I snort. “I was held back in the third grade.”
That brings forth another round of incredulous looks. They all start asking me a million questions at once.
“Why the hell did they hold you back?” Sam starts.
“Why haven’t you been buying our drinks all this time?” Ciro adds.
“I feel like my life is a lie.” Rory quips, not as a question, but hilariously.
And then Kit says, “Oh my god, out of us omegas, you’re the oldest.”
I decide to answer him first, my grin teasing. “Is that surprising?”
Rory, Stacia, and Kit all nod and say, “Definitely.”
“Well, I was held back because I failed the reading test that year. Don’t ask me how, I barely remember it.”
“Who needs to know how to read, anyway?” Ciro asks.
Kendall hits him upside the head and says, “Considering she’s going to be teaching the next generation how to read,shedefinitely does.”
They start an argument about that, and my amusement only grows. My joy is always at an all-time high with my friends, and I realize that if it weren’t for that awful date, I would never be here with people who truly make me happy. In some small way, that makes me grateful that the misunderstanding happened, no matter how or why it occurred.
As the thought occurs, something strange happens. A sharp cramp hits me in the pit of my stomach, and the swoosh of it brings immediate sweat to my forehead.
Oh god, no.
I cool my features and whisper to Kit. “I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”
I don’t bother to hear his response as I start to move through the crowd, trying to find the nearest place of privacy. When I spot the sign for the restrooms, I walk as quickly as I can, my fear causing the heat on my skin to flare even more.
The bathroom is empty, and I finally let tears spring to my eyes. The familiar but also foreign feeling remains. The pain isn’t as deep as I remember it being. It’s surface level in comparison, so I hold onto that fact. I amnotgoing into a heat today, but this might be something else, so I need to stay put until it calms down.
Luckily, it only lasts a few minutes. The sting subsides and the air starts to feel cool again. I wipe my forehead, getting rid of the sweat like it’s evidence of something more heinous than it is.
As the heat flash completely dissipates, I throw some cold water on my face and take a few deep breaths.
I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I can make it through the night.
My omega whines, not liking the idea of postponing her needs, and I shush her. I cannotdeal with this right now. Not in a bar full of people.
After I’ve done all the consoling with my omega that I can, I march out into the hallway, prepared to go back into a sprawl of people.
When I bump into someone’s shoulder, I let out a squeak, and the person stops.
“Oh fuck, sorry.” His hand comes to my shoulder to help me situate, and the sweetest aroma hits my nose. It’s full of spice and freshly baked apples, with a note of cider that completes the entire picture.
My eyes widen.He’s an alpha.
The tiniest bit of fear hits me, along with a swirl of paindeep down that I completely ignore in his presence. He must see the anguish, because his brow creases in concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking his hand off me and giving me a little more space. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to apologize for not watching where I was going.”
I spot the beer in his hand, the tiny white cup filled with beige liquid, and the tiny guitar pick wedged between his fingers. My eyes widen.
“Are you in the band?” I ask.
He grins and although it’s kind, the presence of it is downright sinful. “I am.” He wiggles the guitar pick between his fingers.
