.

stop defending me to your friends. they’re allowed to think we’re crazy.

we are crazy.

come home when you’re done. I’m making eggs.

Sandra returned with three stupid stacks of pancakes. The plates hit the table with a thud that suggested IHOP had given up on portion control and embraced chaos. Each stack was six pancakes tall, swimming in butter, drowning in syrup.

"Enjoy," she said, in the voice of someone who’d seen this movie before and knew how it ended.

Leo grabbed his fork. "To Jordan. Father-to-be. Owner of the world’s most complicated relationship structure. The guy who posted a thirst trap in mouse ears and broke Instagram."

"To Jordan," Kyle echoed, raising his coffee cup. "Who’s going to figure this out because he doesn’t have another choice."

They ate pancakes in silence for approximately ninety seconds before Leo’s mouth started running again.

"So does Maya know?"

Jordan nearly choked on a bite of eggs. "What?"

"Does Maya know you’re going to be a dad? Because if she doesn’t, that’s going to be a fun conversation. ’Hey, remember that bite mark you noticed? Yeah, that’s from one of my two girlfriends, and the other one’s pregnant, and we’re all cool with it, so don’t worry about the complicated interpersonal dynamics while you’re teaching me how to box.’"

"I’m not telling Maya."

"Why not?"

"Because it’s not her business."

"It becomes her business when you show up at six in the morning running on four hours of sleep because you were up with a crying baby."

"The baby’s not here yet."

"But it will be!" Leo gestured with his fork, flinging a small piece of pancake across the booth. "In September! That’s seven months! You think you’re going to hide a whole baby from a woman who notices when your hip’s off?"

Kyle cut his french toast with surgical precision. "He’s right. You’re going to have to tell her eventually. Might as well tell her now before she figures it out herself and decides you were lying by omission."

Jordan ate his bacon. His phone sat on the table, screen dark, containing messages from three girls who’d already rearranged his life and one ex-girlfriend who was currently at fifty-eight percent and climbing. In nineteen days he’d walk into a library with Eliza Hartwell and finish a quest that promised enough money to cover diapers and formula and all the other expensive things babies required just to exist.

He hadn’t told Kyle and Leo about that part. Couldn’t tell them. How do you explain that you’re monetizing emotional manipulation through a magical phone app? How do you tell your best friends that you’re about to make a hundred and fifty thousand dollars by making your ex-girlfriend fall for you just so you can walk away?

You don’t. You eat pancakes and deflect and hope they never ask the right questions.

"I’ll tell Maya when it matters," Jordan said. "Right now it doesn’t matter."

"It matters," Kyle said.

"It will matter," Leo corrected. "Big difference."

They finished breakfast in the kind of comfortable silence that only happened between guys who’d known each other long enough to skip the performance. Jordan’s phone stayed dark. His coffee went cold. The stupid stack of pancakes slowly disappeared into three stomachs that were going to regret this decision by noon.

When Sandra came back with the check, Leo grabbed it before anyone could argue. "I got it. Consider it a baby shower gift six months early."

"Baby showers are for the mom," Kyle said.

"Then consider it a congratulations-on-not-running-away gift."

Jordan’s phone buzzed one more time. He checked it under the table.

Alexis.

you’re ignoring me.

He didn’t respond. Put the phone back in his pocket. Followed Kyle and Leo out of the IHOP into February sunlight that felt too bright after the dim cave of breakfast conversation.

"You good?" Kyle asked, unlocking his car.

"Yeah."

"You’re lying."

"Yeah."

They drove back to campus in silence. Jordan watched the buildings slide past, students walking to class with backpacks and coffee cups and the kind of uncomplicated lives where the biggest problem was a midterm or a roommate who didn’t do dishes.

He used to be that. Three months ago, he was that.

Now he was this, whatever this was.

The car stopped outside Cooper Garment Lofts. Kyle turned in his seat. "We’re here if you need us. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"I mean it. Baby stuff, dad stuff, whatever. We’re here."

"I know," Jordan said again.