Chapter Seven
The next morning when I wake, the previous day feels like a dream. It's so surreal that I have to pull the pics up to believe it. Out of all the things on my bingo card for my first year of college, being courted by a damn pack wasn't one of them. Especially, by a prominent one full of some of the nicest human beings I've ever had the pleasure to meet.
Butterflies start their round in my belly again as I scroll through the pics. I skip over the ones I took of just me, though, they turned out great and will make good material for posting. They're by far not my favorite. No, the best ones, by far, are the ones that captured the exact moment Cordell gave me as a gift that I'll treasure forever.
I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I'm late rolling out of bed. Tossing my hair up in a messy bun, I throw on the first pair of jeans that I can find and a clean top before stuffing all of my things into my messenger bag and walking out. Of course, sometime during the night, my roommate decided that she needed to stack all of her dirty laundry in a hamper right beside the door. It goes toppling over, spilling its contents across the floor.
She skulks into the room just as I'm putting the last handful back into the basket. "What are you doing going through my dirty clothes, weirdo?"
"I wasn't," I tell her, trying not to get angry. "This fell as soon as I opened the door to go out."
Her dark eyeliner looks caked on, like it's been there for days and she just keeps putting more on to cover it from the day before. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be trying to accent or hide the gaudy blue eyeshadow that she's wearing, but it's failing and doing neither. She looks like she went digging through the damn basket I knocked over to find her clothes for the day since there's a giant red stain that looks suspiciously like spaghetti right smack in the middle of her chest. Normally, I wouldn't go out of my way to be thinking mean thoughts about someone, but her rotten attitude is killing my vibe that I woke up with. I kind of hate her for it.
"Whatever," she spits out at me, stomping over to her side of the room. "Leave my freaking stuff alone."
She starts mumbling something about omegas thinking they own the whole damn world and can do whatever they want as I'm shutting the door behind me. We're going on months of knowing each other and having to share a space and never once did I take her for being a salty, omega-hating beta. Hell, when I first got here, I even went out of my way to bring her things if I went out. Like a coffee or a smoothie. After the third time of seeing it sitting where I left it, I stopped doing anything nice. Then we just started ignoring each other.
"Make it through this year," I tell myself out loud as I'm now walking across campus. "New year. New roommate."
"Do you talk to yourself often?" a voice asks, coming up beside me.
I glance over and up into an icy-blue gaze right above a bright smile. "Only on days that end in y."
Brent nods a couple times. "That's good to know. Maybe we ought to tell the others, though. That way they don't think we've invited a crazy into the house."
"How do you know that I'm not?" I ask in my most serious tone, fighting a smile.
Giving me a once over from my head to my toes, he shrugs. "Meh, it's worth it."
I laugh, making a few heads turn around us. "You Pack...wait, I haven't found out the name of your pack yet. Here I am letting one of you convince me to change my stance and I don't even know your pack name."
He stops walking and stares at me funny. "We're Pack Apollo."
"Okay, good. That's a good name. I like it. Why Apollo? Why are you looking at me like that?" I ramble.
"There's a whole lot to unpack that came from a few sentences," he says slowly. "Can we go back to what you said about your stance? What are you talking about?"
I fidget with my hands nervously, and I know that my cheeks are turning pink. I hurry up and answer him before I make the situation any more awkward. "Cordell took me on a hike yesterday, and I thought it was because he was going to murder me, but then we got out there and I figured out that he wouldn't have to do the murdering, because I'm apparently, super unfit and almost didn't make it to the top of the bluff, then when we get there he says a lot of sweet things that counterbalance the gross humus that he'd brought as dinner, and he convinced me that I should let your pack court me in the real way and not just as friends, because he believes in fate and said, in a nutshell, if there's no risk there's no reward."
Once I finish talking, I stop to take a real breath since I started my rambling. Brent's lips are parted in surprise, and I can't help but to reach out and push on his chin to close them.
"Sorry," I tell him. "I think maybe Cordell should've been the one to tell you. I'm completely out of my element with this and have no idea how packs work. I hope I didn't step on toes and do something wrong."
His reply is to put his hands on my shoulders and pull me into a tight hug. There's a hard sigh that comes from him and makes my hair tickle at the top of my head as my lungs fill with his sweet, fruity-cereal scent. "You did nothing wrong. He hasn't informed us of your outing yesterday, but that's because we barely see each other during the week. It's why we save Sundays for the pack. But, there are no secrets between us. He'd have beat you to the punch if he'd have seen us. Might've already with Jake, because they're business partners and spend more time with each other."
Pulling far enough away that he can glance down at me, he admits, "I'm glad he convinced you. I figured it'd be Palmer who would try since he's not used to not getting what he wants if he works hard enough for it. Plus, he's just a baby and some girls go for that kind of thing. Color me surprised that Cordell was the one that convinced you, though. Normally, he stays pretty neutral until we need a tie breaker for something. Also, I'm glad he didn't murder you."
I laugh at the sudden change in topic. I didn't even realize in my rambling that I'd mentioned that part.
This close, I can see his eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles down at me. "Would it be too forward if I asked to kiss you right now?"
Taking a look around, I don't see anyone staring at us, but I still ask, "Here? Aren't you worried we'll be seen?"
"Remember, there are loopholes for the rules if we're courting," he reminds me.
Not like I need the reminder. I just wanted to give him a chance to change his mind if he wanted to. Going up on my toes, I press my lips against his. It's short and sweet, but leaves promises of more to come later.
"Thank you," he murmurs against my mouth.
I reply with a smile, stepping away. He holds out an elbow for me to take, and I do before we start our stroll across campus toward the dining hall.
"I think I'll need to buy Cordell a gift while I'm on the search for yours," he says, lost in thought.
"You know you don't really have to buy me things," I tell him. "I'm used to providing for myself, so I'm not expecting anything like that."
He smiles over at me. "It's part of being courted, so you'll have to get used to it."
I roll my eyes, and he tries to explain better. "As an alpha, the drive to take care of my people is instinct. It's what makes me happy. If it ever becomes too much and affects yours then, of course, I'd make sure your comfort comes before my own."
"Thank you," I tell him, lightly squeezing his arm.
Before we walk into the dining hall, I drop his arm. Pack Apollo may be officially courting me, but that doesn't mean I want Brent looking unprofessional walking into a crowded room with a student on his arm. This will be so much easier at the end of the semester and the guilt isn't riding me as hard for being his student.
One look around the room, and I can tell that the familiar face I've been searching for over a week now for isn't here. It makes me curious enough to tag along behind Brent and ask, "Is there a way of looking up a student and getting their contact information?"
"You mean as a professor or a student?" he asks, loading a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes on his tray.
"There was a girl," I admit, whispering the next two words, "an omega who sat with me during breakfast last week and seemed pretty adamant that it'd be a frequent thing, but I haven't seen her since. I just wanted to check in and make sure she was okay."
He waits for me to load my tray with pancakes, eggs, and fruit before leading us over to an empty table. As we're sitting he says, "I can look up her information in the student database, but unfortunately, I can't give that out to you. Not only would it be a violation of privacy, but our involvement would make it ten times worse."
"I get it," I tell him dejectedly.
Taking a bite of his breakfast, he appears lost in thought while he chews. I see his face light up with an idea just as he swallows. "However, were you to go to the omega center and express your concerns, they may be able to do a welfare check on her. They may also not be able to give you her information, but at least they'll be aware of your concerns and hopefully send someone to check in with her."
"That's a good idea," I admit, eating around talking. I lower my voice to admit, "I've never been to an omega center."
"Your mom didn't take you when you came into your designation?" he asks surprised.
I shake my head. "No, she's a beta and never understood my quirks and needs, I guess you can say. Besides, she said all the center is good for is omegas looking for packs. Something she was strictly solid ground against."
"This may be too forward, but what about your heats? Did she let you suffer through them alone with no help or understanding?" he asks grufflly.
Letting out a small huff, I tell him, "I was at school when my first heat hit. She wouldn't even come pick me up. Then, when I got home all I wanted to do was crawl into a dark corner with all the soft fluffy comfort things and die, but she said being outdoors would cure me of my affliction and ailments."
"By George, it's not a disease," he states, displaying a bit of anger in his tone.
"She knows that, but I think in her head, I was just overreacting for attention."
"Does she still feel this way?" he asks.
I shrug. "I don't think she even knows how she feels anymore. She'd have to stop drinking long enough to feel something."
"I'm so sorry, love," he says with a shake of his head as he looks down at his untouched plate.
There's a moment where my muscles freeze and I can't even think to breathe. I'm not sure he even knows that he's called me a pet name. Let alone that one.
It's another few seconds before I break out of my stupor. "It's okay, honestly. It took me a while to understand that she is completely biased and jaded. That's part of the reason why I ignored her and came here anyway against her pushing me not to."
"I'm glad you have a mind of your own," he says, that smile coming back out to play and lighten the mood.
"Me, too," I tell him.
Glancing down at his watch, his expression turns morose. "I wish I could stay and spend the day with you, but I've got class in a few minutes."
"So do I," I remind him.
"Want to do something later?" he asks.
I nod. "Sure."
He hands me his phone. "Want to put your number in so we can figure out what we want to do. Or should we just wing it?"
"Normally, I'd say wing it, because you never know the fun to be had that way," I reply. "But, it would be nice to have your number."
He beams as he watches me type in and then press call. Once I'm certain I have it to save, I end the call and hand it back to him.
"Talk to you soon," he says, standing with his tray.
"I hope so, professor," I tell him, watching his smile grow even as he has to walk away.
Right after my classes, I skip lunch and head over to the other side of campus where I've not dared to set foot. I've had no use for the omega center or their mingling of pack ways, so I've avoided this entire side at all costs. Almost out of fear that I'll get sucked in as soon as I walk by and be forced into a pack. Yet, here I am willingly going inside to check on a friend. It helps ease my mind a little knowing I can use Pack Apollo as my shield if I have to.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, I make my way inside. I am prepared for sterile white walls like a hospital, but that's so far from what I get. As soon as I walk in, soft, muted colors of the main waiting area greet me. It's gentle on my eyes, and immediately makes me feel comfortable. Even the lady behind the desk against the wall is in a soft-lilac-colored dress.
I'm not surprised that her voice matches as she speaks in a gentle tone. "Can I help you, Ms?"
"I'm not sure," I answer her honestly. "I was hoping to find contact information for another omega."
"Are you requiring assistance? We have someone here that can speak with you," she tells me.
I shake my head. "No, it's not for me. I met someone last week and haven't seen her since. I just wanted to check and make sure that she was okay, but I don't have any of her contact info."
"Unfortunately, we aren't able to give any of that out for privacy reasons," she says sadly. "However, if you give me her name, we'd be more than happy to go check on her."
"Great," I say, walking over to her desk. I'm just about to give her a name when I realize I only know the first half of it. I don't know her last name. I really suck at this friend thing.
About the time I go to tell the lady as much, here comes Millie-Jane strolling out the main door that leads into the rest of the building. Her face lights up the second her eyes land on me.
"Billie!"
"Hey," I say, throwing my hand up in a small wave. I glance at the lady. "That's my friend. Thank you for your help."
She nods with a smile as I meet Millie-Jane halfway across the room.
"Hey," I call out to my friend. "I was worried about you when I didn't see you at breakfast for the past week."
"Ohhhh, I got my first heat since being here," she says, not bothering to keep her voice down like we normally would anywhere else on campus. "They have the absolute best suppressants here, and the rooms are like being in a luxury hotel. Honestly, it was the easiest heat I've ever had in my life. Is that why you're here, too?"
Her expression is sympathetic as she asks, but I stop her before she can get carried away. "No, no. I really was just checking on you to make sure that you were okay. I thought the center might be able to reach out and I don't know, do a welfare check on you or something. It sounds pretty stupid now, I guess."
"It's not stupid," she coos, eyes filled with unshed tears. "That's just the sweetest thing. Thank you."
I open my mouth to tell her that she doesn't have to thank me when a woman comes out of the same door she just came from and calls out for her.
She hands her a small, discreet, white bottle with no label. "Take these with you just in case you have any lingering side effects."
"Thanks so much," Millie-Jane tells her, stuffing the bottle in her pocket.
The stranger turns her attention to me, holding out her hand. "I'm Lisa. I'm one of the life coaches here at the center."
"Billie," I tell her, taking her hand.
"Ah, yes," she says. "Ms. Bardot. I was wondering if we were going to get to meet you while you were here with us."
"You know who I am?" I ask, surprised.
She nods, "Indeed, I do. It's kind of our job to be familiar with all of the omegas on campus. So that we're able to assist in any way that you need us. I'd love to speak with you for a few minutes, if you have the time to spare."
I knew it. I got sucked in and have no one to blame but myself for it. To calm my nerves enough to help my palms that have started to sweat, I just keep repeating ‘Apollo’ in my head.
Adding to my surprise, Millie-Jane reaches out to take my hand, giving it a good squeeze. "You won't regret it. Promise. They'll help you in any way that you need them to and take real good care of you."
"Sure," I hear myself saying.
Millie-Jane squeezes my hand again with a big smile. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow at breakfast."
"Okay, bye," I say, now feeling nervous as hell to be left alone with this stranger.
We part ways as I follow the lady through the door they came out of. I focus on the back of her cream-colored sweater to keep from throwing up on the floor from nerves. She doesn't take us very far, motioning me into a room halfway down the hall. The room is done in a light sage green with thick, cream-colored carpet with matching plushy chairs and a desk against the wall.
"How are you doing here on campus?" Lisa asks as we take our seats. Her beta lavender scent is very soft and it makes me so relaxed that I'm almost sleepy.
"I'm okay," I tell her honestly. "I've been self-sufficient for several years, so it wasn't much different being here."
"That's good," she says. "Some people struggle a bit their first semester of college, especially omegas since everything is more intensified for you guys. You haven't been feeling overwhelmed at all?"
The more time I spend in her presence, the more she starts to remind me of my mom before she started drinking. It makes me want to spill my guts to her, revealing all my darkest secrets that I've kept inside for so long.
"Just about normal things that I think everyone feels from time to time," I tell her. "I'm taking a full load of classes and working a lot to save money, so that can get to me if I'm not careful."
She nods. "That's understandable. It's a lot of responsibility."
I bite my bottom lip for a second before I add, "I agreed to a pack courting recently, too."
With a small dip of her chin in acknowledgement, she says, "That's good. I hope you're both familiar with everything that entails."
"I think so," I admit.
That one phrase might as well have been a cry for help. By the time that I'm walking out of the center, I've got several small books and pamphlets to read. Not to mention the plethora of information that Lisa dropped on me. Not exactly the information I came here seeking, but I'll take it nonetheless.
Brent texted me halfway through the meeting with her and set a time to swing by and pick me up. I'm cutting it close and now have to hoof it back to my room to get ready.