Chapter Five
Octavia
It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fine. Most folks wait years for a match.
Maybe I’ll be out of prison and can disappear before that happens.
I clench my inhaler in my hand tightly, a safety reflex. The prison transport stops outside the squat, gray stone building.
The Omega Concord testing facility.
I weighed the odds of being an omega, but Jesus, I guess I fucked up my risk calculations. The numbers had run through my head repeatedly. I probably won’t get matched. It’s fine, I had told myself. Wrong. I was so wrong. My chest feels tight, like I’m trying to breathe through a wet paper bag.
The guard opens the door, and when I don’t move, he simply reaches in and grabs my arm, tugging me out.
“WHAT DID THEY ASK?” Sue pokes at me as I stare listlessly at my dinner tray.
I force myself to pick up my fork to eat my canned pears. I don’t look up. “Lots. Personal shit.”
“I heard you might get women alphas!” she blathers on. “Do you swing both ways, O?”
My chest tightens, and I slide my hand to feel my inhaler in my pocket. The nurse had warned me not to overdo it. That it was anxiety and not asthma. I frown.
“Doesn’t everybody?” I mutter through a bite. “I don’t really wanna talk about this,” I say flatly.
“Aw, come on, we’re all so jealous!” Jill adds. “I’m gonna do the bloodwork. I hope I get the fuck outta here. Beam me up, big-dicked aliens!” She laughs.
I slam my fork down and stand.
I cannot deal with this.