Chapter VI
The only thing disrupting the silent stillness of the room is the sound of the dry-erase marker in my hand squeaking along the white board. My eyes are sharp, focused, and confident with every stroke of black ink as I finish the physics equation. X equals nine to the power of negative seven.
Once I’m finished, and I’ve double-checked my work, I silence the marker and take a step back. Mr. Muendo stirs behind me, dress shoes tapping the wooden floors until he’s standing at my side.
“Very nice work, Beckett,” the Alpha mumbles, hands clasped behind his back in assessment.
“Thank you, Sir.”
His approval allows me to exhale and he chuckles knowingly.
Ever since we met, he’s become such a strong role model to me.
He’s basically everything that I want to be in the future.
I want a job like his, suits like his, and a house like his.
Seriously, this place is freaking fancy with a capital F!
I’ve never been to a house that has its own study lab with microscopes and Bunsen burners.
“Father?”
We both turn toward the gentle voice from the doorway. My neck tingles as an Omega pokes his head in sporting youthful features that resemble Mr. Muendo’s. His scent is like adobo sauce and sunflowers. Based on the recognizable potency of maturity, I’d say he’s a couple years older than I am.
“What is it, Juanito?” Mr. Muendo’s accent thickens and his voice softens.
“The Becketts are here.” He steps aside, gesturing for my parents to enter the lab. Shocked to see them so soon, I glance at a clock above the white board, and sure enough, time flew by. I can’t believe they’re here to pick me up already.
“Hey, guys. How’s it going in here? Did you have fun?” my mom asks sweetly as the Omega lingers in the doorway, staring at me with interest.
“Yeah,” I grumble, embarrassed by the way she makes this seem like a playdate instead of a grown-up business meeting. I’m not here to have fun, I’m here to secure my future. This ain’t summer camp, I’m a man now, handling a business negotiation.
And in the presence of an Omega, I puff my chest, encouraged to show that I’m the provider here. I don’t need my parents coddling me forever. That’s my job as an Alpha. I do the coddling!
“Ready to go, Kid?” Dad asks, patting my shoulder.
I nod, catching the Omega’s eyes again. Why is he just staring at me? What’s his deal?
“He’s extremely talented,” Mr. Muendo tells my parents. “Be sure to get him enrolled in the engineering program when he’s sixteen. I’ll put in a reference.”
“Of course,” Mom agrees. “We want whatever is best for him and whatever makes him happy.” Embarrassing me some more, she reaches up to adjust my hair, messing up the way I deliberately styled it. I swat her hand away, cheeks growing hot from her pampering me around someone I’m trying to impress.
She rolls her eyes with a scoff.
“He’s growing up too fast on us,” Dad grumbles, staring at me with forlorn eyes that are almost level with mine as I grow taller.
“Tell me about it,” Mr. Muendo sighs, looking at his son the same. “Juanito just graduated Omega studies. Before I know it, he’ll be mated and moved out in no time at all.”
I glance at the Omega standing coyly outside of the conversation. My mom makes a sympathetic noise and then nudges my shoulder.
“He’s certainly an adorable Omega, isn’t he Knox?”
Face on fire, my eyes pop and my breath hitches. I stare at my mom like she’s gone mad before twisting my neck to glance at Mr. Muendo because surely, he won’t enjoy me saying anything remotely flirty about his son, but he’s smiling along with my parents.
The adults chuckle and Juan bows his head with fluster.
We need to wrap this up. Clearing my throat, I keep things professional, offering a handshake to Mr. Muendo, “Thanks for having me over.”
“Any time, Beckett,” the Alpha says, shaking my hand firmly with amused eyes. “We’ll meet again next month. Juanito will show you out.”
I look at the Omega again. His eyes land on mine and he licks his dry lips nervously.
“Right this way,” he tilts his neck, waving his arm through the threshold.
Ignoring the gesture, I walk past him into the hallway with my parents following behind me.
They remain quiet, but I know the lecture that’s coming when we reach the car.
It’s improper to disregard an Omega who bares their neck to you.
Unbothered, Juan closes the front door behind us and my dad sighs.
“You ought to learn how to act in the presence of an Omega, young man.”
“I don’t want an Omega. I want a secured future at Comet XI. Especially if you guys are going to embarrass me like that, I’ll be single forever.”
My mom laughs, but my mood is far from joking. Pouting in the backseat, I rest my elbow on the window and my cheek in my hand, staring at the fancy water fountain in the middle of Mr. Muendo’s driveway as we roll by it. Every time I see the color blue, I feel it deep in my chest.
Juan is cute, but he isn’t Arius. And he never will be. Nobody compares.
My reflection in the car window rolls his eyes at me. I hate when I say corny stuff like that too, and I wish my heart wasn’t such a drama queen. It’s just an organ responsible for pumping blood throughout my body. It’s not supposed to feel things.
“Dad, can we go to the gym when we get home?” my lips mumble.
I catch his eyes in the rearview mirror and he grins.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I suppose it makes for good bonding time, but I’ve mostly been using the punching bags to expel the rage in my system lately.
Outside of that, I don’t really like working out.
Muscles are muscles and as an Alpha, I’ll develop them either way.
I care more about astronomy and engineering than looking hot, but it’s a good way to let off some steam.
Excited to share a hobby with me, my dad doesn’t let me workout on my own as we set up in the corner of our local gym.
He assembles black punching mitts onto his hands and positions himself in front of me.
The scratchy rock music from the speakers fuels my energy and the need to punch something hard.
“I can just use the bag,” I suggest, nodding to the fifty-pound sack hanging from the ceiling.
“Nonsense. Back in my day, real Alphas used nothing but each other as punching bags. Come on, Kid. Give me all you got.” He holds up his padded hands for me to aim my punches at, but it’s impossible to unleash my true strength with my sweet, loving and caring, father’s face between them.
Hesitantly, I hold up my fists in front of my face like he taught me, pivoting on my left leg.
“There you go, buddy,” he hypes me up. “Don’t hold back on me. These gray hairs represent years of ass-kicking.”
I grin a little at his words but try to focus on what I came here for.
Eyes zoning in on the punching pads, I sock one with a quick jab.
Then the other. True to his word, my dad holds up as if I hit him with a feather.
So, I give it a little more. Two quick jabs left and right with a little more power. Dad doesn’t even flinch.
Getting into it, I punch faster and harder, fury seeping out as it finds an exit from my body. My black, sleeveless top begins sticking to me as I work up a sweat, pectorals burning from the overdue exercise.
“Use techniques, Knox. Don’t get sloppy.”
With a grunt, I ignore him and keep going. Fuck techniques. There’s nothing technical about how I feel. No scientific explanation for the way my heart cries, chasing something it can’t have. I feel so alone, not just physically, but emotionally.
Nobody seems to relate to–
“Ah! Dammit, Knox!”
I stop punching abruptly as my dad stumbles back, scrunching his nose where I accidentally hit him. Petrified, I step back, breathing heavily as I blink back to the present and wipe my brow.
“Sorry, Dad… I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah, no shit,” he complains, toughing it out. “You got me good; I’ll give you that.” Removing the pads, he reaches over to ruffle my hair firmly as we laugh it off. We move on swiftly, but I’m still reeling on the inside.
Note to self: handle my temper without anyone else around. I hadn’t even gotten fully worked up yet, meaning I can get even more violent than that.