Larry hisses in Sabs’s direction. He has a very squashed face, like he’s been whacked with a frying pan—so ugly that it’s lovable.
Sabs narrows her eyes. “Nice to see you too, little monster.”
Larry snubs her, turning his attention back to rubbing his cheeks over my ankles.
“Try not to move,” Delilah warns me. “I still have scars from when he scratched me for trying to tear him away from a plate of flapjacks.”
“Ignore them, Faye.” Kady swats her hand before her voice turns high-pitched. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Larry?”
Delilah and Sabs’s expressions say otherwise.
Cautiously, I kneel. Delilah and Sabs freeze, like we’re in the presence of a lion, but he just purrs quite happily. I dare to pat his head, and he lets out a loud meow, tipping his face up so I can tickle under his chin.
Sabs gasps. “No fucking way.”
“See? He’s an angel,” Kady croons. “Some people,” she glares at Delilah and Sabs, “just don’t understand him.”
Larry brushes his cheek against my hand one final time before hopping up next to Kady and cuddling into her legs like a giant water bottle.
“We’ll catch up with you later.” Sabs points at Kady. “For Faye’s initiation, remember?”
“Yes, yes,” Kady replies. “I’m not too hungover for that. I’ll get everything ready.”
I gulp down the nervousness threatening to strangle my vocal cords. “Initiation?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, honestly.” Delilah must sense my anxiety. “It’s not really an initiation per se, more something to really welcome you into Stella House.”
“Forget about it for now.” Sabs squeezes my bicep. “Give me five to get dressed, then we’ll get going!”
We spend the rest of the day zipping around in a golf cart. Sabs and Delilah show me all sorts of cool buildings and places tohangout. On Sabs’s insistence, they take me to join the gym. She’s very sporty and captain of the college’s volleyball team. I told her I’d never go, but it’s free, and she’s adamant that a hot yoga class—which sounds like my idea of hell—will change my life.
I learn that Sabs is an engineering student. She’s the only female omega in that subject, but she won their respect after outlifting many of them at the gym. Delilah studies culinary arts and is earning a minor in music performance. Her easy-going energy balances Sabs’s outspoken fieriness.
We take a tour around the epic SVU theatre, seeing where many famous actors learned their craft, then we grab a bubble tea and head to Toasted—apparently, the best sandwich bar on campus that packs fresh fillings between giant slabs of focaccia.
Delilah points out Club Knotty. Despite its tongue-in-cheek name, it has an omega only area. We also pass the giant greenhouse where I’ll be taking most of my classes. The glass-domed building is massive and holds every plant you can think of.
During our time together, I get to know the girls better. Sabs is from a coastal, surfer town. She’s the youngest of four and the only girl. Delilah is a small-town girl who has always dreamed of bigger things and developed her love of cooking from her mom.
When we return to Stella House, I have to do a double-take. The entire living area has been transformed into a mini spa. Kady lies on a massage table, her face covered in mud with cucumbers over her eyes. Four foot spas are already bubbling, and the coffee table is covered with every color nail polish you can imagine.
Kady removes one cucumber slice to peer at us. “You took your time.”
Delilah grins, removing her lumpy scarf that she told me she’d knitted herself. “You sound much better.”
“Pampering always helps,” Kady replies. “Now get on your robes, and meet back down here stat. It’s time to welcome Faye into our family the Stella way.”
“Is this part of my initiation?” I wonder whether they’ll force me to give them pedicures or squeeze out blackheads. Hazing is supposed to be unpleasant, right?
“Get into your PJs and the most comfortable, fluffy socks you can find,” Kady orders. “Now!”
Delilah squeezes my arm. “Trust me, it’s best not to argue with Kady. She’s hella moody when she doesn’t get her way.”
“I was talking to you too, Del!” Kady hurls a soggy slice of cucumber in her direction. “Now move your ass!”
I don’t waste any time in doing what she asked and am first to return downstairs to find Kady lining up chips and dip on the coffee table with military-level precision. I spy Larry prowling nearby, his whiskers pointed forward and eying the guacamole with interest, but he seems too wary of his owner’s watchful gaze to make a move yet.
“Every few weeks, we have a Stella girls’ night,” Kady explains. “It’s tradition.”
