Page 8

EIGHT

Playing: Last Night’s Mascara by Griff

I wake up to my head pounding and a bright light practically blinding me.

I groan with confusion. I have blacked-out curtains specifically for my trips. Why the hell is the sun in my eyes?

I peek an eye open and catch a glimpse of baby blue walls and an array of critically acclaimed movie posters, which tells me I somehow ended up in the living room. All of Rory’s favorite movies start to blur together as I study them, trying to collect myself.

There’s a throbbing sensation as I try to move. Before I’m all the way up, I feel something wet touch my arm.

“Drink.”

Shit . I know that tone. It’s the ‘Stacia messed up’ tone.

I turn slightly to see my best friend trying to hand me a water bottle.

Her face is impossible to read, but she wouldn’t be very good at what she does if she didn’t have control of her face muscles.

I don’t need to read her expression, anyway.

Her usually-sweet cranberry scent is harsh in the air, letting me know just how upset she is.

I must not move fast enough because I feel the bottle being put to my mouth. The second the cold liquid touches my tongue, I grab the bottle and suck it dry. Then a little pill finds its way into my palm and I take it, knowing it’ll make me feel better.

“You scared me last night,” Rory says. Her words are stern, but her hand finds my back. She soothes me and I feel grateful, but also a little bit sick. She’s always taking care of me.

I cringe. “Do I even want to know what happened?”

“Probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyway,” she quips.

“You came into my room and woke me up, talking nonsense. Something about spiders chasing you.”

My heart pounds. I definitely don’t remember that. The awful mood I was in before my trip must have made me lose my mind a bit. I normally remember my trips in pieces, but I can’t seem to figure out what happened right after this one started.

“I’m so sorry—” I start to say but she raises a finger to stop me. She reaches down below her and pulls out an empty vodka bottle.

Oh.

“You smelled like vodka, but I knew that alcohol alone wasn’t making you like that. So I asked you.”

I hang my head in shame.

“You lied to me.” She only barely keeps the tremor of emotion out of her words, but I hear it.

She puts the bottle on the coffee table and crosses her arms. “And not only that, but you are mixing that stuff with things you shouldn’t.

Smoking on it, fine. I get it. But drinking while you’re on acid? ”

I don’t even remember drinking, but that explains the gaps in my memory.

“I didn’t like seeing you like that. It took a long time for you to calm down.

You were so paranoid that something was hunting you.

So, when I finally talked you off the ledge, I let you rest here and went to your room.

” She looks at me, a bit of uneasiness etched through her features. “You have to be done with Derek.”

That’s when I remember.

The texts.

“Did you read them?” I ask her, feeling very shaky all of a sudden.

She nods gently.

“I was ignoring him.” I shrug, listing the usual line of defense. “I wasn’t being a good girlfriend.”

“You aren’t his girlfriend anymore. Please , this has to end.” She puts her hand in mine and interlaces our fingers. “I want my best friend back. He has fucked with you long enough. Please let me help you.”

I want to scream yes but something in me hurts. Some deep and subliminal part of me thinks this is it. This is what I deserve.

Derek is who I deserve.

My parents knew it. He knew it. I’m not a good person, and I don’t deserve to be with good people. I’m selfish and I only pay attention when I want to. I don’t care about others’ feelings. If I did, I would be more mindful of my surroundings, of others’ feelings.

“What if he’s the only alpha that’s ever going to want me?” I think out loud.

“That’s literally impossible.” She squeezes my hand some more, pulling me out of my head so I’ll look at her.

She looks tired and her eyes are redder than usual, almost like she’s spent the night crying.

“You are destined for an extraordinary pack. You have to believe that. And if you don’t, I will remind you every single day until you do. ”

I finally let a few tears fall, nodding my head.

She’s right. It’s time. No more letting Derek upset me. No more letting him manipulate me.

It’s time to end it. For good this time.

“Can you come with me?” I ask her.

I wish I was strong enough to do it alone. I used to be, I think. But Derek knows how to shine light on all the right insecurities to get me to stay. He exposes my doubting thoughts and tries to confirm to me that they are true.

“Of course,” she says. “Right after we get something to eat.”

We walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk of College Row. When I see the letters of Alpha Xi come into focus, a bout of nausea threatens to come up. In the late night, I had failed to recognize the building. I feel sick just thinking about it.

Having trouble staying present has always been difficult. Most people who know me consider it a part of my personality. I’m often lost in my own world. But it’s been different these last few months; it’s happened more often. Chunks of time lost to me, like I’m working on autopilot.

I don’t notice we’re in front of the door until Rory is ringing the doorbell. It’s almost noon, and I’m hoping most of the frat brothers who were up late partying are awake and don’t mind the intrusion.

The door opens and the frat president is there, his calming apple scent feeling much warmer than a typical alpha. He gives us a soft smile when he recognizes us.

I like to call him Samwise in my head. The Lord of the Rings character is one of my favorites ever written and Sam gives off the same vibe to me. Loyal. Strategic. Over the world’s bullshit.

“You doing okay, Stacia?” he asks, and I realize he and Rory have already exchanged the casual small talk.

I just smile and nod, trying not to think about the inevitable conversation I’m about to have. “Is Derek here?”

“Yeah, I can go get him.” He opens the door wider and invites us in before leading us to the living room.

Before Sam can walk away, Rory beckons him over and lowers her voice so only we can hear. “Things might get a bit tense in here. Is there any way you could… stay nearby? Or get a few of your members to standby just in case things get out of hand?”

I fight the heavy sigh that threatens to escape. I know she’s right. Derek is volatile. It makes what I’m about to do feel like a big deal.

I mean, it is a big deal, if the feeling my omega is sending through my body is anything to go by.

“Of course.” Sam doesn’t even hesitate. It makes me take another look at him. Derek was never very nice when talking about Sam. I’d argue with him about it in the beginning, but it got taxing very fast.

I wonder now, sadly, if I’m not the only person Derek has inflicted with his hatred.

We sit on one of the loveseats to wait. You would never guess that a horde of men live in this house, much less that they had a raging party the night before.

The place is spotless and there must be an assortment of scent neutralizers in the air because I feel oddly comfortable amongst the old books and their smell.

I take in another whiff, letting the vintage ease into my body.

It grounds me, making me feel calm but also courageous.

There’s a hint of something else simmering in the air, too. Is someone making tea?

I smell him before I see him. A whine tries to come up my throat when the comfortable scent gets obscured up by the odor of murky waters. My stomach turns to knots.

It’s fear. He’s made you fear him , my omega reminds me. I don’t speak to her very often, but she’s strong in my chest right now. Eager.

“Stacia.” I turn to look at Derek. He’s got a splint covering his nose, and there’s little splotches of purple in the corners of his eyes.

I get a weird satisfaction at seeing that his night didn’t go nearly as well as he wanted me to believe.

“What happened?” I wince at my involuntary question, because I don’t actually care what happened, it just feels natural to say whatever I can to avoid conflict with him. I realize I’ve taught myself to say things I knew he would like throughout our relationship, like a “good omega.”

I realize there are some things I’ll need to work on now. Things that he changed in me that I didn’t notice before.

“I’ll tell you alone,” he responds while side-eyeing my best friend.

Rory just glares at him, her arms crossed. “Nice try, but I’m staying right here.”

Derek stands oddly still, returning Rory’s glare. It’s uncomfortable and silent for a minute before I huff and stand up.

“She’s not going anywhere. This won’t take long anyway.” I take another sniff of the air, trying to isolate the lovely book smell so I can muster up more courage. “Just tell me what happened so we can move on.”

He looks infuriated that I didn’t heed his command. He scrunches his nose and winces when it hurts him, his angry eyes meeting mine. “I got into it with that beta you were talking to. Then, his pack mate hit me.”

Ciro . The thought of the beautiful beta gives me butterflies. Then I feel sad. He must have been so confused. I feel bad that I might have ruined his and his pack mates’ night because of Derek and I’s toxic mess of a relationship.

I don’t exactly know what to say. Derek’s scent continues to soil the lovely vintage smell in the room and makes me want to hurl. I should have known this wasn’t going to work from that fact alone. Scents are very important to omegas and I’ve been ignoring my distaste of his for so long.

I feel tongue-tied, but then my omega is helping me open my mouth and the words are out before I can question them.

“Derek, it’s over.”