Page 14 of The Rejected Omega
He could find a way to see me regardless, of course. But my new, sobering reality was that he wouldn’t.
WEDNESDAY:
I asked Dad if something happened at the claiming. He said to talk to you. What isn’t he telling me, Birdy?
THURSDAY:
Do you want me to bring you notes from class?
He wrote terrible notes.
FRIDAY:
I left a thermos of my homemade chicken noodle outside your door yesterday. Mom’s recipe. I knocked, but no one answered. Maybe you were sleeping?
I made Ma Clover throw the soup away as soon as Connor’s car pulled out of the driveway. I couldn’t risk smelling Connor’s scent on the container and being overwhelmed or thrown back into that omega headspace. But it was a damn shame; that soup was delicious.
SATURDAY:
Why are you ignoring me? Is this because I didn’t show? I’m sorry, Lana. I should’ve been there.
SUNDAY:
We’ll go together next year, okay?
I resist the urge to throw my phone at the wall and break it all over again. I will never go to another mating ceremony.There’s no point. I know who my mate is, he just doesn’t want me.
I need to prepare for a life without him. I spent the week holed up in my room applying to new colleges. All of the ones we discussed going to together are off the table. A few more months, and high school will be over. I can move away and bury myself in work, school, and suppressants. I could put Connor Masters firmly in my rearview. I just have to survive until then.
CHAPTER FIVE
My first dayback at school is hell. I swear I can smell Connor in the hallways, even with the load of emergency blockers the hospital shot me up with.
I skip the classes we have together, thankful we chose different electives this year. In the past, we made sure our schedules matched up as much as possible. But this year, he wanted to take bodybuilding while I took figure drawing. He took AP Physics and I took AP Euro.
The thought of seeing him sends my stomach into knots.
I don’t think any of the other ceremony attendees were still in high school, but I keep my guard up regardless. A few people ask if I’m feeling better after my week out sick. A nasty flu, I tell them. I smile and nod. None of them see through it. Connor’s the only one who ever did. At the lunch bell, I follow the rest of the class to the cafeteria without thinking.
I thought I’d be able to handle it when I inevitably saw him again.
I was a fool.
I step through the cafeteria’s double doors and freeze.
He’s sitting across the room at a table with his friends. Not the table we usually sit at on red sauce days.
Cassandra is perched on Connor’s knee, and he has his large hands wrapped around her waist. The table laughs at something Cassandra says.
Iwhimper.
Alpha?
I can’t force my feet to move. Blood pounds behind my eyes, and the world goes blurry.
Sweat slicks down my brow. The cache of pain buried in my chest begins to crack back open. Like a freshly stitched wound being ripped apart.
Alphas begin to turn their heads as the scent of omega distress floods the cafeteria.
