10 #4
“No,” I say. “I’m not that out of control anymore.”
“You do not seem like the paragon of self-restraint, Ellis.”
“I didn’t say I was in control or something, just that I’m better than I was.”
She sighs heavily.
I tangle a hand in my hair, tugging on my curls, feeling lost. It’s always like this with Callie. There’s this big burst of us together, some kind of eruption of emotion, and then we’re just ragged edges afterward, and there’s no way to tie things off.
I don’t know what to do or what to say.
“Look,” says Callie, “I don’t know if it’s possible, being happy.”
My gaze jerks up to hers. “What?”
“I know that sounds horrible,” she says, letting out a breath. “I think it’s different for betas. They have this steadiness to them, just this blandness. When they feel things, it’s not as intense as when we feel things.”
“That’s true,” I say. “I guess. But I don’t see what you mean by that.”
“Well, I’m saying that betas are satisfied with way less than people like us would be satisfied with. So, it’s way easier for them to be happy. And we live in a world created by betas, for betas, about betas. So, happiness might be attainable for them, but it might not be possible for us.”
“That’s just… no.” I shake my head.
“Think about the compound,” she says. “Think about all the omegas on the compound, and tell me if you think any of them were actually happy.”
I furrow my brow, thinking that through.
I want to say they all were. The community revolved around them.
They got the best of everything. In our household, Callie’s mom ate first. She got the best cut of meat.
She got the best bed, to decide how to spend all of the money that came into the house, and she had four alphas in her bed, all of whom were devoted to her.
But… Callie’s right. The stereotype of omegas in the Polloi is that they are never satisfied, that they constantly find fault, that they are insatiable and they always want more.
I rub my jaw. “You can’t be saying that just because we’re omegas, we can’t ever be happy. ”
“I think it’s more like recognizing that our disposition is volatile,” she says.
“We swing back and forth between extremes. You could try to make us like betas, try to level us out, and make it so we don’t have those extreme swings.
But that would be like you destroyed the most intense and best parts of us.
So, I think it’s more that you have to stop and notice when you’re swinging into one of those highs, the sheer bliss that we omegas feel.
You have to notice it and savor it. Enjoy it.
And don’t think, ‘How can I make it like this forever? How can I keep this?’ You can’t.
You enjoy it and let it go, because it passes.
And then, when you feel one of those insane lows, you endure it.
And you don’t think, ‘How do I make this stop? How do I keep this from ever happening again?’ You just breathe until it ends, because it always passes. ”
I think about this. It’s kind of eastern mindfulness, isn’t it? It’s not as if I’ve never heard of this kind of way of being. I guess it makes sense to some degree.
“Anyway,” she says, “I need to take my own advice, I guess. But I think you could have been happy with your alphas, if you would have noticed when you were happy and not wanted more happiness than what you were getting. You keep saying it wasn’t enough, but it doesn’t matter what you have, Ellis.
You’ll always want more than you have. That’s just what it is to be human.
Maybe it could have been enough if you were willing to try to accept it as enough. ”
“This is what you tell yourself with Andrew? That he’s not enough, but maybe you can convince yourself to settle?”
“This advice about not settling, it’s for betas,” she snaps.
“Betas are the ones who need to be jostled into getting in touch with their desires. Omegas are desire. We are want. Yes, sometimes, we should try to settle. Otherwise, we’ll just burn out trying to have things that are impossible to have. ”
I don’t say anything.
She sighs. “Well, it’s one thing to say it. It’s another thing to really live by it. Obviously, I’m not satisfied. Obviously, I’m never satisfied.”
I put my hands in my pockets. “So, what are you saying? I should go back to the alphas who bit me? You should go back to Andrew? We should just stop this with us?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I really don’t. But I’m twenty-seven years old, Ellis. I don’t want to be a really old mom. I am ready to take the next step in my life, and you’re… it’s like, whatever I do, you’re all I think about. I want to think about something else, anything else.”
I turn away, nodding, getting that. “Yeah, I hear that.”
“What if…?” She doesn’t finish what she’s saying.
“What if what?”
“What if we’re addicted to each other?”
I suck in a noisy breath through my nose, looking down at my feet. It tracks, I guess. “Well, if so, we tried cold turkey. I don’t think it worked.”
She laughs. “No, it didn’t.”
“What do we try now?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should get pregnant,” I say, and this kind of kills me, but also saying it feels like an odd bit of relief, something fluttering out of my chest. Let Andrew really have her.
If she had another man’s child growing in her, it might feel different.
Maybe it would sink in that she wasn’t actually mine.
“Maybe that would help to create distance.”
“I don’t know.” She comes to me. “What if it didn’t, though, and then I’m pregnant with his baby and still obsessed with you, but you’re disgusted because I’m pregnant—”
“I could never find you disgusting.”
“You find me disgusting constantly!” Her voice goes high-pitched.
Maybe I do.
She throws up her hands. “We’re not going to settle this. We’ve been trying for ages now, and we never get anywhere. I’m going to go get my husband and have him take me home. I miss him.”
Well, maybe I accomplished something. Maybe she’s letting Andrew come home, and maybe that’s because of me in some way?
She stalks off into the growing darkness towards the house.
I turn and stare at what remains of the sunset until I’m sure she’s got quite a head start on me. Then I head back, too.