One night,I tell myself as we head out of the dorm.Just one night to see if this thing is real.
And if we happen to humiliate Chad in the process?
Even better.
milo
TheballroomlookslikeCupid threw up everywhere, and I mean that in the best possible way.
Pink and red decorations cover every available surface. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling in sweeping arcs, casting a warm glow over the hundreds of students packed into Thornwood Hall. Heart-shaped balloons cluster in corners, and someone has scattered rose petals across the registration tables near the entrance. A giant screen behind the stage displays the running tally of money raised, the numbers ticking upward every few minutes.
This isnothinglike January’s auction but fuck, I love it. Every tacky, over-the-top inch of it.
Quentin, though, looks like he's in physical pain. His eye is doing that twitchy thing it does when he's overstimulated, and his scent has gone sharp with discomfort. Too many people, toomuch noise, too much pink. I bump my shoulder against his as we push through the crowd toward the front of the room.
"Breathe, Q. It's a party, not a torture chamber."
"Debatable."
We find seats in the third row, close enough to see Iris's face when we win.When, not if. I settle into my chair and scan the room, taking in the chaos. The stage is set up with a podium and a spotlight, and a woman I recognize from the events committee is shuffling index cards near the microphone. A professional auctioneer stands off to the side, borrowed from the business school apparently, looking bored in a way that suggests he's done this before.
Movement catches my eye across the room, and I spot Avery and Declan near the back. Avery waves enthusiastically when he sees me looking, then mouths "good luck" followed immediately by "you're insane." He finishes with a double thumbs up, which pretty much sums up our entire friendship. Supportive and judgmental simultaneously.
Declan nods at us, one of those Alpha acknowledgment things that I've never fully understood. His arm is possessively wrapped around Avery's waist. Those two are goals. Gross, adorable goals.
I wave back, trying to project confidence I don't entirely feel.
"Front row," Quentin says quietly, and I follow his gaze to where Chad and Kevin have planted themselves directly in front of the stage.
Of course, they're in the front row. Of course, Chad is wearing a suit that's two sizes too small, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest like he's auditioning for a cologne commercial. His hair is gelled into a shine that probably required an entire bottle of product. Kevin sits beside him in designer streetwear and a backwards cap, because apparently that's appropriate formal event attire now.
They've got their bidding paddles ready, gripped in their hands like weapons.
"I'm going all the way tonight, bro," Chad says, loud enough that I can hear him from two rows back. He's not even trying to be subtle. "Whatever it takes."
"Same, bro." Kevin nods vigorously. "She's gonna realize what she's been missing."
"This is my year. I can feel it."
"What's your max bid?"
Chad scoffs. "No max. I'll go as high as I need to."
"Bro, your dad will kill you."
"Worth it. She's prime." Chad grins, showing all of his teeth.Gross."You know how good she'd look on my arm? And Coach would have to respect me then. His daughter's boyfriend? That's like, automatic starter position."
I exchange a look with Quentin. His expression hasn't changed, but his scent has sharpened further.
"Did he just call her 'prime'?" I whisper. "Like she's a steak?"
"I'm going to enjoy this," Quentin mutters.
Chad must sense us staring because he turns around, scanning the rows behind him until his eyes land on us. The corner of Chad's mouth hooks upward. He turns fully in his seat to face us, one arm draped over the back of his chair. "Oh look, the Varks. Came to watch?"
"Came to participate, actually,” I push out, trying to keep up the bravado. Sometimes I despise being an Omega because my first reaction is to cower or give in when there’s an Alpha. And when it’s someone like Chad?Fuck that guy.
His smirk falters for just a second before snapping back into place. "You're bidding? On who?"
