Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Playing: Come Back to Earth by Mac Miller
Then I have an improv class. I’m definitely the kind of actor that can work both on the fly and with a script, but it uses up a lot of creative energy.
I can be humble and admit that I’m definitely not the best in the class because it takes me a little bit longer to think of something good.
And that’s okay but sometimes other students can be judgemental.
Especially other acting majors. I don’t know what it is about us actors, but we tend to be dramatic even off set.
I long for the days where I can do this as a job— legitimately—and work with people who are actually professional.
Maybe it’s because we’re still in college, but the attitude of my peers sometimes leave me feeling hopeless.
Will there always be snarky, back-stabbing, opportunistic people lurking in the background?
Why can’t we all just appreciate that there are other people like us who appreciate the same art that we love?
I guess that’s the difference between those who love the art of acting and those who love what acting can do for them.
I’m dragging on my feet by the time my final class lets out at 5 o’clock. If Stacia and I weren’t meeting up for dinner in the dining hall, I would go straight home to rot in my bed.
The campus is less crowded, the sun now overcast. It’s starting to get cold so I pull my hood up to protect my ears.
The thought of buying some nice winter gloves pops into my head as I see Stacia emerge from the nearest parking lot.
Her hair is braided on both sides with bright green hair-ties. It’s so her it makes me smile.
“Did Ciro drop you off?” I ask as soon as she makes it to me. We begin our walk down the campus sidewalk towards the dining hall.
“He has a lab tonight but the rest of the guys should be getting out of practice soon,” she replies. “Atlas said they would meet us there.”
I bite my lip and nod. Obviously, I like Stacia’s mates.
They’re probably some of the better alphas in the world.
But I really need to talk to my best friend about what happened with Jett.
I haven’t had the chance to talk to her one-on-one about it.
When I told her that Jett was my scent match, she was angry on my behalf but she was also trying to persuade me to think about things from his perspective.
My anger has diminished quite a bit, especially after what we did this weekend, but now in its place is guilt and shame .
My favorite blanket still smells of strong amber, both warm and spicy yet cold and forgotten.
“Jett stopped by this weekend,” I tell her, which nearly stops her in her tracks. We slow our pace a little as I continue talking. “He felt bad, wanted to explain himself, and I wasn’t really having any of it. I mean, I was still so angry .”
“Understandably so,” she replies. “It’s going to take some time for the sting to wear off. And he should definitely do some groveling. You don’t have to feel guilty for being angry or not wanting to smooth things over right away.”
Oh gosh, I wish that was the only thing I was feeling guilty about.
“Have you ever liked Jett?” Stacia asks cautiously.
I shrug. “I’ve always found him attractive, but he’s always been a little shit ever since we met.
Seriously, the first words he said to me were laced with such arrogance, like he was expecting me to fall at his feet.
I never really considered there to be anything else but annoyance there. But now…” I trail off.
“But now?” Stacia nudges me, wanting me to finish my thought.
I sigh. “Now, he feels like a different person. It’s like that cocky person I thought he was has disappeared.
Just vanished. Like he never existed to begin with.
It’s discombobulating. And that’s not just since I discovered we’re scent matches, that’s since we first started practicing lines together.
It’s like he’s… sweet . Attentive. Personable. It pisses me off.”
Stacia laughs at my finishing statement, which makes me feel less serious as I crack a smile too. “So… he stopped by this weekend,” she reiterates.
I fight it but I know I’m blushing hard.
The memory of what happened this weekend is scorched into my brain.
From the harsh words we said to each other, to the overwhelming desire, to me kicking him out in sheer panic.
There’s a rollercoaster of emotions connected to it and I can’t push them away.
They’re glued to me, plastered like putty.
“We fought and then we—” I cough, and then try again. “We may have…”
I can’t get the words out no matter how I try, but Stacia eyes widen even as I keep butchering the confession. “Did you guys have sex?!”
“Shush!” I slap her shoulder and then look around like Jett is hiding behind one of the smoke section benches.
“Oh my god!” she hisses. “Well… how was it? Was it good?”
I put my face in my hands even though I should be focusing on the sidewalk in front of me. “Please don’t make me answer that question.”
“Oh my god, it was!” Stacia’s grin takes over her entire face. “You guys had hot hate sex, that’s so on brand for you.”
The comment makes me chuckle. “Maybe I can excuse the temporary lapse of judgment on that.”
Then Stacia’s face morphs into something that looks like guilt, like she’s thinking intensely about something. Before I can ask her what’s up, she asks, “Did it change anything? About the situation.”
Her question is valid, and I wish I had a solid answer, but my omega and I are at odds when it comes to our scent match.
“You know I don’t want to bond an alpha. My mom…” I trail off, not wanting to elaborate. Luckily, I’m talking to Stacia, so I don’t have to.
Stacia’s lips flatten in a tight line. “I know, but this isn’t just any alpha, this is your scent match… one you obviously feel some kind of way about.”
“But it’s not fair that biology is dictating how I feel. Because if I had a choice , I would have beta scent matches.”
She sighs. “You persuaded me to go after my alphas. How is this any different?”
“Because you’ve always wanted alphas!” I say a bit defensively. “You’ve always wanted a pack, and you may have found a horrible alpha before, but I knew whoever you were scent matched to had to be some of the good ones because you’re the best person I know. You deserved your happy ending.”
Stacia gives me a particular look, one that I’ve given her before many times. It takes me aback so literally that I physically take a step back. “What?”
“So do you, Cranny. You also deserve your happy ending, too.”
We finally make it to the dining hall and walk in. My stomach grumbles and I’m about to walk towards the trays when I notice that Stacia’s face makes that same guilty expression. “What’s going on with your face? Why do you keep doing that?”
She grimaces and there’s a guilty glint in her eye. “There’s something I need to tell you but I don’t think it’s my place.”
Immediately, a rush of fear goes through my body. “Stacia, I swear to god if you don’t tell me I will scream. I can’t take one more secret that involves me.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” she says quickly with her hands up in front of her. “Let me just… figure out how to say this without it sounding like a prank.”
Before I can ask what she means, I hear a very familiar laugh bounce from across the room.
It tickles the edge of my brain, reminding me of leftover pizza and dark cherries.
I look without thinking, like my omega wants even the tiniest glimpse of the blond alpha with the bigger-than-life personality, but what I see makes me freeze.
Across the dining hall, Dax is laughing heartily, his joy palpable.
But that’s not what makes me pause. It’s who else is at the table.
First Everett, which is obvious, who is suppressing his laughter and instead adorns a beautiful smile.
But then I see the third person. His hair is long and dark, his leather jacket familiar even from here.
Then he turns to the side, laugher falling freely from his lips.
I see his profile, the same nose and rigid jawline that I saw only days ago at my house.
Jett’s happiness shines bright as he sits with Everett and Dax so casually in the center of the hall.
The image of them together stuns me. I let out a ghastly shriek, and then put a fist into Stacia’s shirt so I can pull her behind a wall.
My best friend lets out a surprised squeal as we round the wall. “What’s happening? What are you doing?” She pulls her shirt free, and looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Are we hiding?”
I shush her like the alphas can hear us from behind this wall and trashcan. The smell of today’s macaroni salad makes me feel nauseous.
“I just saw Jett sitting with Dax and Everett. They were all laughing!” I whisper-yell, feeling completely scandalized. But instead of responding with the same dramatics, Stacia’s face morphs back into that same guilty look.
“Did you know anything about this?” I ask, hoping it’s rhetorical.
Stacia’s eyebrows furrow. “Well…”
“What!” I hit the wall with my palm and wince when I hit it harder than I thought I would. “Stacia, seriously? What is going on?”
“Well…” she starts and then she huffs out a frustrated breath. “Okay, do you remember when you took Pack Dynamics 101 freshman year?”
I raise an incredulous eyebrow.
“Okay, so… sometimes it takes a while for the pack bond to click in. Like with Kendall and Atlas for example, they knew th ey were going to be pack their whole lives but the bond didn’t settle in until they met Ciro and Uriah…”
“Stacia, you’re confusing me. Please get to the point.”
So she blurts it out. “Everett and Dax’s pack bond finally clicked in and they found their last pack mate.”