But I am not good enough for them to want publicly.
If there had been any doubts about how this pack feels about me, about where I come from or who I am, those have been put to rest.
I am not good enough in the eyes of the Ashbourne pack.
I never will be.
Episode 23: Kissing Frogs
No one is surprised when I have some of the lowest scores of the day. Second to last, only ahead of Julian, who couldn’t seem to fake it, likely because he’s been warned just like Tristan.
Petal stalks over to me when we’ve been dismissed for the day, bypassing the pack with a derisive sniff is so out of character for her, it makes her disdain for their actions clear.
“I cannot believe them,” she hisses as soon as she reaches Tristan and I. “Truly. Anyone with eyes can see how those kisses actually went.”
“And anyone with a pulse would have been turned on by them,” Tristan adds, looping my arm through his to guide me away.
Which is good because Courtland is stalking toward me with predator-like intent and the last thing I want is to be caught by him. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll edit it so the kisses match the scores they gave me. It's all part of the show.” I stare straight ahead, ignoring the looks the other omegas are casting my way. Some are… Pitying? Like they feel sorry for me. Which is frustrating as hell. I don’t want their pity. “The last thing they’ll want to do is make the pack look like the bad guys. So I guess that role will fall to me. Middling sloppy kisses and all.”
Though honestly, I’m not sure what my role is supposed to be in this anymore. I’d thought I was the foil to Isadora. I’d thought they were playing us off each other. That ever present question of ‘Love or Duty’. But there’s no way that’s the case if they scored me so low. They must be planning on sending me home sooner rather than later.
It's the only thing that makes sense. This is them telling the world we don’t have any chemistry and without chemistry, there’s no point in keeping me.
Petal is still scowling at the guys, but she squeezes my hand. “What should we do? What will help?”
Honestly, if I could, I’d find an empty dance studio, blare the loudest angriest music I can find and fucking dance out my emotions. The urge to do that takes me entirely by surprise. It's been ages since I’ve felt it. Since before I woke up in a hospital bed with my knee in pieces.
Sure, I’ve been working toward dancing for myself again, but I’ve not felt this burning need to dance in almost two years.
I shake my head. “I suppose I could use some grounding.”
“Yoga?” Tristan suggests, already tugging me toward the small workout area I’ve used every day since we came here. Even if it's just for stretching.
“Yoga?” Tamsin calls from where she’s lingering near the buffet table.
“Yep,” Petal calls back, skipping next to me. Her anger at the pack dissipated already. It's amazing how quickly she can just get over things… though it's probably easier when she’s not the one they embarrassed the crap out of.
The four of us roll out our yoga mats, while the production team asks for the pack to go do confessionals. “Should we start with a beat of meditation?” Tristan asks, already dropping into a seated cross legged position.
For a moment I’m pretty stunned. I didn’t realize these omegas were paying such close attention to me, to my habits, even after we started holding an impromptu yoga class most days, I’m surprised they know I prefer to start with meditation and then move into yoga. It helps me to clear my mind so I can focus on the flow.
There is absolutely no reason why this realization should make my throat tighten and my eyes sting. I just didn’t expect to find people whogetme here. For so long I’ve only had that with Haven and my family.
On the heels of what my omega undoubtedly views as at least a partial rejection, it's… nice.
“Yeah, meditation first,” I agree, voice sounding choked.
Tristan tsks. “None of that, jalapeno. You’re far too good for all of this bullshit. Chin up, buttercup. Bright smile for the cameras and all that.”
I laugh, though it too sounds strangled. But then I drop onto the same seated position as the other omegas and take a deep inhale.
We’re nearing the end of our practice when the alphas return to the pool deck. I pointedly avoid looking at them, pushing into a downward facing dog, ignoring the rush of omega feet over the cement to get to their sides. Instead I focus on the hard won balance I’ve achieved in their absence. The calm. The… acceptance.
It is what it is.
And what it is, is me finally leaving the show.
That has to be the case given how poorly they scored me. This must have been part of their plan, a way to give a reason for not picking me to continue. If they make a point of how little chemistry we have, they can point to that when the fans question their decision.
