bittersweet green apples, rejection, and the mediocre life of a human

Chapter 5

I woke up the next morning with just a slightly weird, unpleasant feeling at the bottom of my stomach. Maybe it was the first stage of growing an alien parasite. Maybe it was the entire pint of ice cream I sobbed into last night. The anvil of what had happened Wednesday weighed on my chest, making it nearly impossible to sit up, let alone leave my bed and face the outside world, but if I made it through my recitation I was a free man for the rest of the weekend. Free to sit in front of my computer, play endless amounts of games, and pretend I'm not going to die alone, that is. Not free from the reality of my existence. As I boarded the bus, each ID scanning like an annoying, off-rhythm alarm clock, my thoughts began to take a darker turn. What was the point in going to recitation, or getting good grades so I could get a good job and live in a fancy apartment alone until I died, never managing the one thing I wanted so desperately? I know the world has a lot to offer, but as dependent and dumb as it was, I didn't want to see it alone. I wasn't sure if I had a whole lot to live for, but one thing was for sure:

I hated the universe for mating me to Kyle Summers, and I hated Kyle Summers even more.

Why couldn't I have an Omega? He'd understand what it was like to be at the bottom of the heap, what it was like to know you weren't even anyone's second choice - I really felt like humans were the Omegas of the world. He'd still have a pack that would love both him and his mate unconditionally. He'd share my sense of romance and adventure like any werewolf, and it wouldn't be dangerous to walk anywhere no matter the time of night with a werewolf by my side, no matter the rank. An omega would still be easy on the eyes - definitely not a three-hundred and eighty-five pound offensive lineman, but werewolves were all supernaturally gifted in the looks department; an Omega would still be tall and broad and out of my league, but at least he'd know what it felt like to be in my position. I didn't want some pompous Alpha who'd laugh at his own mate, no matter how much I may deserve it.

But better yet - Kyle Summers. I'm sure I wasn't what he was hoping for, and I could sympathize with that sentiment myself, but he could at least have some tact. I was sure that at the next Charity Gala, Heisman Trophy Ceremony, or whatever high profile event, I wouldn't exactly be the most beautiful thing on anyone's arm, but I'd do my best to go and smile despite hating shit like that! If he had things that mattered to him, I would throw myself at it and do my best even though I wasn't thrilled about dating a football celebrity. If he was really my soulmate, I would have done anything I needed to for him, I can't understand why he would hurt me like that - let alone understand why he would hurt anyone like that. It must have been easy having genes that make you tall, handsome, and buff as shit no matter what, but the least you could do was show some courtesy toward those who weren't as lucky. Or even pretend that you felt like they deserved to walk the same earth as you, instead of laughing at their existence the moment you dared allow yourself to be spotted, even if you didn't particularly care to be anyway. He hadn't asked me if I wanted to be mated to him, or even asked my name before spinning me around and laughing in my face! I hated football, I hated Alphas, I hated pompous assholes, and most of all, I hated Kyle Summers. I hoped he figured out how to kill us both with a rejection sooner or later so I could fold this shit hand I'd been dealt and move on, the sooner the better.