Chapter 13 Tessa #2
“Lily, have you heard of The Eros Institute?” I proceeded carefully, not ready to reveal I had cash in my bag, especially considering her warning that things sometimes vanished here. I also had the non-disclosure agreement hanging over my head… how much trouble could I get in for saying too much?
“No, should I have?” She shoved her hands in her pocket and waited. I opened my mouth to speak, but then waited as a Beta—obviously Beta, with barely any scent and absolutely zip aura around him—rushed past.
“So, like, they have a research opportunity right now? It’s just for Omegas.
And it pays cash along with a gift voucher.
” I let those words sink in before I continued.
She gave me side eye, her mouth scrunched up oddly.
“So, I went there and, I mean it wasn’t fun, but I gave scent samples and some blood. It was easy, really.”
Lily screeched to a halt and whirled towards me.
“You really went to one of those places?" Her tone was a mix of horror and curiosity.
Was there more than one mysterious institute offering Omegas money for painful samples?
“It’s not a big deal,” I forced my voice to sound devil-may-care, even as her face paled further, causing the freckles to look darker in contrast.
She closed the distance between us and gripped my shoulders. "Tessa, that kind of thing is crazy dangerous. Omegas go to those places and never come back."
“Then who told stories about it?” I quipped playfully.
“I’m serious!” She protested. “Bess in room 10 said she knew a girl, who knew a girl, who answered a flyer for something like that, and she never came back. Poof!” Lily took her hands off me, balled them into fists, and then flung her fingers wide.
“That sounds like an urban legend, Lily. Especially since it’s a girl who knew a girl who knew a girl.
” I forced a grin, though her claim made my belly clench slightly in worry.
“Besides, I went there and here I am. I’m standing right in front of you.
” I turned around, showing her every side of me. “I didn’t go poof.”
“I don’t know…” Lily studied me incredulously.
“Come on, let’s go get breakfast. And then,” I pitched my voice low, “we can take Josie for a walk.”
Her eyes brightened at that, and her smile returned. She practically skipped the rest of our way to the cafeteria. In her wake, she left me going over my experience. It was best not to tell anyone else. For so many reasons.
The cafeteria—with its cinderblock cream walls, curtained stage left over from elementary school performances, and retrofitted cafeteria lunch tables sporting attached stools (half of which were cracked and would pinch your butt terribly if you shifted just right)—was abuzz with activity.
We grabbed faded plastic trays and joined the short line threading through the kitchen alcove.
When it was our turn, three good sisters filled our trays with powdered eggs, a single strip of limp turkey bacon, cold toast triangles, a yogurt, and a small milk.
Salt and pepper shakers could be found at the kitchen exit where a never-used cash register sat.
I tried to eat slowly, I really did, but I cleared my tray in minutes… except for a couple clumps of eggs and half the turkey bacon, all of which I covertly dropped into the briefcase for Josie.
When we were done eating, Lily and I cleaned up our things and then headed towards the public entrance.
A sister I didn’t recognize sitting at the reception desk reminded us that we had to be back by curfew.
If the door was locked, we’d lose our bed.
We both assured her we were just going for a short walk.
Once we were a block away, and out of sight, I let Josie out of the bag.
She did a little shake, her normal stretch, and then began prancing along the damaged sidewalk in search of a nice place to relieve herself.
Lily and I followed, companionable silence blanketing over us.
After a while, Josie finished and tired of walking, we hid her back away and then returned to the shelter.
It was funny how easily I fell into step with the other Omega.
She made me laugh more than once. She helped me talk to the mother and her boys about Josie.
At first, despite Lily’s enthusiastic argument, the mom was apprehensive about aiding our little ruse.
Once she saw her kids playing with Josie though—pulling a shoe across the floor so the cat could chase the loose lace—she softened.
The day was… peaceful. Lunch. Dinner. Chatting. Another short walk, well before lock-up.
When lights out came, I rested on the top bunk staring at the drop ceiling above.
My chest, which had been knotted up for so long, seemed to be loosening.
The room was warm. The HVAC was rumbling and loud and possibly on its last leg.
Josie was in the corner of the bunk again, already sleeping.
I turned on my side, reaching an arm over to her and gently placing my hand against her belly so I could breathe in tandem.
Before I fell asleep, Lily’s words floated through my head. She never came back. Poof!
Everyone in our kind of situation was scared. It made sense that there’d be a boogeyman floating around. It was easier to blame bad luck and people leaving on some monster in the dark rather than admitting it was just crappy, unstoppable life.