Chapter Two
Tristan
Itug my phone out of the pocket of my canvas jacket and tap the green button.
“Mr. Moore?”
“Yes?” I say to the sweet-sounding old lady on the other end of the phone. I hadn’t recognized the number.
“We need you to come back to the testing center.”
Oh, it’s the alien people.
“Uh, why?” I weave through people waiting for the museum to open. My tour shifts on Tuesdays are usually the busiest, and I’m a bit late. My bike was faster than the subway, turns out.
“You’re an omega, my dear. Congratulations! We need to do some further testing and a questionnaire, and we can start looking for your pack!”
I freeze, hand out to grab the side door. “I... what?”
“You’re an omega! You must be so excited!” She repeats, sounding like a grandmother who is congratulating me on making the honor roll.
Oh shit. I take a deep breath. Okay, okay. My mind races, as I stand, still frozen in shock.
Goodbye shitty, tiny apartment and frozen meals, right?
“Alright. Sure. Will this evening work?” I ask, stepping into the warmth of the museum. I wave at Josh, the security guy, who nods in his usual manner.
“Perfect, see you then!” she chirps.
Well, holy shit.