15 maybe i can’t
“So, your dad just let you go?” Alyssa asks, one of my bags hoisted over her shoulder as she leads me into her apartment. “I thought he was a controlling piece of shit?”
I shake my head, even though she’s walking in front of me and can’t see.
“He’s not that bad,” I say. “He’s old-fashioned and has some shitty opinions, but at least he cares. He’s doing what he thinks is in my best interest. It’s just that he doesn’t really understand this stuff. His road trip got extended, and after I took some time to think about it,
I realized it would be easier if I was gone before he got back. It’s almost the start of the semester, anyway. I’ll think of some excuse for why I left early. Some baseball-related crisis they needed their most mid player to solve.”
She drops my bag in the hallway as soon as we get inside and turns around to look at me, her arms crossed over her chest. I’m pushing out a smile at my own joke, but it has absolutely no impact on her expression.
Her scent intensifies. Not angry, but strong.
I was always aware she smelled like an alpha before, but this new level of sensitivity keeps blowing my mind.
The complexity of how you can pick up on someone’s mood and thoughts is like an underbelly to reality that I’m only beginning to get a glimpse of.
“I’m glad you called me. I know we’ve never been super tight, but I understand a little of what you’re going through. You deserve to be somewhere safe, not trapped at home with an intolerant dick.”
I open my mouth to object again, but then I remember what an extreme favor she’s doing me right now, and shut it.
I was desperate when I thought about who might be at school right now and be willing to let me crash.
Alyssa is only a friend of my teammate, not someone I’m close with, but it made sense that if anyone might understand what this is like, a female alpha would.
They get almost as much stigma as we do.
Both are “unnatural”, according to people like my dad.
Although he also fundamentally respects strength and dominance, so a truly strong female alpha can maybe earn his begrudging respect.
Because at least she has the traits that really matter—not bending over.
That’s all it really comes down to. In my dad’s mind, at least.
“Thanks, Alyssa. I appreciate it. My housing will open in a couple of weeks and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
I don’t let myself think about what it’s going to be like going back to a dorm full of athletes.
It’s not like the teams are exclusively alphas…
But athletes are always going to be disproportionately alpha because of their size and strength advantages.
Which means the vibe reflects that. I was limping along in baseball already, doing just well enough to keep my scholarship and have the illusion of some friends, but this is going to make everything so much worse. The smell alone…
I file that away as a “later problem” and try to tune back into whatever Alyssa is saying.
“No problem. Like I said, my parents pay for this place as an excuse to keep their shameful alpha freak daughter away from home as much as possible. It’s a win-win, because I don’t want to be around all those judgey people, either.”
She stares at me, and I try to picture her in Ashfall and the looks she’d get.
She’s taller than average, as you’d expect, with a sort of hourglass figure that she accentuates by wearing a lot of corsets and floor-length black gowns.
Her hair is dyed black to make it contrast with her pale skin, and her makeup matches.
I don’t know the right words to describe it, except goth.
She looks phenomenal, but she definitely doesn’t blend in.
The looks she’d get in Ashfall—even without the female alpha stigma—would be relentless and demeaning.
Yeah. If her hometown is anything like mine, staying away makes the most sense.
Her whole stance softens, losing a little of that alpha-confidence.
“Like I said, Tanner. I get it.”
My stupid eyes start to well with tears again, because this is my life now, apparently. Fucked-up hormones that make me feel like I’m losing my mind most of the time.
I don’t want her to see, so I follow an impulse and wrap my arms around her in a hug instead.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
She stiffens for a second, then hugs me back, and her scent immediately takes on that soothing quality that I think they all do instinctively.
“Of course,” she says, petting my back delicately.
For a moment, I feel peaceful. Then my body realizes I’m enveloped in her scent, and something inside me shifts.
It’s not straight-up arousal. She’s a beautiful girl, but I’ve never been attracted to her.
I told myself it was because she was an alpha, so I wasn’t meant to be, which obviously isn’t true.
I don’t have the energy to get to the bottom of that nightmare thought right now.
Either way, that lack of attraction hasn’t changed; this is more of a vague biological urge.
Nothing like the way I feel around Gray, I realize with a start.
It’s not all alphas, apparently. Because being anywhere near him makes me feel like my entire body is on fire, while this is only a low thrum.
I don’t know what that means. I’m not truly attracted to Gray either, right?
That’s what I’ve been telling myself, at least.
It’s normal to be impressed by someone like him.
The way he looks is impressive. His dick is unreal.
Anyone would stare. That’s not the same thing as attraction.
That combines with my crazy new hormones to make me feel like I want him, but it’s all surface deep.
I’ve never been genuinely attracted to a man. I couldn’t.
When my scent becomes a little sweeter, I can sense hers almost thickening in return. The change is sudden, and we both jerk apart at the same moment.
Alyssa’s eyes are wide, but her face tells me she’s equally unimpressed by her body’s reaction. She holds up her hands between us.
“Maybe we need to be careful to keep a little distance between us, though. I can be here for you over here. Especially while you smell all fucked up like that.”
Alyssa is standing a few feet away from me now but leans back in to scent the air. It would be rude under most circumstances to scent so obviously, but I guess we’re past most boundaries now.
“Actually, Tanner, what the fuck is that?” she asks. “I have pretty good control and try not to scent everyone around me like an animal, but now that I notice… what the hell?”
“What do you mean?”
Sure, play dumb. That’ll totally work.
When her hands go to her hips and her eyebrows lift, I know it has definitely not worked.
“I’m not an idiot, Tanner. I know what a normal omega smells like, and this isn’t it. There’s something artificial there. And all the normal parts are still all over the place.”
I can’t help it. I turn my head and try to scent myself without thinking, even though I still just smell like myself, without any of the details she seems to be picking up.
Alyssa softens when she sees me looking confused.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there. Figuring out your new sense of smell takes practice, and it’s even harder on yourself. I’m lucky I presented so early, to be honest. It gave me a chance to figure my shit out before I was hurled into the world.”
There’s a long pause while I try to figure out how to explain what happened, but in the end, my bone-deep exhaustion wins out.
“Can we talk about it later, please? I’ll explain, I promise. I’m just so tired.”
Alyssa frowns, but there’s more sympathy there than I’ve ever seen on her face before.
“Yeah, of course,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to. This isn’t a quid pro quo situation. But I would like to hear more about what’s been going on, in case I can help. You need to be serious about letting yourself rest, man.
Your body has a lot of work to do; crossing the forbidden gender barrier and all that. I highly recommend sleeping through as much of this transformation as you can. But maybe we can talk about it later.”
Again, a swell of that stupid, overwrought emotion builds inside me, and I have to shove it down.
If there’s one thing I miss the most from before—apart from Dad’s respect, or at least absence of disgust—it’s not constantly feeling like I’m a stiff breeze from either weeping or humping someone’s leg 24 hours a day.
“Yeah,” I say, my throat tight as I nod. “Thanks.”
I’m going to deal with absolutely every little bit of this conversation later.
Alyssa really does drop it, thank the gods.
“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
A misogynistic twatwaffle.
That’s what Alyssa had called my dad during our dinner conversation. She’d actually said it so many times that the words are starting to sound normal to me. It’s not wrong, per se. It’s just not the kind of thing I’ve ever let myself think so explicitly.
I’d finally worked myself up to telling her the whole suppressants story—because I could tell she was dying to know—while we shared some take out. And the second I started talking, she got angry.
At least it was angry on my behalf, not angry at me. That was a refreshing change of pace.
She’d rambled on about how dangerous it was, repeating a lot of the same things that the clinic doctor had said, before segueing into a torrent of cusswords describing what she thought of my dad and what she’d like to do with him.
I was shocked at first, but by the end I was honestly a little touched.
I barely know her, and she still cares about me in this vivid, tangible way. It’s nice.
I assured her I was fine, but she didn’t seem convinced. Something about my smell is still bothering her. Either way, we finally called it a night after she took my face in her hands and promised I could stay here as long as I needed. It felt like a moment from a mafia movie.
I probably should have been scared. Instead, I managed to shower and unpack my sad bag of stuff before crawling into her guest bed feeling relatively okay.
It’s difficult to describe how I feel right now. Not good. Not really. But like… like there’s an absence of something terrible. I don’t feel haunted or tensed for the next terrible thing to come crashing down around my shoulders any minute.
If this is how most people are walking around every day, then they can’t complain about shit. I’d kill for this to be my new state of being. Just… calm.
Of course, I should have known better. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach for it. A teeny tiny part of myself that I don’t want to consciously acknowledge hopes it’s Gray.
I’ve been keeping up with our still alive text exchange in the morning.
And I know he appreciates it, because he always heart reacts within thirty seconds, like he was waiting for it.
But he doesn’t push for more, which I appreciate.
Right now, in this quiet moment, I wish he would, though.
Which is stupid, because he’s no one to me.
He’s my dad’s friend. He’s some old guy I barely know.
It’s also stupid, because it was never going to happen. This bubble of calm wasn’t meant to last.
Dad
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU
Every muscle in my body clenches, and I can feel my blood whooshing through my veins so fast my whole body tingles. It’s a good thing I’m lying down, because I know this would hit like a shot of liquor if I were standing.
My thumb hovers over the screen. I should tell him something. Just so he doesn’t worry.
But anything I tell him will also give him more clues to where I am, which isn’t that hard to figure out in the first place. If he tries to track me down and drag me home, I don’t want to help him.
I take a slow breath through my teeth and blow it out in an attempt to steady myself.
I can do this. I’m an adult.
Before I have the chance to overthink it, I turn off my phone. Not do not disturb, fucking off. A part of me wishes I could take out the SIM card and throw it in the microwave like in an old spy movie. Off will have to do.
Goodbye, Dad. I’ll come home, eventually. I just need a minute.
I hope.