BAY #5
I just give him a neutral look and don’t say anything. Dropping into the chair, I toss my backpack to the floor and pull out my tablet. That’s when I realize something strange, there’s no pain when I sit, which is weird. And it should be, the chair is hard as hell.
The ‘Sneezy’ kid keeps watching me.
Since I’m not the type to get awkward about it, I slowly turn my head and meet his eyes. He’s seriously tiny, so he appears younger than the rest of the class, though I doubt he actually is.
His wavy hair hides most of his forehead and cheeks. I can only see a small nose and full pink lips, slightly parted by the glint of braces. But there’s something about him that catches me off guard: his eyes.
The color is a rare, deep amethyst hue, glowing with a kind of mesmerizing intensity. I’ve never seen that shade before. My brother Snow’s eyes are light violet, cooler in tone, and this boy’s are richer, almost jewel-like, a crystallized purple light.
I know I can stare too hard sometimes, so eventually, I force myself to look away, but the boy doesn’t seem bothered. He keeps sneaking glances at me too.
Suddenly he says, "I’m Alex Strada. You?" His voice is pleasant, and it confirms what I thought before. Alex is smaller than the others, but not younger. His voice has gone through the change already, carrying a pleasant tenor tone with a slightly husky edge, no childish squeaky notes.
"Bay Nolan."
I don’t add anything else. The silence between us stretches, but I don’t care. I’m not in the mood for small talk, even though some part of me feels an odd curiosity about him.
Of course, it’s not romantic. That kind of thing is the last thing on my mind. After what happened to me, it’s buried even deeper.
But his look… there’s something fascinating about it.
His hair color is hard to describe, strawberry blond, but that ‘strawberry’ part feels literal.
There’s a pearl-pink shimmer to it, like he might have dyed it.
Yet when I glance at his eyebrows, they’re dark brown with a faint reddish hue, as if that tint exists innately in his skin, coloring his lashes and hair. Maybe it really is natural.
It’s interesting because my brother Storm has burgundy hair too, and people always comment on the shade.
Combined with those amethyst eyes, the whole effect is striking. Alex’s huge eyes are framed by long lashes, glinting through the lenses of his glasses.
The fuck. What is it about him? I can’t stop looking. I try to fight it, to force my neck not to turn his way, but it keeps happening on its own, like some reflex I can’t control.
The problem with Alex is that his bangs and the waves falling across his cheeks make it hard to really see him. But if you’re patient enough, if you study him closely, you realize what’s hidden under that messy hair.
He’s… beautiful!
His face is delicate, almost porcelain, with soft features, long lashes, and full lips that look too sensual for a teenage boy. It pisses me off that I even notice. It doesn’t mean anything, it can’t mean anything, I’m damaged goods. But still, objectively, I can’t deny what I see.
Yet, I have to admit, Alex has done a decent job hiding his looks behind that curtain of hair, those huge glasses weighing down his face, and the braces that distract from it all. At a glance, anyone would think he’s just some awkward nerd.
There are a few red patches on his cheeks that look like eczema. Someone giving him only a quick look would probably see that first. But I’ve really studied him now, and he’s… the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen.
Yep. So here’s that. Two days after being brutally assaulted, after my life’s turned into a nightmare and I’m barely holding myself together, I meet an omega who feels like perfection, the exact type I didn’t even know I had.
Another cruel twist of Fate, torturing me with things now out of my reach?
Teasing me with his unattainable beauty?
I grip my hands so tightly that my nails dig into my palms, trying to suppress the insane urge to stare at him again. I don’t understand this obsession.
It’s twisted. It’s wrong. It’s impossible.
So every time I feel the pull, I grab my stylus and press it sharply into my palm until it hurts.
Mr. Rivera walks into the classroom. At first, he doesn’t notice me, but when he sits behind his desk, he lowers his glasses and looks up.
"Bay Nolan? You weren’t here yesterday?"
"Yeah, I dropped off an excuse at the main office. I was sick."
He nods. "No worries, you didn’t miss much. The syllabus for this semester is on PowerSchool, check it when you can. I’ve got a printed copy somewhere here…" He rummages through his folder and pulls out a sheet. I get up, take it from him, and go back to my seat.
That’s when I realize it again, the pain’s gone. Completely. Not a trace left. Huh. Unexpected, but definitely good. Maybe it’ll help me forget, push the memories a little further down? Even a moment of relief feels like a blessing.
When I sit back down, I notice Alex watching me. Closely. He doesn’t seem particularly secretive about it, unlike me, who is fighting hard not to look at him openly again.
It’s amazing how tiny he is. Even sitting down, I can tell he can’t be taller than four foot eleven. I’m five eleven, so I tower over him by a whole foot, and that’s not even the end of it. My father’s six foot eight, so I’ve still got years of growing ahead.
During class, Alex sneezes several times, some quiet, some loud enough to make a few kids glance over with irritation. A couple of them snicker.
When Mr. Rivera steps out near the end of class, Alex suddenly turns to me.
"What do you have next?"
For some reason, the question flusters me. I’m not exactly the timid type, never have been, but heat creeps up my neck anyway.
I pull out the schedule the main office gave me and silently hand it to him.
His small hand, dotted with eczema, takes the paper. He studies it with a thoughtful pout that makes his lips look even softer.
"I see. You’ve got World History next, then Science, and after that… it looks like we’ve got the same schedule until electives."
He pauses.
"Oh wow, all music classes, choir, band, music theory, vocal, jazz. You play?"
I nod.
"What instruments?"
Sweet Fate, even his voice is soothing. The way he talks makes me want him to keep going, to tell me more. And one thing is certain: I don’t want to talk about myself. Still, I force out a reply.
"Cello, guitar, piano, bass, and drums."
"Oh, holy crap! Wow!" Alex almost jumps in his seat, his eyes sparkling as he asks excitedly, "You’re, like, an actual musician? For real?"
I nod again. A big chunk of my childhood was spent having jam sessions with my family, you couldn’t not play at our place, only Storm resisted! The rest of my siblings all play at least one instrument.
"That’s awesome," Alex says with a little laugh. "I used to take piano lessons, but I quit. Kind of regret it now." He shrugs softly, looking genuinely disappointed.
I notice his own schedule on the desk and lean slightly to read it.
"Calculus AB? That’s an advanced class, right?"
Alex blushes a little.
"I really like math, I’m good at it, but my real thing is chess. I play in state-level junior tournaments. A month ago, I won the state championship in my age group," he says with a wide smile, yet still blushing shyly at the same time.
"Congrats, wow. I tried playing chess a few times with Winter, my brother, but I always lost. So, respect." I grimace slightly.
"I could train you sometime," Alex says with a little smile. "You’d beat him."
"Um… he’s good. I don’t know."
"Seriously! I could help."
I slowly stand up because something about this makes me uncomfortable. Too intense, and I just… can’t.
"Maybe another time," I say, painfully remembering that I shouldn’t get too friendly with classmates anymore. My life isn’t what it used to be, something inside me is permanently broken, and I don’t want to stain the kind of purity and cheerfulness that Alex gives off with the darkness boiling inside me.
"I guess we should get going. The next class is in another room," I say flatly.
"Yeah, sure," Alex replies, then sneezes loudly.
A few students turn around, smirking.
Two alphas sitting a few seats ahead glance our way with that same mix of disdain and irritation, but they don’t say anything. They look like brothers or cousins, and they have crude, thick faces.
"Did you catch a cold?" I ask quietly.
Alex gives me a small, sad smile. "No, I’m just allergic to, well… almost everything."
As he talks, he starts packing his things, showing me each item as he goes. "This is my EpiPen, just in case I go into anaphylactic shock. Here’s my antihistamine cream, and this is my inhaler. Oh, and the pills. Actually, I’ve got three types of them, for different situations…"
"I see. Must be rough living with the thought that anything you touch could mess you up," I say, though I don’t even know why. Everyone’s got their own problems.
"That’s nice of you to say," Alex replies with a soft smile. "Yeah, it’s like that, but it’s the only life I’ve ever known. So maybe it’s easier for me to live with it."
That makes me think about how my life used to be easy too, not so long ago, but not anymore.
The next class is World History, and I end up sitting next to Alex again.
Once more, I make a massive effort not to look at him, not to glance at that small, cute face with those huge eyes.
But no matter how hard I try, I keep feeling him next to me, his presence pulling my attention like a magnet.
I don’t even know why no one else in the class seems to exist for me, only him, the tiny omega sitting by my side.
Fuck, I don’t know this kid! I have no idea who he is beyond the fact that he likes math. I shouldn’t get involved. I’ve got nothing to offer him, and whatever kind of friend I could be… it wouldn’t be much. I’d just drag him down. My energy is gone, and maybe it’ll never come back.