CHAPTER 3
“Feeling good as hell.”
Everett
I pride myself on maintaining a positive attitude to all things in life.
Take my job, for example. Most students would rather roll in fox shit than start work at four a.m. As we have already established, I am not most students.
Getting a job at the local coffee shop right next to campus has been a gift from the goddess.
Especially since it is walking distance from campus and my dorm.
Sure, I can’t stay up late or go partying as much as I might have liked, but it's a sweet deal.
I get paid to do the thing I love the most, and it never interferes with my classes.
In fact, the experience and practice I get as a culinary arts student, with a speciality in pastries, is invaluable.
I may have an extra skip in my step this morning, being that it's Friday, my last shift of the week, and tonight Christopher and I are going to the singles’ night at the new bar down the street.
Well, I guess it's an old bar with new owners and a facelift. Either way, I’m excited.
I manifested extra hard this week. I really think there's a chance tonight is the night I find my mate.
It has to be soon, I just know it. I’m even getting phantom wisps of the most incredible nutty chocolate scent. I have no idea where it's coming from and it's usually when I'm in the cafe alone. The only explanation is that the universe is sending me a sign that my mate is close.
Which is why I plan to finish work, complete my classes, and hit the mall to find a jaw-dropping outfit. I might even take a trip to Whole Foods and grab a bag of walnuts to take with me tonight. Not for luck, because I don’t need luck, I have the fates and the universe on my side.
“You look absolutely phenomenal Ev, but are you sure you want to bring the walnuts? Those pants are pretty tight.” Jack asks, his head tilted to the side like an inquisitive little rabbit.
It’s so cute when he does that. My eyes drop to the pockets of my white jeans.
They are pretty tight and the outline of the walnuts I’ve stuffed deep into my pocket is stretching the fabric enough to give the impression I have giant balls.
“Of course, I mean who doesn’t like nuts?
What if I do find my mate, sitting alone at the bar, sipping a beer or maybe a whiskey?
Even though we scent each other, conversation is hard.
I might need an ice breaker. I can be like “Hey you wanna play with my nuts?”” I shrug, fishing them out of my pocket with great difficulty.
These pants really are tight. I want to bring them with me.
I think my mate will appreciate them as much as I do.
Especially after I have fondled them long enough to make them shiny. These are my favorite pair.
“Oh, I have an idea,” bouncing on the balls of my feet as I rotate a full three-sixty on the spot, eyes searching my side of the dorm room to find the perfect accessory.
Spotting it hanging over my bed post, I grab hold of the strap and hold my bum bag above my head. “Genius!” I proclaim before giddily stuffing my walnuts inside and strapping it around my waist. Now I have a silver bedazzled bag to carry my nuts that also doubles as a snazzy accessory.
Paired with my tight, white jeans and a white, sheer shirt that is hella sexy and practical. The light material allows my scent to flow freely. I am definitely not taking any chances of missing my mate tonight.
Jack giggles as I pose in the mirror. “You look great, I hope you find your Alpha.” He tells me, a strange sadness in his voice.
“Why don’t you come with us?” I offer for the hundredth time. I can see how much he wants to go, but something is holding him back.
Shaking his head, he moves back to perch on the edge of his bed.
“Not tonight, I have a lot of work to catch up on, next time.” He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. As much as I want to push and pry it out of him, I won’t.
Jack is a nice guy. He will tell me when he’s ready.
At least I hope he will. I want to be a good friend to him.
Which means I need to earn his confidence and trust. Maybe I’ll go through my hoard this weekend and find Jack a set of walnuts.
Everything always seems easier to process when I have weighted balls in my hands.
Hopefully, it will help Jack figure out what's bothering him, or at least show him I am a friend, the kind of friend that will let him play with my nuts. I can be trusted.
“Alright, next time we will dress you up and get you your mate. Figure out what you are looking for and we can manifest the shit out of it for you. I will even let you borrow my nuts.” I grin, checking my outfit one more time. “Okay, wish me luck”
“Good luck Ev, go get your man.” He tells me, giving me an enthusiastic double thumbs-up. I beam back at him then head for the door with a swish of my hips and a song in my heart.
Christopher is waiting for me outside my building, leaning against the brick wall with one leg bent at the knee, phone in hand. Likely scrolling Vikvok or checking Slategram and Novel for any interaction on his latest video.
As well as being a phenomenal chef in the making, Chris makes the most incredible jewellery.
He sources gems and precious stones from all over the world before molding them with silver in unique and intricate designs.
He films the whole process and uploads a highlight reel for every piece he creates.
While exuding confidence in the kitchen and during class, my best friend has an unnatural dependency on social media to feed his soul and affirm his efforts when it comes to his true passion.
He will spend hours - when he should be studying - refreshing his feed over and over, obsessing over the view count and likes.
I’ve told him so many times how talented he is, that he doesn't need to wait for approval from strangers before putting an item up for sale.
Never once has he created a piece that didn't sell within the first hour.
His stuff is truly exceptional. I just wish he could see it for himself.
Deciding tonight was not the night to get into that shit again, I whistle loudly to announce my presence and get his attention.
It works better than I could have imagined.
Jumping almost into his fur, as a wolf omega it’s rare his senses aren't on point, so when he screams, dropping his phone, I double over laughing.
“You asshole.” He grumbles rubbing at his chest with one hand while scooping up his phone with the other.
Instead of responding, I wrap an arm around him, hugging him to my side as we turn toward the street.
Unlike me, Christopher is not out to find his mate, and his outfit is a reflection of that.
It just shows how good of a friend he is that he is happy to come with me tonight.
Even if he is dressed like he’s attending a 90s emo night.
Although the smudged eyeliner, ripped jeans, and multiple chain necklaces look is really working for him.
By the time we get to The Howling Grizzly, there’s a line wrapping around the building to get in.
Which is both a blessing and a curse. It’s great that so many people have shown up, the more people here, the more chance of me finding my Alpha.
Standing outside in the cold, however, is not my favorite thing, especially wearing a sheer shirt, but I do try to see the positives.
Waiting in line gives me time to chat with my bestie, compliment the guys and girls next to us in the queue, and make some new friends.
We speculate if the event will happen again given how popular it has turned out to be.
Or if our potential mate is in the very same line that we are.
At first, it’s really not that bad. I enjoy talking to people, getting other perspectives and opinions.
Every day you can learn something new if you just ask the right questions, after all.
Unfortunately, the longer we wait, the less upbeat and positive I feel.
Even Christopher starts to get restless, and he’s the most laid back person I know.
It takes almost two hours to get inside, the staff at the door working on a one-in-one-out basis because the place is so full of hopeful singles.
It quickly becomes overwhelming, and I wonder if they are breaking the fire code on the building.
I never came to the Electrabea, the bar that was here before.
A sports bar never appealed to me, even if their main window was painted like some animal print fever dream.
I just couldn’t bring myself to go inside, so I have no idea if this is the size of the crowd they are used to or if this is a health hazard.
Inside is very sleek, or maybe chic is a better word.
Stone coloured walls that almost give a pearlescent sheen, black leather seating with dark walnut wood floors.
It feels both welcoming and relaxing with a touch of luxury.
I really like the vibe. I’m sure the drinks are amazing, probably hired a mixologist or something, not that I’m likely to find out given that the queue for the bar is at least ten people deep, with the food station not much better.
The chances of getting a seat are slim to none, and to say I’m feeling discouraged and disappointed is an understatement.
There is no way I’m going to be able to scent my mate in this crowd.
Surely, whoever organised this event must have realised that with so many people all in the same room the likelihood of successful matches is low.
Hell, even if someone did scent their mate, how would they pick them out short of walking up to every person in a meters’ radius and sniffing at their neck?
I appreciate they have vents or something, maybe a spell above the food station to emanate the smell of food, distracting sensitive noses, but being that I am vertically challenged in this environment, the only thing reaching my nose is the drink in everybody's hands.
At one point I could have sworn I caught that devious scent of chocolate dipped nuts, but after three laps around the whole place, bathrooms and everything, the scent never got stronger or pulled at my squirrel to come out and play.
So with a heavy heart, I gave up and let my bestie take me back to his apartment and console me with pizza and ice cream.
“Maybe it’s one of those, when you least expect it kind of deals?
” Christopher mumbles around a mouthful of Ben and Jerry's Fish Food ice cream, spoon still hanging out of his mouth.
Not wanting to get pizza all over my white jeans and shirt I changed into a pair of Christopher's sweat pants having to roll up the bottoms so I didn’t trip on the access fabric and an old band t-shirt.
They smell of him, the familiarity of it comforting.
I am a sad squirrel and I will take all the comfort I can get.
We sit cross legged on the living room floor, coffee table covered with our treats.
“I know he’s close though Crissy, I swear I can feel it in my heart and that scent I keep catching is mouth watering.
I just wish I knew where he was hiding.” I explain with full conviction.
Rubbing his socked foot against mine he smiles.
“Then he is close, I will not doubt you oh wise one” this time he offers me a wink with his grin and damn him, it makes me smile.