I finish getting ready for school and reach for my backpack when my phone rings. It's Kara. I answer, "Hello." Even though I wasn't interested in her problems I would be lying if I say I'm not curious. If they are fated mates, it'll be a huge news. She exhales deeply. They are not mates. "We are not mates," she says. "Told you the chances were low," I say. "You're not helping," she says. "I wasn't trying to. Now see you at school."
The first thing I enter my school Dalton hangs his arm over my shoulders, adding more weight on top of the heavy backpack I was already carrying, and asks, "So, Jean, are they?" He's the second son of our Beta. Also, Roger's BFF, and the last person in my circle of popular "friends." In spite of mulling over it from time to time, I still can't pinpoint why they are friends with me. Kara, too, is famous for her looks, boyfriend, and her dad who is our pack's chief trainer. It's like one day we were plopped into the same playpen when we were kids and they refused to stop playing with me since then. I'm not complaining. Not entirely. There are benefits to being around them, and then there are the cons. Sometimes I feel like an unpolished glass piece near high-grade diamonds.
"Has he finally ditched you now that he's an adult and gained some wisdom?" I ask Dalton.
"What? No! My boy would never break up with me," he says.
"Then go ask him if they are mates or not instead of bothering me the first thing in the morning."
He pulls my hair causing me to cry out in pain. Then he joins a group of particularly attractive freshman girls for a chat. They surround him like moths to a fire. One thing I like about Dalton is he's an open book. He likes to play around with girls, is arrogant and doesn't shy away from acting so. You never have to worry if he means it or not when he says something.
Our Chemistry teacher turns to the blackboard. She starts to illustrate covalent bonds with a screechy chalk. I already know what she's teaching. She usually spends most of her class turned to the blackboard drawing atoms and molecules. I've always had a feeling she wanted to be an artist but life gave her Chemistry instead. But, hey, at least she's making the best of both worlds. Bored, I look at the empty seat behind Kara. Then at Dalton who is sitting behind me. "Where's your boyfriend?" I ask him. He shrugs. "Probably at a salon doing his nails for the party tonight," he says. I muffle my giggling and turn back to the front. I look at Kara. She's uncharacteristically quiet.
"You know there was a good chance this was going to happen, right?" I ask her when we're in the restroom. She's fixing her hair in front of the mirror. "I know," Kara says. She looks around checking if anyone else is in here with us before saying, "But I was so sure we were mates. How else could we feel the way we feel for each other if we are not mates?" I roll my eyes. Kara is a confident girl with a strong, sometimes stubborn, personality, but when it comes to Roger she turns into a puppy that keeps running after him with its tail wagging and glistening huge eyes. "Save your declaration of undying love for Roger for when you see him. Why isn't he at school anyway?" I ask. She replies, "He's at a meeting with his dad. Some of the business associates wanted to see Roger and wish him." I slant my lips and nod. It hasn't even been a whole day since he turned 18 and he's already brushing elbows with important people.
Blow-dried hair. Evened skin tone with BB cream. Glossy, red-tinted lips. Cat-eye lines over upper lashes. Feathered blushes. Shimmery knee-length dress. Uncomfortable heels that haven't been broken in yet. My party-ready checklist is all crossed off. Dad drives us to the Alpha's house. Even a mile away from the house I see the signs of the party: Banners across the road, a bunting of triangular flags running on either side, and the plethora of fancy cars all driving in the same direction. After we're inside the house, I leave my dad to stand among people around my age. It doesn't take long before a hand props up on my shoulder. You know that friend who always rests their elbow on your shoulder just because they are taller than you? Dalton is that friend of mine. It's because of him I never got past five feet and five inches. He impeded my growth.
"I'm going to have a bigger party than this," he says. His birthday is only a few months away. "Dalton, I'm saying this because I care about you: Your dad doesn't love you enough to throw you a party like this." I hope he believes it. Not only so he could feel bad but also because I believe none of us is ever going to get a birthday party like this. Ever. "I don't need my dad when I've my awesome friends whom I can trust to throw me a grand 18th birthday party," he says. Well, if that's what he wants, "I'm sure Roger will arrange something," I tell him. They both are very close. That's why I sometimes refer to them as each other's boyfriend. That makes more sense to me.
Dalton stares at me. "I said friends, in plural." I raise my eyebrows before delivering him the hard truth. "Maximum I can do is buy you a burger and stick a candle in it. You'll have to bring the matches." Or I could just give him a pizza coupon. I'll let him choose.
"Cheapskate," he says. "Don't forget you'll have your 18th birthday, too." Lucky for me my 18th birthday comes next year and he would've forgotten about the burger by then. "What are you doing here anyway?" I ask him. "Aren't you in charge of walking your boyfriend in?"
"He's on a call. He can handle himself without me for a second. You think I'll find my mate when I turn 18?"
"No."
"You could've at least pretended to think about it for a second."
I wait for a second before repeating, "No."
When he opens his mouth to say something, probably not showers of appreciation towards my unwavering honesty, Kara shows her face. "It's time," she says. "Bring him in." Dalton leaves to fulfill his duty. Kara asks me to come with her. "Why?" I ask. "To bring out the cake with me," she says. I shake my head. I'm not a cake-bearer. That level of cheesiness is not in my bones. I hold up my phone to her and say, "I'm on video duty." Which I am. On my phone screen I frame the door Roger and Dalton will be coming in shortly through. When I hear their footsteps I also see Kara coming in with the cake through the opposite door. I debate over which side to keep filming. Since Roger is the man of the hour, I decide on him and wait by the door. Soon, Roger walks in, with Dalton at his heels, but I don't notice Dalton or anyone or anything else. My eyes are fixed on Roger as his on me. I'm confused. Shocked. Excited. Happy. Scared. But mostly overwhelmed by the sudden surge of desire flowing through every cell of my body. I feel like I'm trembling all over when I'm not. Before I could even understand what's happening to me, Roger does something. I don't know how but before anyone could register his reaction, before even I could properly see his expression, Roger recovers and walks past me towards Kara.
#1 Jean is annoyed by Roger's birthday
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