7. Bella Rose
Chapter 7
Bella Rose
A ll morning, it’s the same. I hide as best I can. In class, people whisper and occasionally call out stupid shit, but no one talks to me. It’s freaky because I can feel the heavy weight of their stares on me. I’m not used to being so visible, and it makes panic sit in my chest.
At lunch, I duck through the crowd quickly, avoiding Marigold and her whole crew. Slipping into the bathroom, I lock myself in a stall and brace myself against the door. My eyes water, but I squeeze them shut.
I can do this. It will blow over, and I’ll go back to being invisible.
Taking a deep breath, I wipe under my eye and try to think of how I’m going to make it through the rest of the day. After lunch, I’ve got omega studies classes. As much as I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I know I don’t want to spend the afternoon with Marigold.
I force myself to pull it together and open the stall. A group of girls hovering around the mirror gawk at me, but I push past them, scurrying out the nearest door without stopping.
The hallways are blessedly clear as I walk toward the main building, formulating a plan. I can spend lunch with the counselor, maybe even part of the next period. She can change my course program to general studies so I never have to be scheduled with the omegas again.
Rounding the corner by the gym, I freeze at a menacing growl followed by a loud pop. I peek around the corner’s edge and spot Nash and Dane. Nash looks feral, his fists slamming into the lockers as Dane tries to stop him.
I know I should stop watching, but I can’t help myself. Nash looks gutted, and it tugs at the hole gaping inside me.
The big alpha rips down something taped to the lockers, throwing off Dane’s hold and going down the hall in a wake of shredded paper.
Everything inside me screams to go to him, but my feet won’t move.
Dane barks, “Cool off, man.”
The power of the bark reaches me down the hall, and my knees almost buckle. Dane tugs Nash around to face him, holding his head in his hands, and I pull back from the corner, afraid I might be spotted. Heart pounding, I listen.
“We’ve got one month, and then we’re going to LU. It’s fucked up what that girl is going through, but it isn’t your fault. Don’t let that night cost you your future.”
My heart squeezes, and my cheeks heat in embarrassment. I don’t want it to be true, but I can’t help the sinking feeling that I’m the reason Nash is so riled up.
There’s a low growl, and I peer back around the corner, watching in horror as Nash shoves Dane in the chest.
Dane stumbles back a step, calling after a retreating Nash, “You already fucked up Travis. You can’t beat on everyone! Be mad all you want, but I’m not letting you blow this by self-destructing.”
“Fuck you, Daniels,” Nash calls without stopping.
Shit. This is all a mess. I wish I could rewind time and never go to that stupid party.
“Dammit!” Dane curses, his hands finding his hips as he surveys the hallway confetti.
I can see the indecision on his face even in profile. His chest expands, big and broad, and his rumble carries down the hall, though I can’t make out the words. On the next inhale, he freezes. His gaze snaps my way, and I’m caught. The pity in those beautiful brown eyes of his feel like a barbed snare shredding me to pieces.
Dane’s brows furrow, and he steps toward me.
Jerking back, I flatten myself against the wall, pretending that if I stay still, he won’t see me.
The thud of sneakers on the linoleum warns me that I’m not going to be that lucky. I don’t know what’s worse, being caught or running. Before I can decide, he’s facing me.
Dane doesn’t come close. He simply stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and nods toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll help you take down the rest.”
I bite my lip, trying not to cry. “You… should go after him.”
There is no version of this story where Dane Daniels is the one with me when I find out what’s on that paper.
Dane looks down the empty hallway, then back at me. For a moment, he stares. His gaze is so intense that it’s like I’m looking directly at his inner alpha.
He steps closer, his face twisted in confusion. It’s as if we’ve been hit with a stun gun, the two of us caught in this strange, supercharged moment. His perusal turns hot, penetrating, causing the screeching bats in my stomach to nosedive. I suck in a breath, the slight sound breaking his gaze.
Dane shakes off whatever weird spell we were under, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but me. “I’m sorry this happened. We can report it to Coach and?—”
“No! Just go!” I demand, the flames of my embarrassment fueling my anger.
He takes one last glance at me, and the sympathy there makes me want to smack the look right off his face. Whatever weird moment we just had is lost. I obviously mistook his kindness for interest. What a fool I am to think I could ever belong in their world. It’s clear in his eyes he thinks I’m a sob story.
“Go! Tell Nash I don’t want to see him and I don’t need him fighting my battles.”
“Got it,” Dane says, his words clipped. He turns and walks away without looking back.
I don’t care if he thinks I’m rude. He needs to be gone. Both of them. This is embarrassing enough. I wait, anxious that someone else may come, until I'm sure the coast is clear. On shaky legs, I hurry down the hall and retrieve one of the torn flyers.
I should never have come back to this school.
Shaking, crying, and trying not to throw up, I stuff it in my pocket. Grabbing as much of the remaining paper from the floor as I can, I cart it to the trash can outside the gym’s double doors. Inside, kids are yelling and playing volleyball. I duck and shove the paper inside, trying to hide the evidence. I know people have seen it, but I can’t just leave it.
A scream wants to bubble in my throat, but I can’t break here. Not again, not in front of all these people. I sneak across campus and out past the baseball fields. There’s a hole in the fencing by the trail that passes behind the field, and I squeeze through, following the trail through a neighborhood before spilling out onto the main road.
I debate where to go but decide to risk it at home.
The walk home is long, and it takes longer because I’m playing hide-and-seek, trying not to be spotted by anyone. My parents know the whole damn town. By the time I make it through our neighbor’s backyard and over our fence, I’m drenched in sweat. I open the back door quietly, listening for the sounds of my mother, but thankfully, she isn’t close by. The trip up the stairs is just as slow, but I make it to my room without being caught.
Closing the door, I allow myself to look at the flyer I snagged, even though I know I shouldn’t. The crumpled paper is torn in half, and I put the two sides together, staring in shock as I take it all in. It’s me at the party, but this isn’t the same picture of Nash carrying me that I saw going around before. My tits are out, my rounded stomach bare, and I’m covered in mud. My arms are raised, and I have the most mortifying stoned look on my face. The thing is titled “Busted Bella.” My social media handle lays over the image in a flashy font, the caption below reading: “Slide into her DMs for a dirty time.”
I haven’t checked my phone after the initial social spiral I went through, and the thought of checking my DMs makes my stomach churn. It starts as a match, small and angry inside me, but it won’t be contained. I smash my phone first, then rip the curtains from the walls. Ransacking my drawers, I find a pair of scissors, then go to town on all the soft pink-and-white bedding. It’s satisfying, watching it all rip, but that doesn’t stop the hot tears. The scent-blocking panties that line my drawer—the ones my mother has bought for me since I turned fourteen—go next.
It was a lie. All a lie.
I tear it all down until it’s in shreds, finally facing the truth. I'm exactly what they say I am.
Busted.
Broken.
Beta.
Right there in the mess pile that has become my life, I swear to the gods that I will leave this shitty town and all the awful people in it.