17 back to school
Friday, 20:24 Missed Call: Home
Friday, 20:41 Missed Call: Home
Saturday, 02:01 Missed Call: Home
Saturday, 08:21 Missed Call: Home
Saturday, 09:10 Missed Call: Home
Saturday, 17:54 Missed Call: Home
Sunday, 07:22 Missed Call: Home
Sunday, 08:52 Missed Call: Home
Dad stopped texting after a couple of days and switched to endlessly calling me from the landline.
I’m still ignoring him. Gray assures me he’s keeping an eye on him, and Dad is doing an Oscar-worthy performance that nothing is out of the ordinary. Gray, of course, has to pretend he doesn’t know anything about the situation and hasn’t spoken to me, because why would he?
It must be weird for him, being caught in the middle like this. But he’s never complained and I’m not asking. It’s probably selfish, but having him be there as this unwavering source of whatever support I need is the glue keeping me together.
I hit him with the still alive message every morning, whether I have anything else to say or not.
But we also started texting a little more after the day at the sex shop.
I shoved that bag of stuff so far into my closet and haven’t looked at it since, so nothing about that part of my life has changed, but it did open up a line of communication with Gray.
Captain hotcock - maybe answer
You’re awfully quiet for someone who claims to be so bored all the time.
maybe I’m contemplating my impending world conquest?
you don’t know me
I could have secret ambitions
I’m sure you do, but I don’t think world conquest is one of them. That sounds like so much work. You’d have no time to read, or lie around and complain that you have nothing to read. And those are obviously your two favorite hobbies.
yeah why don’t you tell me some more about your exciting plans this weekend?
oh shit thats right
painting your house. exhilarating
One time, I made the mistake of asking him what music he was listening to. He sent me back a screenshot of his Spotify, and it was endless lists of eighties hair metal. Obviously, I’ll never let him live this down.
What’s wrong with my music? I’m still in my prime, you know.
We never talk about any omega stuff unless I bring it up, which I obviously don’t. It’s nice. He always manages to match my tone, but he doesn’t let me get away with being a little shit all the time, he’s always ready to call me out in a half-teasing kind of way.
It makes me feel all fluttery and shit, which I hate. And would die before I admit it to him.
I did make him promise to teach me how to cook next time I’m home, though.
You never learned to cook? Frank always makes it sound like you were the one holding down the household shit, and you being at college is the reason he’s living like a tramp.
Of course, everything he says has a spin on it, even if it’s true.
yeah I do the household shit
ever since mom left
but nobody was around to teach me how
were definitely a chinese takeout, frozen pizza, occasional bbq kind of family
Your brothers didn’t help?
not really
karl and jax are a lot older, so they were always busy with teenage stuff and then moving out
atlas is the baby obv
and once he was older he was busy training for the army
it kind of just shook out that way
There’s a long pause where he doesn’t answer, and I assume he’s trying to think of something diplomatic to say. Something that doesn’t approve of Dad’s behavior, but isn’t going to start a fight about it. The man has diplomacy skills, I’m realizing. He’s always walking a line.
Part of me feels bad for the fact that conversations with me are such a minefield for him, but mostly I just appreciate him for not pushing.
It makes me feel safe. Like he always does. Without stopping to think, I add another line telling him something I’ve never said out loud before.
I always got the vibe he wanted me to do it all but not actually be good at it
if I learned to cook that would have meant I enjoyed it
which he would have hated
for whatever reason the system was only correct for him if i fucking hated it but did it anyway out of obedience to him
I guess thats kind of messed up
Another long pause, as I hold my breath waiting for his response.
I’d be more than happy to teach you to cook next time you’re home. My mom taught me, and I think everyone should know how to take care of themselves. No matter what their designation.
The temptation to ask him more about his mom is right there. I get the feeling his parents are gone. Gone, gone. And I don’t want to be super pushy and invasive when he’s been so chill with me.
So instead, I crack a joke and then thank him for the offer. And neither of us ever brings it up again.
The conversations help pass the time, though.
Beyond that, I mostly study to get prepared for the semester and hang out with Alyssa.
She’s taken it upon herself to teach me all these things about omega rights and whatnot, which I appreciate.
It’s tedious a lot of the time and makes me feel stupid, but as much as I hate it, I know it’s something I should know.
And I was never going to get there myself. I needed her to be pushy in all the ways that Gray isn’t.
I also jerk off more than can possibly be healthy, and it never hits the spot.
Of course, I only let myself jerk off the way I used to, before my genitals decided to fucking rearrange themselves and leave me hanging.
It’s enough, though. That’s what I always tell myself.
I can just keep jerking off alone, possibly forever.
I miss Gray.
I’ve hoarded blockers and neutralizing spray like it’s gold, in preparation for moving back into the dorms and starting back at practice.
Which is the thing I’m not looking forward to more than anything else.
But when the day actually comes, no amount of anxious spiraling could have prepared me for how bad it is.
The walk from the building entrance to my room is almost more than I can handle. I’ve stayed in the same building with all the other athletes for three years now, but stepping inside with my new sense of smell is a fucking nightmare.
It’s full of noise from the hustle and bustle of everyone moving in, but all the smells are like a direct assault to my senses.
Alpha. Nothing but fucking alpha.
Most people present anywhere from the ages of 16 to 22, which means the majority of alphas have presented by the time they’ve finished college.
Those who have presented or are likely to present as alphas are naturally going to be more drawn to sports, where their physical strength and stamina gives them an edge. When I first arrived at college, I felt like I belonged here. It smelled and sounded exactly like home.
In retrospect, I realize I’ve never really felt like I “belonged” at home.
Just walking through the halls, I feel strange. Vulnerable, like everyone must be looking at me and sifting through their senses to figure out what’s not adding up.
They shouldn’t be able to smell me with all the blockers I’m wearing.
And if they can, it should be faint enough to be explained by contact with an omega rubbing off on me.
I walk through the halls as quickly as possible, desperate to get to my room and be away from the constant shuffle of other people in the halls.
Thank fuck I have my own room, now that I’m a Senior. I don’t think this would work if I was sharing a room with someone.
I’m still not really convinced it’s going to work.
As soon as I get to the door, I unlock it with the key I was handed at registration and thrust myself inside. I’m carrying most of my stuff—a duffel bag, a gear bag, and a cardboard box with some extras, which I dump on the bed at the same time.
I still have a few things at Alyssa’s, but she said there’s no rush to move it. She said there were a lot of things she’ll do for me, but setting foot inside this dorm isn’t one of them.
At the time, I thought it was strange. It can’t be that bad, right? And she’s an alpha too, even if there’s a stigma around female alphas. But now that I’m here, I get it.
The scents are overwhelming, but I also find myself more sensitive to the energy here. I don’t know if that’s biological or if I’m just paranoid, but the vibes are intense. Masculinity, in a very raw, chaotic form, floods this space, and I feel like it’s slapping me in the face.
Alyssa would probably tell me it’s testosterone, not masculinity, and those are not the same things. She has a lot of thoughts on masculinity and alpha natures being protective, rather than combative, when they’re secure. But very few people are truly secure in themselves in college.
I hate it here. I don’t know how I’m going to survive nine more months like this.
I stick my head back out of the door, because I need to piss and I don’t want to bump into anyone in the hallway until I’m more settled. Of course, Caleb, who’s on my team, is standing directly in front of the door opposite mine, talking to a guy on the football team whose name I don’t know.
Caleb has always been one of the nicer guys on the team, which I appreciate. He’s good-looking, with wavy brown hair in a kind of Prince Charming cut and a stereotypical fit alpha build, but he doesn’t carry himself with the same violent arrogance a lot of our teammates do.
He upnods me with a smile, and I try to smile back, looking casual. But I’m way too aware of every part of my body, and it doesn’t feel natural.
Caleb frowns a little, which makes me nervous, because I obviously don’t look relaxed. So I duck into the hallway and head toward the bathroom without letting him stop me for conversation.
He’s probably one of the more perceptive guys on the team, so having the room opposite him is going to suck.
He’s not nosy, but he’s one of those people who looks at you like they’re really looking at you and picking up on details.
A lot of the guys on the team are too self-centered to notice when something’s off with a teammate, but Caleb isn’t one of those guys.
Actually, now that I think about it, Caleb is how I know Alyssa. I don’t remember how they know each other, but I know he’s the reason she was at a few team events last year, where I ended up chatting with her.