“Oh yes.” She nods animatedly, “Nia joined too.”
“Nia?” I splutter. “As in Fem Soc President Nia? I thought she only read Naomi Wolf.”
“She’s not all work and no play.” Delilah rolls her eyes. “And smut is all about female empowerment, so of course, she wanted to join. You should consider it too.”
I wave my hand. “I have too much work for that.”
Delilah smirks. “Or you’re getting so much action from your mysterious Forestville alphas that you don’t need to live out your wildest fantasies through fictional male characters.”
I ignore her, too preoccupied by the nervous apprehension bubbling in my stomach, knowing that I’m likely to see Calder atTheValley Voiceoffice today. I can’t stop replaying what Hale said last night about how it would be to be their omega. He made it sound so easy. Sadly, real life is never that straightforward. I’ve seen my father’s bonded colleagues at dinner parties, watching how omegas become subservient to their alphas. It’s easy to promise you the world before a bite, but after that, all bets are off.
We stop by Toasted for Delilah to grab one of their new breakfast sandwiches. As she rummages around looking for her wallet,Pack Fire’slatest song comes over the radio. She freezes.
The impatient cashier clicks their teeth, arching a pierced brow sassily. “I have a line.”
“I’ve got it.” I step in, shooting them a death glare before paying and grabbing Delilah’s sandwich before she has a chance to argue. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“You didn’t have to,” Delilah murmurs, looking at her shoes.
“Their sandwiches may be amazing, but the service leaves a lot to be desired.” I bump her playfully. “With the amount you feed me and the Stellas, I owe you hundreds of dollars’ worth of breakfasts by now.”
The tension in her shoulders loosens as soon as we’re out of the store and not being forced to listen to that godforsaken band anymore.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “You’d think that after a year, he wouldn’t get to me still, but here I am.” She sniffs. “Making a fool out of myself in Toasted over some guy who probably can’t even remember my name.”
That “some guy” is Jagger Knight. The asshole rockstar who made Delilah feel like his world only to crush her. I was wary of him from the start. Obviously. Everyone’s read about his playboy reputation, but Delilah insisted that he was different before he skipped town without saying goodbye, leaving her heartbroken.
“Of course, he’d remember your name.” Okay, I’m not entirely sure whether someone like Jagger has the capability to remember anything more than to check his reflection in the mirror, but I don’t want to make her feel any worse. “It’s the name he’ll think of when he realizes how badly he fucked up.”
She giggles. “You think?”
“Of course.” Sabs is our resident Stella hype girl, but I can do a pretty good job on my own. “He’s a fool, and his latest album has totally flopped.”
“Did it?” She nibbles on her sandwich, her eyes filled with concern for someone who doesn’t deserve it. “I still havePack Fireblocked on my computer so they don’t appear on my feeds.”
“Good.” That was my suggestion to help her through the tough time right after Jagger skipped town. “And keep it that way. You’re doing great now, Del.” I squeeze her arm. “An alpha who treats you like that isn’t worthy of you. You’re one in a billion.”
She grins, eating her food and groaning. “Oh wow. This breakfast sandwich is unreal.” She holds out the slabs of bread bulging with fresh tomatoes, herbed sausages, and spinach. “Wanna try? The combination of oregano, pepper with that zingy tomato, and dressing is something else.”
“I’m good with coffee.”
She chews away happily, seeming more content again as she chats about her musical performance class. She’s still too shy to sing any of her own pieces in front of us, but she really enjoys reading us the lyrics she writes.
Our talking is drowned out by a group of alphas up ahead, their loud heckling penetrating my skull. Can’t they reduce the decibels at this time of the morning?
“What’s going on there?” Delilah’s eyebrows pull together.
The main street is still pretty quiet. Most students aren’t exactly early morning birds, unless they’re heading to the gym for practice or the library.
“Probably alphas proving they’re all bark and no bite,” I quip, ready to turn in the opposite direction, leaving them to whatever they’re doing. Getting in the middle of an alpha fight is a definite no-go, even if I am l trained in martial arts.
“Is that…?” Delilah squints. “A telescope?”
My head jerks around to see an alpha football player holding a telescope above his head. The assholes are taking turns, throwing it between each other, like it’s a ball. It’s hard to properly see what’s happening because of all the broad shoulders and the sea of red football shirts, but I instantly recognize Kyro’s blockhead, my stomach nose diving.
Who else would carry a telescope to campus?
Through the sea of people, I catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Riven. His shoulder-length blonde hair glistens in the early morning sun, looking very out of place amongst the muscular jocks.
