5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Alice
S unlight broke across my bedroom like a reluctant apology, barely warm, dust motes spinning lazily in the golden haze as it cut through the blinds.
I blinked slowly, dragging myself out of sleep like it weighed me down.
My body ached in that bone-deep, soul-wearied kind of way — not from effort, but from everything else.
The kind of ache you couldn’t stretch or ice away.
The nest had curled tighter around me overnight, a protective tangle of mismatched blankets, throw pillows, and hoodie sleeves knotted like vines.
One leg was half-cramped beneath me, the other thrown haphazardly over the side of a stuffed animal I hadn’t admitted to owning in years.
My old lavender candle had burned out at some point, leaving behind a faintly smoky edge clinging to the air.
Still, everything smelled familiar. Safe. Like me.
For a few minutes, I just lay there. Breathing.
Listening. The city hummed beyond the walls — traffic, birds, some kid yelling faintly a few buildings down.
Life moved on, louder than I felt ready for.
Eventually, I fumbled for my phone with one sluggish hand, nearly knocking over yesterday’s tea in the process.
The screen lit up with several notifications.
One group chat I muted weeks ago. A deadline reminder I didn’t want to deal with. And—
Mara: You alive?
A smile tugged at my mouth, crooked and weak but real. Of course she’d check in.
Me: Barely. Thinking of quitting everything and becoming a pancake cryptid.
A few seconds passed, then:
Mara: Only if I get cryptid sidekick privileges.
Me: Deal. But you have to be in charge of syrup rations and PR.
Mara: Perfect. I’ll work on our manifesto.
I stared at her last message for longer than I needed to. The kind of stare where your brain is too full and too quiet at the same time. Then I thumbed out:
Me: Thanks again. For last night.
I didn’t expect an answer right away. So when the knock came — loud, casual, and just once — I jolted like I’d been zapped. A full heartbeat passed before I recognized it.
Mara.
I scrambled out of the nest with blanket-static hair and bare feet, nearly tripping over an empty laundry basket and my own pride.
I opened the door, and there she stood. Windbreaker, messy bun, boots already scuffed from the morning sidewalk.
In one hand, she had two large iced coffees, the condensation slicking her fingers.
In the other, a brown paper bag that practically radiated the scent of warm egg, bacon, and butter.
“Did you seriously teleport?” I asked, blinking at her like a confused owl.
Mara gave me a look. “I live like four blocks away.”
“Still.” I muttered, glancing at her again before sighing.
She smirked, brushing past me with the casual air of someone who belonged here.
“I was already at the café. Consider this part of my very elaborate avoidance strategy.” I shut the door behind her, trailing her to the kitchen where she plunked the bag down and started pulling out food like it was a well-practiced drill. It probably was by now.
“I got the greasy ones you like,” she said, tossing me a wrapped sandwich. “And extra napkins because you eat like a raccoon in distress.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, already peeling it open.
The smell alone made me weak. We settled on the kitchen floor like we always did when the table felt like too much pressure.
I curled up against a cabinet, the cold linoleum seeping through my thin socks.
Mara leaned back on her palms, legs stretched out in front of her,
The first bite of the sandwich was so good I could’ve cried. Egg and cheese melted perfectly together, the bacon crisp without being burnt. The kind of breakfast that made you feel human again.
“You look like you either didn’t sleep or solved the meaning of life in your dreams,” Mara said around a mouthful of her own sandwich.
I shrugged. “I don’t think I did either. Just laid there, mostly.”
She nodded like she got it. “Yeah. You get that weird kind of tired where rest doesn’t fix anything?”
“Exactly.” We ate in silence for a while, the kind that didn’t feel heavy. Just two people occupying space. My apartment was still dim, warm from the heating unit rattling in the wall, and smelling faintly like coffee and candle smoke.
Eventually, Mara broke the quiet. “So… your mom still pushing the mixer?”
I groaned, leaning my head back against the cabinets. “Like it’s the most important thing in the universe. I know having pack bonds are important…but I don’t want a bond just because it is the thing to do without any emotion behind it.”
I set down my sandwich, suddenly not as hungry. "It's like they think I'm broken or something because I haven't found an Alpha yet. Like I'm this puzzle piece that doesn't make sense on its own."
Mara snorted, crumpling her wrapper with more force than necessary. "That's bullshit. You're not a puzzle piece. You're a whole damn picture."
I smiled faintly, picking at a loose thread on my sock. "Try telling my mom that. She keeps sending me these articles about 'Omega fulfillment through bonding' and 'the biological imperative of pack structure.'"
"God, that sounds like propaganda from the nineteen fifties." Mara muttered, leaning back against the fridge. Her eyes found mine, steady and certain. "You know it's okay to want what you want, right? Even if it doesn't match what they want for you."
I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees. "I know that. Logically, I do. But there's this part of me that keeps thinking maybe they're right. Maybe I'm just... fighting what's natural."
Mara's expression hardened slightly. "There's nothing unnatural about wanting to choose your own path, Alice."
"But what if—"
"No," she cut me off firmly. "No what-ifs. You're not wrong for wanting more than what they're offering."
I stared at the crumpled wrapper between us, feeling something twist in my chest—not pain exactly, but something close to it. "Sometimes I feel like I'm waiting for something that doesn't exist."
Mara was quiet for a moment, her fingers tapping a thoughtful rhythm against her knee. "Maybe," she finally said, "or maybe you're waiting for the right thing to find you."
I glanced up, catching something in her expression I couldn't quite name. A flicker of something raw before it disappeared behind her usual easy smile.
"Since when did you get so philosophical?" I teased, trying to lighten the sudden weight in the air.
Mara shrugged, the corner of her mouth lifting. "I contain multitudes, Alice. Deep thoughts and questionable coffee choices."
I laughed, and the tension eased. We finished our breakfast in comfortable silence, the morning light growing stronger through the kitchen window, painting golden squares across the linoleum.
"So," Mara said eventually, gathering our trash with practiced efficiency, "what's the plan for today? More academic torture? Or are we staging a rebellion?"
"Unfortunately, I have classes until three," I said, stretching my arms overhead until my shoulders popped. "Then I plan to relax and do my homework since tomorrow is my full free day….I think I am going to go hike and clear my head a bit.”
"Hike?" Mara asked, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise as she tossed our wrappers into the trash. "You going up to Raven's Ridge again?"
I nodded, pushing myself up from the floor and leaning against the counter. "Yeah. There's this trail that branches off the main path. Not a lot of people know about it."
"The one that goes along the cliff edge?" Mara frowned slightly. "Isn't that the one you said gets slippery when it rains?"
"It'll be fine," I said, waving away her concern. "It hasn't rained that much lately."
Mara gave me a skeptical look but didn't push it. "Want company? I could bring my sketchbook." For a moment, I considered it. Mara was easy company, never demanding conversation when silence felt better. But I wanted time to myself and think.
"Actually, I think I need some solo time," I admitted, twisting my fingers into the hem of my hoodie. "Just me and the trees and no one asking me what I want to do with my life."
Mara nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Fair enough. Just promise me you'll be careful on that trail. And take your phone. Fully charged."
"Yes, Mom," I teased, rolling my eyes.
"Hey," she said, flicking my arm lightly, "someone's gotta make sure you don't become a tragic news headline: 'Local Student Falls Off Cliff While Contemplating Existence.'"
I snorted. "That would be a terrible epitaph."
"I'd make sure they wrote something better," Mara promised solemnly. "'Here lies Alice, who told societal expectations to go fuck themselves.'"
"Much better," I laughed as I shook my head at her. "I'll be careful," I promised, crossing my heart with exaggerated solemnity. "No dramatic cliff tumbles. Just me, the trail, and some quality brooding time."
"Good." Mara nodded, satisfied. She glanced at her phone and grimaced. "I should probably get going. Professor Kivrel has this thing about 'punctuality reflecting respect' or whatever."
"Heaven forbid you show disrespect by being two minutes late," I said dryly.
"Exactly." She grabbed her jacket from where she'd tossed it over a chair. "Text me when you get back from your hike tomorrow, okay? Just so I know you haven't been eaten by bears."
"There are no bears at Raven's Ridge." I told her, raising an eyebrow.
"Coyotes, then. Mountain lions. Particularly aggressive squirrels." She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, making me snort.
"I think I can handle a rabid squirrel," I said, following her to the door. "I'll have my pepper spray."
"Against squirrels? That's animal cruelty," Mara teased, shrugging into her jacket.
"You're the one who suggested they were dangerous!" I gasped, trying to suppress my laugh.
She grinned, hand already on the doorknob. "Just checking your moral compass. It's intact."
I rolled my eyes, leaning against the wall as she opened the door. "Thanks for breakfast. And... everything else."
Something softened in her expression. "Anytime, Alice." She hesitated for a beat, like there was something more she wanted to say, but then just lifted her hand in a casual wave. "Good luck with class. Try not to overthink yourself into oblivion."
"No promises," I called after her as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving me to get ready for the day of classes, but there was something deep within me that felt like something was going to happen…I didn’t know if that something was good or bad…only time would tell.