21 locker room
I call Gray the next night. And the night after that. Part of me worries that this constant contact is some kind of crutch or weakness, but the rest of me says screw it. My life has been difficult enough lately. If it makes me feel better, I’m clinging to it.
And Gray really does make things better. It’s starting to feel like I’m getting to know him as a person, and while that wasn’t on my bingo card for senior year, I’m not mad about it.
Last night I found out that he and Dad didn’t even know each other in high school, because Gray’s a couple years younger, but they ended up in the same unit after they both enlisted, as some kind of fluke.
I’m sure Dad would regret all his choices if he knew the truth about me and Gray, but I appreciate it, at least.
I’ve just finished a grueling weights session with the team, and all I want to do is go the fuck home, shower, eat, and talk to Gray.
But today I stupidly agreed to meet Atlas for dinner. Which means I need to shower now, instead of sneaking out after practice and showering at home like I have been, to avoid suspicion.
I make sure I’m the last one to leave the weight room, and then I dick around at my locker, using any excuse I can to buy time. By the time I head into the shower, everyone else is getting dressed and starting to filter out.
It’s not a completely open communal shower room, thank god. Instead, it’s a row of shower heads on parallel walls, with flimsy little privacy curtains strung in between each one. I’ll be in and out, I tell myself. No one will see or smell me.
I get through the process of showering at lightning speed and I’m just reaching for my blocker spray when I hear footsteps, and then I hear our star pitcher and resident alphahole Bryce yell, “Hey, who’s been sneaking girls in here? I smell omega pussy.”
In a lifetime of dealing with my father, nothing has made my stomach drop as much as that collection of words.
For lack of a better option, I freeze. Maybe he’ll go away if I don’t draw attention to myself.
No such luck. Instead, I hear a couple of the other guys who were about to head out shouting back at him. I can’t really make out the words, but it must spur him on.
Bryce steps deeper into the bathroom, and I can hear how his feet move slowly on the tile, like he’s investigating.
My heart beats like a trapped rabbit. I want to at least reach for my towel, but I’m still trying not to make a sound.
“Who was the last one in here, anyway?” he calls back, and this time I hear it loud and clear when somebody else says “Tanner.”
Fuck.
A few seconds later, Bryce steps in front of me, and there’s no more hiding. I snatch my towel up immediately, throwing it around my waist to cover my junk, and try to affect a bored expression. I’m not sure if it works, though.
Bryce’s eyes are wide, and he doesn’t hide it when he scents the air.
He stares at me as I see the puzzle pieces fall into place. He’s not even making a joke. Somehow that manages to make the whole thing worse.
“What the fuck?” he whispers at last, just as the others follow him into the showers.
They’re all dressed and ready to leave, but they file in one after the other, following up on Bryce’s investigation. And one by one, their eyes widen when they see me.
I’m still frozen in place, trying to do a thousand micro-calculations about what’s about to happen and how I’m supposed to respond. I notice that while all of the guys look surprised, there’s a real variety of undertones to that surprise on their faces.
Bryce looks almost angry. The others have a sort of hunger, combined with that expression that tells me they’re about to start laughing, while Caleb, standing in the back, looks so sad.
Fuck this. I step forward, trying to rush past them and get to the freedom of the locker room, but Bryce stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Hold up, Dawson. What the fuck is going on. Why do you stink of omega?” he asks, although I can see that everyone is starting to realize what’s happening.
“I think it’s obvious why,” Alex says, making a show of scenting the air.
He looks me up and down, still nearly naked, and my skin crawls.
Bryce looks disgusted, though.
“Does Coach know about this? I’ve never heard of baseball team with a goddamn male omega on it. It doesn’t seem right.”
I jerk my shoulder out from where his hand is still sitting, and he looks at his hand like I might be contagious.
Tension sits between us, but then Alex—who always acts before he thinks and is always thinking about being an asshole—leans in and makes a big show of scenting me, his nose barely an inch from my neck.
It’s such a violation. I’ve never seen someone do that to someone they’re not fucking. Definitely not in public. I try to stand tall and not show any fear, but the crawling sensation in my gut tells me I’m in real danger here, for whatever reason.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a male omega up close like this,” Alex says, not hiding the purr in his voice. “Not what I expected. Although it does explain that face. You’ve always been too pretty to be a real man.”
As he speaks, he reaches out like he’s going to grab me by the chin, and I slap his hand away.
“Fuck off,” I snap, but they only laugh.
Out of everything that’s happened in the past minute and a half, the laughter is what makes my heart sink the most.
This is a game to them. It isn’t even an ethical conundrum, where they’re debating how much of a dick they should be. It’s just funny.
That’s how secure they are that whatever happens, they’ll come out on top.
I push through them, breaking past the little gathering, but this time it’s Alex who grabs my shoulder and tries to physically drag me back into the crowd, not showing any hesitation.
It throws me off balance, but I manage not to fall. He’s not giving up, though.
“You were not dismissed, omega. That’s not the kind of obedience that’s going to land you a good alpha,” he says, still laughing.
The others join in, except for Caleb.
Caleb’s face is completely still. He’s not joining in, but it’s hard to tell if that’s because he realizes this is wrong, or because he’s so disgusted with me he’s about to snap.
“Shut the fuck up, Alex,” he says, giving him a shove.
They all turn their attention to Caleb, but his face changes immediately, looking every inch like a bored jock.
“You’re just jealous the closest you’ll get to an omega-hole is when you microwave a cantaloupe.”
It’s normal banter, and the others laugh, breaking the tension and pulling their attention off me for a minute. Caleb has shimmied just a little to be in front of me, and without drawing attention to it, he pushes me slightly toward the exit.
It’s enough to snap me out of my trance.
I don’t run because my dad always told me a cat that runs is a cat that gets chased.
He was talking about cats and dogs at the time, but now I’m not so sure.
I’m almost ten feet away from them when I trip. It sends me sprawling on the ground, face first on the tile, and dislodges my towel so my bare ass is on display.
Again, I freeze. I want to get up, but this gut-deep fear has me rooted to the ground.
“Oh shit!” Someone says, all of them laughing. “I wasn’t expecting a peep show at practice today.”
“I didn’t know that’s what they looked like in real life,” someone—I think Bryce—says, and then I can practically feel the air shift as they all take a step towards me.
It’s enough to snap me out of it. I scrabble to stand up and fix the towel, taking long strides to my locker at the same time.
They follow, but slowly. Like a hyena pack that has nothing but time.
They’re all still cracking every male omega joke in the books, but Caleb breaks away from them and steps closer to me, although his voice is loud when he speaks to me.
“Hey man, can I get a ride to Alyssa’s? I need to give her a book, and my car is in the shop.”
It takes a second for the comment to sink in. I’d basically forgotten that Caleb is how I even know Alyssa in the first place because they never mention each other. And now that I know her better, I have no idea how they’re friends.
But it’s also clear that he’s offering me a way out. I nod, still too stressed to really speak, and get dressed faster than I’ve ever gotten dressed in my life.
Instead of bringing my stuff with me, I shove it all in the locker and close it so I can get out of here faster. I’ll come for my backpack later. I have my phone, my car keys, and Caleb as an escort, apparently.
He says goodbye to the guys like nothing unusual is happening, and then trails me as we both leave. Once we’re out of eyeline, the forced-normal expression on his face falls, and he looks grim.
Neither of us says anything. We just walk quickly to the parking lot, and as soon as we’re both inside the car, I start driving.
“Do you actually need a ride?” I ask him, a few minutes of silence later.
I can see him shrug out of the corner of my eye.
“I was going to give her this book back after my car was out, but it seemed like a good opportunity. I didn’t want to see that scene move into the parking lot. You know how those guys can be.”
We pull up at a red light, and I quickly tap out a message to Atlas, telling him to meet me at the apartment instead of out. I think I’ve had enough out for one day.
The light turns green, and I focus on driving, until Caleb speaks again.
“Does Coach know?” he asks.
I shake my head, and neither of us says anything else.
We both know what it means.
No one talks until we get back to the apartment. I get out of the car and Caleb follows me, looking completely chill as I lead him into the apartment.
“Caleb?” Alyssa says, looking up at us from her seat on the couch.
Caleb pats me on the shoulder in a way that’s supposed to be reassuring, probably, and then walks inside. He sits down next to Alyssa like he’s completely comfortable here, and begins to explain what happened in steady, measured words.
I don’t want to look at the sympathy on Alyssa’s face as she hears what happened. It makes me kind of nauseous.
But suddenly, like a curtain drops in my brain, I realize the thing that’s weird here.
“Holy shit,” I interject. “You’re related. I never noticed before because of all the makeup and shit, but you two look just as similar as me and Atlas, now that I notice it. What the fuck?”
They’re both giving me identical bored expressions, which cements it in my mind.
“Did you not know that?” Alyssa asks. “Why else would I ever hang out with a bunch of jocks?”
I shrug because this is upsetting my world dynamic more than it probably should.
“I don’t know, maybe you were hooking up?” I flounder.
Caleb makes a face at that, while Alyssa wrinkles her nose.
“No, Tanner. We’re twins. Of course, he’s the golden boy and I’m the embarrassment. You don’t have the only family with strong alpha genes.”
It totally makes sense, but I still feel kind of floored.
“Why don’t you both live in this apartment, then?” I ask.
Caleb shrugs. “Because I like living near the team, and I didn’t want to hear her complaining about stinking jocks traipsing through her space all the time?”
Something else occurs to me.
“So you…” I start, hesitating. “You know about me. You knew already.”
Another shrug, but this time he looks contrite.
“I promise Alyssa didn’t spill your secrets. But we do talk, and it wasn’t hard to put two and two together from context. I’m sorry, I thought it would be weird if I said something.”
“I really didn’t spill, Tanner,” Alyssa adds. “But Caleb has always been the only supportive person in my family. Twin bond trumps everything else, or whatever. He’s one of the good ones, like Atlas. He has your back.”
Speaking of Atlas, my phone buzzes and I glance down at the screen.
“Well, my brother is on his way with food, apparently.” I look at Caleb, trying to figure out where we go from here. “Do you want to stay and eat?”
“Sure,” he says, not making a big deal of it.
Slowly, bit by bit, that feeling of normal is creeping back into me. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it until this year, but now that it’s here, I really don’t want to let it go.
The consequences of being outed to the team are still looming. But I can’t control that. If they kick me out, there’s nothing I can do.
Right now, I’m just going to eat with my friends, and deal with the rest of it tomorrow.