Chapter 1 - Bridget #4
“Okay?” I asked.
“Yes, I’ll try to be nicer next time.”
This was even more unnerving than when he’d half-joked with me earlier. I hiked my bag further up on my shoulder. “Great. Well, goodnight.” Then I fled the building.
As soon as I made it out onto the street, I called Maggie, the only Omega I’d kept in contact with after she’d left the Center. I figured she might be at work, but she’d asked for a full debrief of my first day.
“Hi! How was it? Did you already cure all the stem cells?” Maggie said, picking up after half a ring.
I laughed. I was pretty sure she was joking. “It was… okay. Not a total disaster. But also not perfect.”
“‘Not a total disaster’ is encouraging.”
“I guess. But do you remember that rude Alpha I told you about in my last lab? Dr. Manalo?” I paused. “Who said no one would take me seriously? He’s the senior associate on the study.”
“Fuck. That’s bad, right? Is he gonna sabotage you or something?”
“It’s not ideal.” I crossed the street in the middle of a crowd of people, some wearing scrubs since we were so close to a few of the city’s best hospitals.
“But no, I don’t think he’d sabotage me.
He’s just a jerk. But I told him to back off the intern.
She’s very sweet, and I don’t want him to ruin it for her. ”
“Good for you. Fuck the patriarchy, etc.,” she said. I heard someone yell something in the background, and suddenly Maggie was yelling back: “Hey, fuck you too, buddy! At least I’m not the one stupid enough to try to escape through the sewer like a goddamn cartoon character.”
“Fun day at work?”
“Yeah, it’s always a fucking blast over here. Some jagoff tried to rob a bank and then fell down a manhole. Such is the glamorous life of the FPD. But how was everything other than the horrible man?”
“The lab is amazing. We’ve got the best equipment, all brand new, and I don’t have to share it with anyone else.
I’m not vying for attention. I just get to do what I want all day.
” Now that I wasn’t in Nathan’s presence, things seemed a lot brighter, even as a cold, miserable drizzle crept down my collar.
“Aw yay! I’m so proud of you.” She lowered her voice. “And no one was weird about… you know?”
I hesitated, thinking about Anvi letting it slip that Dr. Finch called me “the Omega,” and Lisbeth making it very clear the IRB knew about my designation.
It always made me uncomfortable to be reminded of my place, but I also knew no one was trying to be rude.
Many people had never met an Omega, let alone an unbonded one.
And especially not one who wasn’t a teacher, employed at an Omega-focused nonprofit, or a sex worker.
Maggie, being the only Omega cop in the city, understood that pressure better than anyone.
“No. That part was fine.” I’d arrived at the stairs that led down to the train station, and I stopped just far enough down to escape the rain without losing my signal. I huddled close to the wall as commuters brushed past.
“Good. We’re still on for dinner this weekend, right? Celebrating the ‘big girl job’?”
I hesitated. Maggie meant well, and her pack was lovely, but spending time with a happy family was a challenge. Especially if the central activity was eating in a group setting, which was always tricky for me. But I wanted to stay friends, and that meant spending time together. “Of course!”
“Yay! Text me what you want Lucas to make, okay?”
“Oh, anything is fine,” I said vaguely. “Tell him to let his creativity go wild.”
Maggie laughed. “Fuck, he’s gonna love that. Tell Steffi I say hi!”
We said our goodbyes, and I continued down the steps as a train whizzed into the station.
I hurried forward with the rest of the crowd and jammed myself into the crush of bodies, so tightly packed I didn’t even need to hold on to anything, and focused on my breath.
The train car was, as usual, an unholy combination of scents.
The Alpha next to me smelled like wet woodchips, but my main concern was feeling like a human sardine.
Claustrophobia was not the worst legacy of my childhood, but it was a challenge.
It was also one of the reasons I was grateful I’d never had a true heat.
The thought of being in a nest — the small enclosed space filled with soft fabric and hot Alpha bodies that most Omegas craved during their heats — filled me with utter dread.
At this point, I hoped my body was well and truly broken enough to continue the irregular mini heats I’d grown accustomed to forever.
One day of bad cramping, with intermittent relief from my trusty vibrator, and that was that.
I would have appreciated knowing exactly when they were coming, but since I didn’t even have proper Omega perfume to worry about, the trade-off was worth it.
I forced my mind away from my discomfort and focused on Nathan Manalo instead. A hot kernel of determination flared in my chest. I would prove him wrong, over and over again, until he apologized for ever doubting me.