That’s better, but still a little on the gross side. “And the final package?”
“Yes, our elite plan. It’s pricey, but if you can manage it, the most comfortable choice for an omega. In addition to texting the alphas, you get a chance to meet and greet the ones you like best before your heat starts.”
“The meetings, are they—” I clear my throat. “Are they private?”
Alice fervently bobs her head, dislodging the strand of hair out from behind her ear. “Oh, yes. All alphas and omegas involved must sign an NDA.”
Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!
I look down at the glossy paper. My next heat is coming whether I'm ready for it or not. I'm not ready for it. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for it.
"I'd like to sign up for the Elite package."
After my payment is confirmed, they hand me an iPad. With shaking hands I sort through hundreds of profiles and surveys. I'm glad no one is watching. I'm glad there's no one here who can smell how not-okay I am right now.
Rank scents. Check.
Swipe through bios. Check.
Pretend this is all normal. Check.
Don’t think about what normal actually looks like. Checkity-fucking-check.
After reviewing a seemingly endless list of applicants, I select my top thirty.
“I’m finished.” I hand the iPad to the beta who first greeted me. She takes it from me, and I feel the loss of it immediately, which is strange.
She checks her computer screen. “It’s all loaded to your account. All you need to do is accept the app request in your text messages.”
I check and sure enough, there it is.
“A notification was sent automatically to your preferred alphas. They have the option to accept or deny your request.”
I force a smile and hold it there a moment too long, the way you do when your face needs a second to catch up with your performance. It screams ‘This is such a normal way to get to know an alpha. So normal I can’t even deal with it’.”
Hey, I saw your bio and scent profile. Wanna see if we’re compatible? I’m going to need a knot soon.
“You can send your first message whenever you are ready. They won’t see it until they accept your offer.”
All the water in the East River could not cool my heated cheeks.
“Thank you,” I croak.
And I mean it.Sort of.
Everyone’s been nice. And I can’t do this alone.
Been there. Done that. Have the hospital gown to prove it.
But I’m officially over pretending that shopping for heat mates is a totally normal experience.
This experience was more trauma-adjacent than traumatic. That's what I'm going to keep telling myself. Probably while drinking tequila. This is what cheat days are for, right? Omegas need at leastoneday a week to drown their sorrows in calories.
Me:Are you free? I need margs.
Me:And tacos.
Me:Andmaybe churros.
