Page 98 of Toxic

Soren’s face… ridiculously perfect, as I leaned down to his neck, his eyes sensually closed, lips slightly parted.

He used to be mine, even if just in that small way, just a tiny piece of his heart, his soul.

In a flash, memories of us being together hit me—the vision of holding him in my arms. Was it really never going to come back? Had Fate (and my stubbornness) torn us apart for good?

I stared at those photos like I was under a spell. His striking face, his gray eyes looking right at me—I mean, at the camera, but it felt almost like he was staring straight at me. Piercing, drilling into my yearning, wounded soul.

Then I remembered his text message. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and checked it again. It was sent the same evening we broke up:

"Can we talk?"

I didn’t answer, so I never found out what he wanted to talk about.

A minute later, I went back to Instagram, and that’s when I noticed another message in my inbox, I didn’t recognize the profile, but it didn’t take long to figure out who it was.

Archer.

His message was sent to me two weeks after the graduation ceremony, so my reply was now a month and a half overdue.

I checked his profile, but his Instagram was private—no photos visible.

The message said:

"Hey, just wondering how you’re doing. Let me know what’s up with you. I talked to Alvin a few days ago because I’m doing some security testing for D-Project, and he mentioned that he’s with Don now. Looks like he finally sealed the deal. During the conversation, I found out something interesting that I didn’t know before. Apparently, when Soren broke up with you, he said he was going to go blow Don.

That night, when you both ran out of the party, I left the building shortly after with a group of people who wanted some fresh air. From a distance, I saw Soren and Don standing together in front of the dorm, arguing. I got closer and caught part of their conversation. Soren told Don he only used him to break up with you and that Don could fuck off, and there was no chance for a blowjob.

Things got heated after that, and Don wanted to punch Soren, but I stepped in and stopped it. I thought maybe you didn’t know, so I wanted to tell you what really happened. Iwould’ve told you before, but honestly, I had no idea what went down between you two until Alvin clued me in.

I hope knowing Soren didn’t actually do it might help you figure out what to do next—maybe even reach out to him? Beyond that, you probably heard about Gabriel's situation…" The next part of the message elaborated on my cousin’s criminal problems.

I stared at the text for a while, feeling… not much, really. I should’ve been relieved but… the moment I read those lines, it was like, ‘I already knew’!

Yep. How could I have ever been so stupid to think Soren would actually do it with Don?

Blinking, I gaped at the screen, shocked by my realization. Why did I believe that? Maybe I was just angry at Soren for breaking up with me, and the whole Don involvement helped fuel that anger, clouding my intuition? On a certain level, I knew that Soren would never give a blow job to Don. Never.

I was grateful for Archer’s message, though—it helped clear my head, allowing me see Soren for who he really was, instead of through the lens of my anger.

My eyes closed on their own as my mind flooded with images of Soren and me in bed, him vulnerable in my arms, trusting my touch… God, how I missed him! To feel him near me, to look at his gorgeous face. I craved to see him, even just for a moment.

I also felt kinda stupid for ignoring Archer for a month and a half. I hesitated to write back, but I couldn’t bring myself to put my thoughts into words. I felt like a jerk. After a moment, I closed Instagram. Maybe it was better to just leave things as they were?

Still shaken, I just sat there, staring at one picture of Soren on the screen. His eyes locked onto mine like deep wells. I quickly downloaded it to my phone and set it as my screensaver.

That’s it, I thought. I had to do whatever it takes to meet him again.

***

Later that day, I opened the DevApp website, thinking about possible plans.

Suddenly, a small announcement with an exclamation mark in the news section caught my eye. They were looking for interns for the ‘Open Chance’ program! ‘An interesting entry for your resume’, it said. ‘Apply now, we offer internship spots’, blah blah…

I read the description and realized they were encouraging alphas to apply. How surprising. The program had government funding, so they were open to hiring interns from different subgenders.

My first thought was, of course, about Winter—my brother worked there, after all. He could definitely help me get in, being a director there. But my second thought quickly shut down the first.

Winter would be the last person to help me get into DevApp. He didn’t think alphas made good programmers. He’d said that way too many times. If I was going to get into that company, it had to be on my own merit.

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