10. A Second Date
A Second Date
Evangeline: Two Weeks Later
Paint drips on the floor, and I wipe it with my sock, leaving a streak of purple across the white wood. I take a step back, and Apollo follows, keeping close to my leg.
“What do you think? Perfect right?”
Apollo tilts his head and turns away quickly.
“Well. I would like to see you do any better,” I grumble.
I step further back, leaving a trail of paint footsteps in my wake, and take in the bright purple wall.
“So it’s a little patchy. It looks better than it did before.”
It really helps brighten up the place.
Apollo trots in a circle, giving the wall his butt before lazily lying on the ground. His new sparkly collar catches the light, reflecting off the newly painted wall, casting a purple glow over his body. He’s a big fan. Loved it from the moment I showed him.
It’s not good to lie.
Fine, he tolerated it. He’ll grow to love it.
I stretch my arms above my head, letting the creaks out of my back. I’ve been here all day, as well as every day for the past two weeks.
I like it here. Well, not necessarily the apartment, but the scent of my mate lingering in the air and the company of my best friend, especially since the raccoon decided that my shack wasn’t good enough anymore.
My mind isn’t as combative when I’m here.
The restless feeling doesn’t rush over my body, aching for me to run.
The need to rid the world of Alpha scum isn’t as strong, and I wonder if this is the effect of a mate’s scent.
Not only that, but I’ve been to school every day.
I’m hoping that by being on my best behaviour and with Alpha Cassius’ scent having such a positive influence on me, that I can ask to be put on the courting list.
The best part of this place, other than getting to catch up on the latest episode of Nested, is the snacks.
The fridge is always full. I guess I never realised, or paid attention to Auggie’s eating habits or those particular lectures in school.
I like cooking, but more than that, I love eating.
Food is one of those things that once you have been without before you will never turn down again.
One of my foster families tried to punish me for running by withholding food.
That was one of the last foster families I was placed with before Auggie took me in.
He found me passed out in the woods on the way to my shack.
I guess they thought that if I were hungry, I wouldn’t have the energy to run.
They were right in a way, but fear and I are close friends, and nothing stops me from running when my adrenaline gets going.
Alpha Cassius has every snack I could ever want. Salty and sweet, I’ve been working my way through each one, and I haven’t found a single one I hate yet.
My stomach grumbles mid-stretch.
“All this thinking about food has made me snacky. What do you say, Apollo, want a treat?”
He jumps up and follows me into the kitchen. I rummage around, picking at things until my plate is full and a number of them are dog friendly. Together we wander, plate firmly in hand (after one or two incidences of dropping food on the rugs), we make our way to our favourite lunch spot.
Alpha Cassius’ office.
It smells of him in here most of all, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s a bit of a workaholic.
He’s never home during the day, even on weekends.
His desk is something out of a supervillain movie.
A grand leather chair and a huge glass desk, which I have not let myself sit on because no matter how thick or sturdy it looks, like something I would somehow break.
I could choose the sofa, but it’s smaller and less comfortable than the one in the living room.
This one is clearly made for visual effect or to encourage people to leave.
Like the previous days, I opt for the floor, plonking myself next to Apollo. We dig into the assortment of treats I’ve put together. We eat until my stomach feels like it will burst, and Apollo is swollen belly up next to me, snoring his little head off. Nothing like a nap to fix a food coma.
As quietly as I can, I move around the room, using this time to spy on my mate and find out more about him.
His office is one of the few rooms filled with personal items. Photos of him as a child, medals from his time in the army, and awards for his security company.
A bright yellow sticky note catches my attention.
Stuck on the corner of his computer, the manly scrawl reads: ‘Second Date: Thursday 6pm. Restaurant on Bay View Street. Bring flowers.’
Second date.
Second date?
Second DATE!
Doesn’t he already know he’s been claimed? I don’t know how I could make it any more obvious. Does he not smell me? Is he defective? Can he not see the changes I’ve made? Or does he not care?
I rip the thing from the computer and slam it down on the glass desk. With a bright red permanent marker, I draw a cross through the words. Maybe that will get the message across.
* * *
Spending the night in my shed will not help prove my case to Auggie that I’m ready for courting. But I needed a night in my nest to calm down.
It had to be done.
My eyes sting, red raw after a night of crying.
My hair is a mess. I’m not even in uniform, and the clothes I am wearing are covered in paint.
I skulk through the school corridor like a Victorian ghost child.
Anger bubbles inside me, and every time I see an Omega, I want to rip out their throats at the thought that they might be the one going on the date with my mate.
Which is not ideal, seen as though I go to an Omega school.
My mind swirls trying to come up with plans and ideas, but I can’t keep focused on one long enough to finish the thought.
“As many of you have begun dating, I think it’s important that I remind you all of the rules.
” Omega Francesca, the new headteacher, stands at the front of the class.
Her hair is in an impeccable bun, and her suit screams professional and serious, but the scent she gives off, the smiles, the tone of her voice—they put everyone at ease.
“As a reminder, your chaperone is not there to make you uncomfortable or to report on anything you and your dates do. You are consenting adults. They are there for your protection—”
A second date. Will he like their scent? Are they going to sit next to each other rather than across? Will they go into their nest tonight smelling of MY ALPHA.
A grumble tumbles from my lips, and the girl next to me shifts in her seat. My nose wrinkles. The putrid scent of anger lingers around me like a dark cloud.
“—the next stage of courting will be an agreement to mate. This is not a decision you should make lightly. It should be freely given, without influence from the public, your family, or your peers. We ask you not to share your mating intentions. At the end of each month, mating announcements will be made—”
Will I be stuck here forever watching my classmates announce their matings one by one until I have to hear his name?
“—you do not have to mate. You can and are encouraged to wait until you have graduated. Your Alpha guardian will remain who it is now, but you will have the freedom to find careers and experience life. You should not settle for someone because you think time is running out—”
Tick, tick, tick.
“—this is an exciting time. Enjoy it.”
With a smile and a bow, she leaves. The room buzzes with excitement. Apart from the black hole that is me. The girls in front shuffle closer, and their squeals of joy are louder than the rest.
“I bet you’re going to be the first mating announcement.”
“You two are going to look perfect together at all those charity events.”
“Out of everyone, I’m not surprised he chose you.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I shuffle to the edge of my chair, ready to fall off if it means I get to hear more.
Omega Sadie (my archrival) sits surrounded by eight of her closest friends. She playfully slaps one of them on the shoulder.
“You’re being silly. He would have been lucky to mate any one of you.”
“I think you need to appreciate that you are going on a second date with the Alpha Cassius Atwood. He’s on the cover of a magazine at least once a week. And he chose you!”
“I am excited.”
“You should be!”
“But enough about me, you all have dates too this week, tell me.”
I hate her a little more. Why did she have to be nice? Why did she have to be better than me?
They hype each other up, hug, laugh and give advice. It’s everything I have ever wanted.
Friends.
Everything she has.
And now she’s going after my mate.
The one upside of not having any friends is that no one pays attention to me.
I leave through the front door, and not even the receptionist blinks an eye.
I walk until I am streets away, and only then do I call a taxi.
I’ve learnt over the years that they ask a lot of questions when they see me near the school.
I might not smell like an Omega, but I sure as hell look like one.
I can taste their curiosity, and the questions they ask make me nervous.
More than a few times I’ve contemplated hunting down those Betas.
They have the potential to be just as bad, just as toxic and dangerous as the Alphas I’ve killed.
I really need to learn to drive.
Like Auggie would let me on the road.
It doesn’t take long to get to the restaurant, or my brain distracted me enough not to notice the passing of time.
My line of sight is laser focused on the windows of the place.
The restaurant is small (intimate) enough that I can see its entirety from outside.
My heart aches at the romantic gesture. This is far from the casual vibe of the coffee shop.
The buildings surrounding it are taller, apart from the little clothing shop opposite.
Sticking to the walls, I make my way behind the building into the dark alley.
The cobblestone floor is uneven. I slow my footsteps.
Thankfully, this is one of the less creepy alleys I’ve been in, and cleaner.
The bins seem filled with ripped clothes and packaging, though the mannequin head sticking out from behind them makes my heart race.
“Got you.”
The emergency ladder access to the roof stands off to the side. My hands grip the cold metal, and I wish I had remembered gloves. Quickly, I make my way up to the roof. One rung at a time. This was a bad day to choose to wear jeans.
I practically launch myself over the top, terrified in case I have missed anything and also at the thought of what I might see.
Is there anything worse than watching your mate fall in love with someone else?
A cold wind bites at my arms. I wrap them around myself and sink onto the floor of the roof.
Dark. Cold. Alone.
If that doesn’t describe most of my life, I don’t know what does.
A sleek black car slows to a stop, and a lump sits in my throat. They step out together. Not touching, for which I’m thankful, but close enough that my heart gives a squeeze.
Alpha Cassius pauses at the entrance. His head moves, scanning the street, looking for something. I can see his blue eyes from here, and I swear he can see me. The corner of his mouth tips, and he whips around, letting the door close behind him, leaving me out here and himself in there, with her.
The later it gets, the more intimate it feels.
The night started with a respectful distance between the two and has now dissolved into light touches and lingering hands.
I wait for my body to automatically default to flight.
I want to run in there, or run away, but my body, for the first time, is stuck in freeze.