Page 31 of Want It All

‘Apparently the publisher – and therefore my agent – would prefer to milk it for all it’s worth. Thus, this .’ Dad waved his hand at the paper-covered lounge room.

He’d spoken lightly, but I knew him well enough to notice the slight slump to his shoulders, which meant he was genuinely upset. I twisted my lips; he’d written three-quarters of a new sci-fi novel over the last few months, and his eyes had lit up every time he talked about it. ‘I’m sorry, dad.’

‘Not your burden to bear, B. But thank you.’

‘How are Rose and Sebastian?’ mum said, shifting the subject.

Well, Rose likes to call me every time she’s in the bath now, and although we haven’t had phone sex again, I think about the way she sounds when she comes every fucking night, and I know enough about her now to have a decent stab at answering her credit card security questions.

And yesterday in the dining hall, Sebastian made toast and licked honey off his knife while holding eye contact with me, then asked what kind of sandwiches I preferred, and did I like the filling or the outside better or did I not mind , and no, he was absolutely not talking about actual sandwiches.

Rose and Sebastian are a danger to any human with a heartbeat and I’m currently spending every spare moment planning a movie night in the secret hope that I might actually get to kiss Rose for real.

She told me she’s kissed Sebastian twice now, and I am simultaneously turned on by it and so jealous I could die.

I was obviously not going to say any of that to my mother, so instead I answered: ‘I think they’re fine.’

My mother looked up from her tablet screen. ‘Hmm.’

‘ Hmm what?’ I collapsed to sprawl in the only armchair not covered in dead trees.

‘Just hmm .’ Mum studied me for a moment, then changed tack. ‘I got an interesting email the other day.’

I quirked an eyebrow. ‘What kind of email?’

‘The kind that my Executive Officer insisted I read immediately.’ Mum turned the tablet around so that I could see the subject line and sender.

‘Tristan sent you an email?’ I said, bewildered, then took the tablet when she offered it.

And almost crushed the thing when my fingers began to curl into fists.

‘Heathcote did what ?’ I snarled. ‘ Fifty-two? Rose? Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Okay, Mr. Hyde, pipe down,’ my mother said, completely unperturbed. ‘So Tristan’s concerns are legitimate, then.’

‘Entirely. Rose couldn’t get that kind of mark if she tried.’ I scanned the email once more before I handed the tablet back, noting its dispassionate tone and the dates and times Tristan had provided for other notable incidents, along with the fact he’d copied in the Banksia House board .

Tristan Grace was apparently scared of nothing.

‘I can verify everything Tristan says, though Rose didn’t tell me she got fifty-two. Fuck, it must have been killing her.’

‘You know her so well?’

I looked across to see that dad had stopped reading through an article and was studying me with a hopeful look. ‘I, ah,’ I started hesitantly. ‘I know her well enough to know she’s a high achiever. That isn’t a mark she’d get under usual circumstances.’

‘Then a re-mark it is.’ Mum didn’t sigh, though I knew how much extra work remarking an entire cohort would be, especially because there would need to be extra checks, and she’d have to manage Heathcote’s reaction, along with complaints from students whose new mark might be worse than the first. She simply grabbed her laptop from the side of the couch and opened it.

She liked reading on a tablet but refused to write on it; everyone in my family had their little quirks.

‘So … breakfast?’ I queried. ‘Or has dad already eaten all the bacon?’

‘No, but only because we haven’t cooked it yet,’ my dad answered, going back to his article. ‘Do you want some help?’

I tried to groan, but it turned into a laugh instead. Sneaky fucker . ‘I’ll remember this when I’m putting you both in a nursing home.’

Mum snorted. ‘That was Tina’s favourite threat,’ she said, her voice at once fond, and very, very sad.

I fled to the kitchen before I could see her tear up.

I heard her sobs anyway, even over the sizzling of the frying pan. Dad was murmuring to her, and if I went back out there, I knew I’d see his arms around her, and mum crying for the daughter she missed so fucking much.

It was my fault, I knew. Mum could hold it together like a trooper until I was there.

Because Tina and I had looked so similar – all dark hair and grey eyes and matching smiles – and we thought the same way, too.

We loved the same TV shows, read the same books, played the same sports.

There was only a year between us, after all.

We’d both revealed our designations far too early: Tina at fourteen and me at thirteen.

I’d revealed a month after Tina, as if something in my body had kicked into overdrive, knowing I’d have to protect my omega sister.

And I had, for years. No one fucked with Tina, because her scrap of a brother stood like a shadow behind her, always ready to bloody someone’s nose with his fists.

Until.

Until. Until .

It didn’t matter that it had been seven years ago.

It could be seventy and the grief would still be there, lurking just below the surface, waiting for an opportunity to smash our hearts again, again, again.

Tina simply wasn’t the kind of person who faded .

Even now, her voice was so sharp in my memory that she might have been standing beside me.

You don’t cook bacon like that, B. Fuck, who raised you?

I fried some eggs and got the hashbrowns out of the oven. By that time, mum had recovered enough to get the juice from the fridge while dad made me a coffee, going through the everyday motions as if they hadn’t just broken open with grief.

‘I have to tell you something, mum. But before I do, I want you to know that I think you should let it happen.’

She frowned at me, setting the salt and pepper on the table. ‘That sounds ominous, B.’

‘It’s less ominous and more illegal. But I think … I think it could be a good thing for some of the students here.’

Her frown deepened. ‘Okay. I’m listening.’

‘There’s going to be a scent party tonight,’ I said. ‘In the gardens. They’re illegal –’

‘Because of the Alpha Gathering Act,’ my mother said, nodding. ‘I know. But you want me to let it happen? Why?’

‘Apparently, the old Dean was a stickler for the rules. But some people here want packs, and they won’t be able to know who might suit them until after they leave Banksia House.’

‘Why should I support my students forming packs? They’re here to study.’

I shrugged. ‘It would settle some of the alphas down, for starters. Allow them to make better informed choices, maybe. And it might be good for philanthropy.’

‘Because people donate more money when they have fond memories of a place,’ my father interjected, serving himself a larger-than-necessary portion of bacon. Lucky I made extra; checkmate, dad . ‘Imagine the endowments you could get if some of the students here packed up.’

‘That’s right. And it’s … It’s so strange, being completely without human scent. I feel like I’ve got one hand always tied behind my back. One night without blockers would be …’ I trailed off, thinking about the right word. ‘Freeing.’

‘And what did Dr. Ford think about it?’

I shook my head wryly. My mum was too good. ‘You know he wouldn’t advise me either way about something like that. But he did say that he thought I was in full control.’

‘Of course you are,’ mum murmured. ‘We’re so proud of you, B.

’ She considered her eggs for a moment, pricking the yolks with her fork so that yellow-gold spilled across her plate.

‘Fine. I’ll let it happen – within reason.

I’ll ask for an extra security team tonight, and they will be in the outskirts of the garden and patrolling the halls.

Any hint of discomfort from a beta student or Rosemary, and I pull the plug immediately.

And there will be a curfew, depending on levels of rowdiness. ’

‘Thanks, mum,’ I said, meaning it, sipping on my coffee.

‘Will you go with Tristan?’

‘Pravin, actually. Tristan and I aren’t … friends. We just kind of put up with each other.’

‘That’s a shame,’ dad mused. ‘Tina always said you’d need an alpha as strong as you are, so you could let down your guard every once in a while.’

This time when my mum cried, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and let her tears fall on my shirt.

I felt odd twelve hours later, after missing two doses of blockers. My scent clouded around me, a little thicker than it should have been, perhaps because of the nerves churning in my stomach.

I had no fucking idea what I was nervous about, but there was something in the air, as if everyone was full of the same mix of anticipation and excitement.

When I passed other alphas in the corridor after lunch, they inhaled, hoping against hope for the rush of adrenaline that came with finding a complementary scent.

I took a shower, catching myself as I reached for the scent-cancelling body wash.

This is what it was like before the Unveiling , I thought, bypassing my scent-cancelling spray and throwing on clean clothes, then pressing some buttons on my monitors to let my APF team know I was attending a party and my heartbeat might be erratic.

I’d still have to check in every hour, but that was easy, no more than sending a code via the monitors, then letting them know when I was about to go to bed.

A knock sounded on my door. ‘Ready?’ Pravin called.

‘One sec.’ I shot a text to Rose, who knew what was happening and who had triple-locked and barricaded her door at my request. Have a good night. Wish me luck.

She responded a moment later. Why is there a security team prowling up and down my corridor?

I chewed on my lip. That might be because of my mum. Sorry.

I stared at the three dots until her next message came through. No worries. It’s good, actually. I can hear music, and I think I’d be nervous if they weren’t there. Good luck, Byron .

Pravin inhaled as soon as I came through the door.

‘You, too?’ I said, smiling.

‘Can’t hurt, right?’ He sniffed. ‘Oof. That’s sweet. Like, I think I just got a cavity.’

‘I take it you prefer savoury?’

‘Nah, I’m a lifestyle scent.’ Pravin held his wrist out, and I caught the notes of sunshine on freshly washed linen. Nice, but it didn’t make my alpha pay attention.

I clapped him on the back. ‘Too bad. You would have been a good packmate. I bet my complementaries are all assholes.’

He grinned. ‘My parents always say you get the pack you deserve.’

I laughed, and we headed downstairs together.

I didn’t know how they thought they’d ever keep the party a secret, because dance music was blaring through the gardens, and there were alphas with drinks in hands standing in front of the maze.

It was still early, but it looked as if a few of them had already turned to liquid courage; inhibitions were dropping.

A few alphas were making the rounds, blatantly sniffing wrists, some looking more and more crestfallen each time.

Which was why it was dangerous to get your hopes up. Everyone wanted a scent match, but you had as much chance of winning the lottery.

‘Oh .’ Pravin grabbed my arm. ‘Can you smell that?’

I glanced at him; he wasn’t looking at me. ‘I can smell a lot of things, man.’

‘Leather.’ He inhaled. ‘Leather and hay. Oh, shit .’

Just like that, he dropped my arm, disappearing into the garden, and I was left alone.

I sighed, but figured I may as well stay out for a bit.

The night was warm, and I swiped a can of soft drink from the fountain, which some enterprising soul had filled with ice.

The air was thick with scents, battling with the lemon myrtle from the maze.

Some of them were nice – freshly baked cookies, strawberry syrup, even a toffee that smelled fairly similar to my own scent – but none did anything much for me, not like Sebastian’s mouthful of cherry had.

Fuck, I wished he was out here, so that I could smell him properly and see whether we were complementary.

Then we could talk – at length – about sandwiches.

Some scents made my nose itch – there was a cloying rose that gave me all kinds of conflicting feelings – but some were downright turn-offs: a too-strong jasmine that almost made me gag; a peaty whiskey that burned my throat; and even – though I could barely believe it – a strong, sharp cheese.

That’s unfortunate .

The overwhelming mass of them started to make my stomach churn, so I turned into the maze, where the lemon myrtle blocked most of it out.

It was pitch black, but in a comforting way.

The night was clear, and when I looked up, I could see the stars.

I could still hear the music, and I figured it was the perfect place to hide for a little while, until I could call it a night and find a barrage of memes to torment Rose.

I knew there was a bench not far into the maze, and I let my eyes adjust to the dark as I took the twists and turns to find it.

Once I did, I pulled my eReader from my pocket and got comfortable.