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We all tended to eat on campus during the day and one day last week when we entered the cafeteria for lunch, there she was. Mason got all quiet and hyper-focused, making me trade seats with him so he could watch her without it being obvious. She was with her brother and a guy I assumed is one of his packmates. They were just eating and hanging out. We all had classes to get to, but Mason straight up ditched us so he could stay and watch her. The other guy left, but she stayed there with Leo—for a few hours, according to Mason.
The next day, she was back. And then again, the day after that.
It’s easy to see what drew Mason to her. She’s gorgeous, but understated.
Female omegas tend to have overemphasized ... feminine attributes, so to speak. “Curves you’d like to drive a car around,” as one of Cabe’s older brothers liked to say. That sure was confusing to my seven year old brain, but made a lot more sense once puberty hit. A lot of the omegas I’ve met also have a habit of dressing to impress. Most are born into pack families, which naturally have more wealth to shower on their children since packs often have between three and six breadwinners. Mason is super into all the biology stuff, and he enjoys studying what draws a pack together, but I’ve always been more interested in the socioeconomic side of it all. Not enough to, like, make a career of it or anything. My future is in computers for sure. But still, a stark minority of people blessed with clear financial advantages simply as a function of the family they’re born into ... Our society sure has some stuff to figure out.
Esperanza—or Espy, as Mason mentioned she likes to go by—is not a flashy dresser. Her curves, subtle. “Simple” sounds like a bad word to describe a woman I’m into, but I can’t think of a better one. Her features stand out all the more against her plain clothes and lack of makeup. She often looks small, and a bit terrified at times, but I swear there’s a spark there that shines through. I see it the most when she’s drawing. That’s when she truly seems to lose herself—lose the tension.
The three of us have without a doubt crossed the boundaries of politeness with the amount of time we’ve spent spying on her these past two weeks.
I’ve begged Mason to just go over and say hi, told him he can pretend to be looking to talk to Leo for all I care, but he won’t cave. He says she’s too afraid of alphas and he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I can appreciate that, of course. I’m not a monster. And what I know of her story makes me want to rip her father apart.
However, I’m not an alpha. And the pull I feel toward her is irresistible. When we came in for lunch today and I saw she was alone for once, I figured I’d take my shot.
I didn’t plan to ask her for help with my art, but seeing her talent and creativity with a pen has my wheels turning. “Let me go quickly grab the thing I need help with,” I say, thanking the stars I happen to have one of my comic drafts on me. “Wait.” I turn back to survey her table. “Have you had lunch yet?”
“Nope. Guess I got distracted.” That light blush is back, and I just want to grab her and rub my face all over hers so I can bask in it.
“Let me grab you something. Any allergies?”
“Uh—nope. I’m not picky.”
Perfect.
I hurry back to my table and grab my backpack.
“Dude.” Mason looks pissed, and I can practically feel the growl trying to escape his chest. Cabe, on the other hand, just looks intrigued.
“What happened, man? How does she smell?” He goes to grab my hand and give it a sniff, but I shake the big oaf off.
“Cabe,manners. No sniffing each other in public. I’m adding it to the pack rules tonight.” He sits back, pushing his tongue against his teeth in a rueful smirk.
“Dibs when we get home then.”
I laugh while Mason just shakes his head with a scowl. “That’ll have to wait.”
Before they can question me further, I’m back in front of Espy, my latest draft folder in hand.
“Tada!” I announce, setting it down in front of her with an exaggerated flourish.
She gives me a questioning look, which is fair enough.
“I write comics,” I explain, moving to open the folder. “This is one of my latest drafts I’ve been playing with. You’ll see the artwork leaves ... something to be desired.” I grin. That’s an understatement. I have zero artistic talent when it comes to drawing. I’ve tried using my computer to render a few graphics on some of my other comics, but the one in front of her now just has my own chicken scratch.
“Give it a look.” I tap the papers. “I’ll be right back once I grab you some food.”
With that, I turn my attention to the cafeteria.What to get, what to get ...?There’s something instinctually satisfying, I’m suddenly finding, about feeding an omega. I never paid too close attention in my Principles of Dynamics class in high school. There was a more in-depth class alphas and omegas were encouraged to take, but as a beta I opted out in favor of a computer programming elective.
I’ll have to ask Mason and Cabe for some tips. Or maybe they have a course here I could take to get up to speed? I make a mental note to check later.
I eventually decide on a grilled chicken panini and salad. Plus, a cookie. Who doesn’t like a little sugar? Espy looks engrossed in the pages when I make it back to her table. Hopefully, that’s a good sign.
“So, what do you think?” I prompt, scooting the food over to her as I settle into the opposite bench. “I’m a shoo-in for the Pulitzer, right?”
“Micah.” She looks up at me in concern, an adorable frown on her face. “There are literal stick figure drawings in here. It looks like a ... a five-year-old tried to—” She cuts herself off abruptly, eyes a bit wide.
“Go ahead, Esp. Keep stroking my ego like that.” I wink, not offended in the least.
