“It looks like they put you into Omega Basics.”

“What is Omega Basics.”

“It’s usually a class for first and second years when they arrive. To make sure that you know what comes with your omega designation blah blah blah. Mainly for the omegas whoare dropped off right after they perfume,” Lidya went on like this was all obvious.

“So I’m going to be in a classroom with a bunch of what? Sixteen-year-olds?”

“More like thirteen through sixteen years old. Yes.”

Great.

Having to leave me for one of her other advanced classes that I would not be attending it appeared, I turned the corner where I saw a dozen other much younger omegas starting to find their seats, chattering with their friends.

The classroom was stark and sterile, with desks neatly arranged in rows facing the front, though the lights were still turned low and easy on the eyes.

The teacher, a stern-looking omega woman with sharp features, stood at the whiteboard, writing out the day's lesson.

"Welcome to Omega Basics," she announced, her voice projecting throughout the room. "I am Professor Reinheart, and for those who are new–” Her eyes landed on me causing everyone else to turn. A variance of expression ranged around the classroom as I forced myself not to sink lower in my seat.

Wonderful. This was worse than when I was hopped up on suppressants for the first time trying to land low-paying job interviews before being accepted by the library and meeting Rita.

I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of her much until now.

What did she think was going on? She knew that shit was starting to hit the fan since my omega-ness was out of the bag, but did she know what happened exactly? Did Benjamin’s brother tell her what was going on? Or did he just disappear too and Rita was left by herself to mourn yet another dating gone wrong scenario she was lucky to have escaped from– or not by herself, but without me?

She’d be fine without me. She had other friends but…

I wonder if she even realized fully that I was gone yet.

“I’ll be your instructor for this course. Today, we will be discussing the history and importance of omegas in our society and we will continue this as we go through the course.”

Without further ado, the instructor began the lesson. Some of the omegas listened more than others. Some of them chatted with their friends or past notes. It wasn't all that different from a normal school. Of course, we were all omegas. The subject matter was about omegas. Our omega-ness seemed to drive our entire conversations about who we were, our futures, and even our pasts.

It was interesting to listen to the history which shocked me, maybe even more than how I was the oldest person in the room other than the professor herself. I learned a lot in my time working at the library, but I had straight away from ever reading anything about omegas.

I hated the designation so much. I hated it for what it made me and what it stood for. But as Professor Reinhart continued her instruction, I was starting to think that maybe it wasn't always this way.

Omega's used to be cherished in a way so unlike the way I had come to know. Back in ancient times, they were seen as gifts from the gods themselves. Omegas were cherished like goddesses and gods when a rare male omega came around. They were showered with gifts and love and were never shamed for their needs. Every single one of their whims was given into most of the time because omegas brought life into the world. They brought power and desire and anything else a home could ask for. Heats were even seen as being a form of ritualistic divinity that was worshiped, especially when things like scent matches whether one now believed in them or not, came into play.

It almost felt mystical to hear about omegas in that way. Beautiful, even.

All too soon, I couldn’t help but think, the class was over. Students started to pack up and head to their next classes.

Grabbing my notebook Lidya let me borrow it, I stood up and headed towards the front of the class.

“Omega Elena.” The professor spoke up, stopping me before I reached the door.

I froze in my steps and turned back.

She offered a small smile. “Could you stay for just a moment?" she asked.

Trying not to let loose the heavy sigh in my chest, I took a few steps towards her desk where she was cleaning up her lesson.

A few weeks ago this conversation would have felt different. I wouldn't have thought much of talking to a professor. Most of the time at Prestford University, we were equals in a sense. We worked at the same place. We had the same drive for academia. But now, I felt small, undeserving, and most of all, uneducated.

I swayed back and forth on my feet.

“Omega Elena, corrected?”