Page 2 of Knot Your Basic B*tch

My brothers and sisters all had cool names… But by the time it got to me, all my parents just started to run out of creative steam.

It was like my other siblings had names taken straight out of the top most interesting names for up and coming alphas and omegas. Zane, Titus, Gunnar, Cash, Rebel, Avril, Bronze, Blue, Cashmere and Ember.

Then they got to me.

By then, they’d just collectively scraped the bottom of the barrel to think of something.

My name is Chloe.

Can you get any more basic and boring than that?

I have a sister who is literally named Rebel… How is it that my moms and dads could look at one of their infant babies and think that she was a badass Rebel. Then look at me and go.

Oh. Hmmm. That one looks like a Chloe!

The thought made something twist in my stomach.

If it wasn’t so noisy, I’d be able to eat the rest of my cereal and I wouldn’t feel hungry right now.

It made me so mad I was starting to feel hot. I shook my head angrily as I rummaged through piles of unfolded laundry, looking to find where my headphones could be.

Did someone knock over a bottle of perfume in here? Or laundry detergent? With all the noise, and the fighting downstairs, and the heat, this flower smell was the—

“Is somebody perfuming?” I heard someone scream from downstairs.

Oh great. More chaos.

I mean, that wasn’t fair. I’m sure that all my sisters were going to be thrilled.

Which sister was it this time? Blue was a little young. Was it Bronze? But she was at soccer practice…

Besides, the smell was coming from nearby.

I heard a rumble of footsteps and jostling, before the door to the laundry room slammed open and Gunnar, Titus, Zane, and Avril were falling over each other.

They all turned to stare at me.

“What?” I snapped at them.

None of them answered. Titus had an expression that was downright sheepish, as he rubbed the back of his head. Gunnar was staring at one of the laundry baskets like it contained juicy secrets rather than sweatpants.

Zane was my only sibling who cleared his throat to say, “we were trying to figure out who perfumed.”

“Yeah… and?”

I stared back at them expectantly, but they were all staring at me like I had grown a second head.

If they wanted to go find who was perfuming then why were they standing here staring at…

Oh.

Oh,no.

No, there was no way.

Iwas perfuming?!

That meant… that I wouldn’t ever get to have my quiet beta life. I was an omega. Most omegas grew up dreaming about their pack.