32. Red
Red
Kelya
Ipress my ear against the inside of my bedroom door, even though the screaming is so loud on the other side I probably don’t need to. My omega mom and older sister are going at it, and it’s only escalating.
“You know the rules, Marquette!”
“The rules are bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!” my sister screams back.
Then I hear the slap.
Everything goes quiet, except the tension, which hums louder. I hold my breath.
My mother has slapped us before, but this feels different. Marquette is almost old enough to join the Alpha-Omega Placement Institute, find her alphas, and leave our home. She’s not a child and hasn’t been for a long time.
She also…didn’t do anything wrong.
I did.
I started crocheting recently, and possessed by omega tendencies I didn’t know I needed to control, I crocheted a blanket.
A big blanket. I haven’t slept in two nights to finish it.
Marquette ran to the craft store three separate times to get me more yarn.
Reds. Pinks and purple. Oranges. Whatever she could find.
In our house, it’s against the rules to nest. Both Marquette and I are omegas, but my mother believes nesting before we have perfumed and joined alphas is bad for us.
She tells us “nesting should be reserved for your future pack, and you’d be robbing them of the joy of providing you with your first nest.”
Because of that, our access is limited to what can be used as nesting materials: blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and laundry.
All our laundry goes right to the laundry room for her to clean. We’re forbidden from entering. We only get two blankets: a comforter and an afghan. And one pillow.
This blanket is a household crime by merely existing.
My friends at school taught me how to start a crochet chain, and it was like something awoke inside of me, wrapping that little string into connecting loops, holding the tension between my fingers, and building something that could wrap around me…
Confused about what I was getting myself into, I went to Marquette and couldn’t even explain what I was nervous about. She understood though. She told me to be quiet and just work.
When my mother found the giant nine-foot-by-nine-foot monstrosity I’d created, she lost it. My sister took the fall. She said she bought it. Then she said it was a courting gift from an alpha. Her story kept changing, and my mom caught on that she was lying.
Thus the screaming.
And now the slap.
Why did my sister let me do that? I should have just gone to Mom when the instinct was there. She would have helped me stop it. Why did I go to Marquette?
I only got a few minutes wrapped up in it before my mom was barging in, and we tried to shove it under the bed. We failed, and she caught us.
It’s in my mother’s arms, and last I saw, Marquette was trying to yank it back.
“You made me do that, Marquette,” my mother says as her grand excuse.
“Well, it didn’t even hurt,” my sister sasses. I suck in a breath. Why on earth did she say that?! Abort! Abort! Just say you’re sorry! Let them take my blanket away. It’s not worth it.
Another slap rings out, and Marquette slams into the wall. That wall has an ornate chair rail. I can only imagine how much that hurt to slam against.
“Say goodbye to any of your freedoms now, little girl. You won’t see any of your friends at all this summer. Your life will be here until you perfume. So get used to it!”
Marquette laughs. I guess she’s lost it. My mom mocks her laugh. They are both maniacal. “Get into your room!”
“Yeah, Mom, ok. I’ll get into my room. You win! You fucking win!”
“I win?! You’re the one always winning! I’m the one left losing every time!”
I groan and hit my head against the door. The screaming continues until Marquette goes into her room and my mom shuts it and yells more on the other side. Then she takes my blanket and stomps away.
Marquette has already come into my room via the bathroom that connects the two. I feel her presence.
“Are you ok?” she asks. I just stay by the door, huddled into the wood grain. “Kelya, come on. I’ll get the blanket back.”
“No, please don’t. I shouldn’t have…”
“Shut up. God, don’t let them get to you.
That would break my heart.” She kneels by my bed and pulls out the purple skein hidden underneath, the last one left, and finds the crochet hook, jabbing it inside.
“You’ve got one left. I’ll find you more yarn.
You’ll make a new one, if I can’t find that one. ”
“Marquette…”
“No, please, for the love of everything, don’t give me that sad, pathetic little tone. Mom sucks. They all suck. As soon as I’m with my alphas, I’ll get you out of here, and we will live together. I’ll get you a nest, and you can do whatever you want.”
I’m still facing the door, unable to move. I’m just as scared as I was the moment Mom found the blanket. I’m afraid she’ll stomp back in here and take more things from me.
“Yeah, ok.”
“Yeah, ok,” she mocks. “Is that what you want? To come live with me?”
My legs shake from the adrenaline slowly dissipating, so I sink down where I stand. The rug beneath me provides some comfort.
“We’re surrounded by desert and…” I sigh and rub my hands together. We’re surrounded by rules and expectations I can’t meet. “I want something away from here.”
“You do?” She sits on my bed and holds the yarn in her lap.
“I want to travel.”
She laughs, and I look up at her. The right side of her face is bright red, and the apple of her cheek looks like it may bruise. Oh my god, why did she tell her it was her blanket? That was so fucking stupid.
“Then travel you must!”
“No, no. Mom would never allow that. I don’t have a job or money. I’ll do what you’re doing, and I’ll get some alphas. Things will be better there.”
“I heard about an alpha and an omega who traveled all the time. He worked on the road, and she nested wherever they stayed. They went to Mexico, Puerto Rico, and then Japan and Morocco. All over. That could be you.”
I nod and look away. Probably not. The only thing my inner omega really wants to do is find a nest, and I heard, when an omega finally perfumes, their desire only gets stronger. She wants me to find a confined space and fill it with soft things and bury myself into it. I dream about it.
“I’m being silly.” It’s hurting my head to think about the future. “I need some alone time, Marquette. Can you…”
It’s silent for a long time before she says, “Please don’t let her get to you. Our lives are so much bigger than this place.”
I lay down on the rug and hold myself in a small ball. Marquette stands and flips on my lamps, then shuts off the overhead light before leaving me.
I don’t cry.
I don’t cry once.
I tell myself to be better. To choose to obey Mom and the rules.
To believe I’ll find a place to go, and it will be everything I need to be happy.
It has to be. The next time I see my sister, her face looks worse, and she won’t let me apologize, despite me following her around, begging her to forgive me.
She never finds the blanket, and I don’t make a new one.
When I wake up, we are still in the air. Tony is asleep above me as I lie in his lap. His mouth hangs open slightly, and his shoulders are totally lax. While his hand is a dead weight on my hip, his fingers curl slightly under the rope. The rope that is tying me up tightly.
The aftershocks of my dream thump around me.
Marquette was the best big sister, and all I ever did was get her in trouble. I didn’t want it to happen again, so I threw away the yarn and hook. She was so mad at me. She called me a coward.
I was a coward, but I was also just a kid, and so was she.
I didn’t have what I have now. I thought I’d live forever.
I thought I had more options. Those kinds of things make a person inert.
I was waiting for time to release me. Then I stole my freedom for myself and lived life for pleasure and the next high.
My thoughts move to the man above me. When the plane lands and I have to part ways with Tony Racine, I’m going to want to fucking die. I thought I’d just miss my freedom, but I want something else. Someone else. I want him. I want him like water.
Carefully, I reach into my pocket for the little baggie containing the anti-scent blocker.
I’d picked it up on my way to the hotel, along with a change of clothes.
Tony and I are going to part ways at the airport once we land, and I want him to smell me.
I should have given him more time, but this is where we are at.
We can’t be together.
I have to return to my nest.
But I can give him this.
I place the bitter tablet under my tongue and let it dissolve. The pilot gets on the intercom to tell us we will be landing soon. I sit up, and Tony’s mouth closes as he slowly wakes up. He smiles at me then stretches his arms up. I stretch too, then drink some water.
He’s going to like my scent, right? It’s really important to me that he does. I know he assumes it’s some sort of rose, but that’s been a lie for a while.
At the Institute, when I first made my profile, I told them “rose” since that was her scent. She smelled of roses.
My older sister.
“Tony,” I say with a wobble in my voice.
“Yes, what do you need?”
“I just want to tell you…before we land…” And before we don’t see each other again…
His head kicks to the side as he listens to me.
“My scent isn’t rose.”
“I wondered…”
“That was Marquette’s scent.”
“Your sister.”
“Yes. I lied on my paperwork. It’s not a big deal to be off on your paperwork, because you do a test, and they update it.
It was just a clerical error that my file wasn’t updated.
I think it was because by the time they had the results, I was already in a pack, already in placement, so there wasn’t any need. ”
“She died of Nest Waning Syndrome, didn’t she?”
“Yes. They said it was an aneurysm, but I found out the truth. She was diagnosed only months before she died…I’m going on two years.”