Unlikely (Knotty Neighbors #2)

1. Bella Rose

Chapter 1

Bella Rose

Age 16

T he door to my aunt’s kitchen swings open, and Marigold’s gaze narrows in on me. She's so quick I don’t process what she’s doing until it’s too late.

“I was eating that,” I say, annoyed. But come on! She snatched my slice of Grandma Lily’s salted caramel cheesecake, which had been the best thing to happen to me all day, hands down.

“Obviously. And you don’t need it.” Marigold tosses the plate into the trash can before crossing her arms and glaring at me. “Why are you so weird now? It’s like you don’t even care anymore.”

Despite the acidic scent of her anger in the air, she still looks like the picture of a perfect omega. She’s beautiful in her sleek pink party dress, a glittering crown nestled at the top of her golden curls.

I hardly recognize the girl who was my best friend for most of my life. My cousin has become a stranger in the last two years since she perfumed and was officially designated an omega.

Eighth grade was the great social divider, sorting the world into neat little boxes. The pretty ones and the ugly ones. Popular and unpopular. Alphas, omegas, and betas— and me . At first, the divide between us was gradual, but as Marigold’s popularity swelled, I fell further and further behind.

I want to hate her for leaving me. Sometimes I do. I’m jealous, and the feeling squirms and snaps in my stomach, causing embarrassment and shame to bubble up. More than anything, I want to erase the last two years and make the world make sense again.

How did I become the only one in my family in a long line of omegas to be classified as a late bloomer?

I have the normal omega traits and features, like an enlarged scent-gland and heightened sensitivity to scents, fabrics, light, and sounds. But my body doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to perfume. How is that fair? The wait has been brutal. My parents’ outcry over the school’s suggestion to track me as “undesignated” is the only thing saving me from being tossed into the general studies track with the betas. Betas get a class or two on secondary genders and packs, but the alphas and omegas are enrolled in special course tracks for their designations.

Imagine if they lumped me with the beta girls and I missed out on everything I need to know…

But no matter how much my mother and Aunt Aster try to force Marigold to include me, I don’t fit into her world. Not anymore. Maybe not ever if my perfume doesn’t come in. After this year, the odds of me presenting drop to almost nothing. I don’t like to think about it.

Happy sweet sixteen to me.

I bite the inside of my lip to keep from screaming or crying. It’s a toss-up.

“No. None of that. I get that it’s probably hard or whatever, but you’re not making this easy on yourself.” Marigold yanks on my elbow, dragging me toward the back door and the joint sweet sixteen party our family is throwing us outside.“Bella, you can’t keep eating your feelings and hiding.”

For such a tiny human, my cousin has the presence of a bull. I stumble out of her hold, wobbling on these towers of death my mother insisted I wear. I’m not used to how tight these heels squeeze my toes.

Using the hallway wall to right myself, I turn on my cousin. “What the fuck, Mari?”

She steps into my space, her sharp, manicured finger pointed at me. “You’ve been having a pity party for two years. It’s time. I want my friend back. Don’t you want it to be like it used to be?”

Yes, desperately.

I roll my eyes, refusing to show her exactly how desperate I am. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, drawing out the last word. “I didn’t realize my late presentation was an inconvenience for you. If it’s bothering you, I’ll just make sure my perfume comes in tonight.”

Her eyes water, her scent turning from the sharp slap of anger to the overly bitter tang of sadness. “Don’t joke about this. I’m serious. I have a plan.” She bats at her eye, smudging her liner. “Omega hormones are the worst,” she mumbles, blowing out a long breath.

I wouldn’t know—those only come in after perfuming—but even I can’t deny that I have the urge to comfort the unsettled omega and apologize for her tears. I’d rather eat glass, but the urge is there. Instead, I turn away from her and head back toward the kitchen, where I can hide out in peace.

Marigold grabs my arm, turning me in a huff of pink tulle. “No. No more hiding. You’re coming with me tonight.”

I give her my best not-on-your-life stare.

“Come on, Bella. It’s our sixteenth birthday! We dreamed about this. You and me, remember?” She holds up her palm, throwing our matching scars in my face.

We gave each other the marks at a sleepover one night at our grandma’s house. It was stupidity, sewing needles, and an overly romantic notion of becoming blood sisters.

“Low blow, Mari.” It doesn’t stop me from rubbing my fingertips against the small, raised mark on my palm.

A burst of anger surges through me. I’m not the one who forgot our pact to do everything together. She is.

Marigold pleads, “I’m being so for real right now! Some of the senior girls from the cheer squad are throwing us a party after this! I think if you wear something flattering, maybe dance with an alpha…”

“When you put it like that, the answer is still no.” I decide she’ll keep hounding me unless I find a buffer, so I sidestep her, heading toward the party.

She calls, “Our moms won’t let me go if you don’t.”

There it is. The real reason for the theatrical trip down memory lane.

“Sounds like a personal problem,” I toss over my shoulder.

* * *

Marigold’s friend Lindsey pulls up to the curb and honks twice, yelling through the window. “Get in, bitches.”

I blame peer pressure and maternal guilt for the fact that I fold myself into the backseat of the omega’s bright-blue Mustang. Marigold threw a crying fest, blabbing to the mothers about how I was ruining her special day and how unfair it was that she couldn’t go to her own party. I had to agree or never hear the end of it. I caved and chose peace. I can hide at this sweet sixteen party just as easily as I did at the one I’m leaving. I’ve basically mastered the art of being invisible.

The only snag in this plan may be the showy outfit my cousin wrangled me into. My boobs practically fall out of the low-cut black bodysuit, and I hike up the fabric, trying to stuff them back inside. I may not have perfumed, but my curves have come in. Too much. I’m too tall and at least two sizes bigger than my cousin, so the snaps pull so tight on my crotch I practically lose my virginity.

Why is this my life?

In the front seat, the two friends chat about all the alphas coming to the party, and my ears perk up at the mention of Dane Daniels. They shouldn’t. He’s a senior and the alpha everyone wants. That puts him so far out of my reach I would need oxygen just to have a conversation with him. But I can’t help the way my pulse speeds at his name.

Dane Daniels is heart-stopping, belly-swirling beautiful. He’s the kind of alpha that requires a person to use both his first and last name just to get the scope of how large and magnetic his presence is. He’s the winningest quarterback in Knotty Pines High history—and our hometown lives and breathes football. He’s brought the team to three state titles in the last four years and is signed to play at LU next year.

Totally out of my league.

That doesn’t stop me from being fascinated with him or leaning in to hear more.

“You’re never going to believe what I heard.” Lindsey makes this shrill squealing sound as she taps the steering wheel. “Tasha told me that Jamie told her that Dane caught Jen making out with the Steward brothers at the bonfire last night.”

Marigold gasps. “Shut up. She did not! I can’t believe I missed it! I thought Dane was taking Jen to prom and they were getting serious.”

“Not anymore,” Lindsey says smugly, her thick dark hair whipping around her shoulders.

She brakes so hard at the stop sign I go flying into the back of Marigold’s seat, practically giving myself a concussion on the headrest.

The two omegas squawk like a flock of birds, vibrating with energy as they do a victory dance. Their excitement clouds the car with the scent of their flowery perfume. It's so thick it makes me cough as it washes over me. I rub my forehead and sink back into the leather, staring out the window as she turns onto the old highway toward the big lake houses on the outskirts of Knotty Pines.

I stopped following most of the drama in our small town a long time ago; unless it’s football related, I probably don’t know it. They continue to animatedly hatch plans for winning over the senior alphas. Still, for some reason, I can’t keep myself from thinking about Dane Daniels and wondering what he's like off the field.

* * *

Lindsey digs around in her purse and passes me a tube of shiny lip gloss. “Reapply, but Mari did you a solid. The smokey eye is hot, and your tits look amazing.”

“Right?” Marigold beams, reaching out to fluff my hair. “Isn’t Bella pretty when she tries?”

I bat her hand away and duck around the two of them. “I try,” I argue halfheartedly.

It’s a lie. I may be pissed at life and my cousin, but she isn’t wrong about the fact that I’ve lost my spark over the last two years. The makeup Marigold applied is way more than I usually wear, and I’ve taken to hiding in oversized sweatshirts and yoga pants no matter the occasion. Despite feeling a little like a girl playing dress-up, even in jeans, I can’t deny that Marigold’s makeover paints a drastic impression.

The jeans are way too snug, drawing attention to my middle. The top is too boobylicious. But do I look goodish? Maybe. I’m too uncomfortable to be objective. I want to hide, even if I can’t quite extinguish that small kernel inside that wishes I could have a good time tonight, that maybe my perfume will finally come in.

Marigold tugs me toward the giant glowing lake house on the wide, sloping lawn. The party has already spilled outside, groups vaping and drinking on the gravel drive and up the stone steps. A blaring beat pumps from speakers somewhere, and shouted splashes ring out from the back where people are swimming in the lake.

“We’re going to get drinks. It’ll loosen you up. Then everyone will remember how fun you are. You’ll see,” my cousin promises.

“Yesssss! A glow-up!” Lindsey gives a little cheer, complete with some kind of arm pump. “Stick with us. We’ve got plans for you!”

I brace myself and let the two omegas pull me inside. It’s chaos. I’m pretty sure the majority of my high school is crammed inside this house, and even if it’s giant, it isn’t big enough. Marigold latches onto my arm, and Lindsey scoots behind us, caging me in.

“Kitchen for drinks first, then outside!” Lindsey shouts over my shoulder.

We weave through the bodies, and the scents are nearly overwhelming as people stop us every few feet to wish Marigold a sweet sixteen. They eye me curiously, as though they can’t quite place me. It makes me feel like a bug under a microscope, and my heart races. The urge to hide flares inside me, and I wrap my arms around myself awkwardly, wishing I were anywhere but here.

Marigold turns on me. “This is it. This is your chance to reintroduce yourself. Find an alpha, dance with—” The grimace I give cuts her off, her bright expression faltering and her floral scent souring. “Try, okay?”

I swallow around the shame in my throat and put as much snark into my voice as I can. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”

“Great! If the sob fest is over, let’s celebrate already.” Lindsey nudges the two of us, and Marigold lets it be.

The moment we enter the kitchen, my dread intensifies as my cousin’s core friend group descends like locusts.

I gawk, horrified and fascinated, as the Dane Daniels parts the crowd with his gruff “Happy birthday.” He looks right at me, a smile on his handsome face, and for a moment, I think he’s talking to me. But then Marigold dips her head and says, "Thank you," before jumping up to kiss the alpha on the cheek.

Cheers and whistles travel around the room as people hand Marigold and Lindsey shots, clapping when they toss back the glasses.

I take one last look before slipping out of the kitchen. I nudge through the throngs of people and between couples making out on the stairs, climbing away from the center of the madness. The first door I try is locked. The second is a bathroom where I spot a girl on her knees, giving some alpha head. I keep going until I stumble upon an empty bedroom.

The window is open, and a slight spring breeze ruffles the curtains. The sounds of the party waft in with the fresh air, but up here in this empty room, the party seems far away. I duck my head out the window and realize there’s a ledge big enough for me to climb on.

I strap down my wayward tits with my arm and fold myself through the window, trying not to let my clumsiness end in my death. At least I insisted on borrowing sneakers instead of wearing those awful heels. It would be just my luck to tumble and embarrass myself in front of the whole school.

The moment I step onto the ledge, a deep voice calls, “Boo!” and I scream.