Page 9 of Knot Just for Show

I can’t tell what my face is doing as I take her bombshell appearance in, but I hope it’s nottooawful.

“We might start dating the boysblind, but they are going to have to see you eventually—so you might wanna slow your roll, babe.” She sneers through a plastic smile.

While I’ve been made fun of for my weight, since before I can remember—I wasn’t actually expecting anyone to be so outright shitty about it in front of the camera. Too bad for me. I’ve found myself cornered by this gilded viper before the camera crews have even started rolling.

I can feel the tears stinging at my eyes, my lip trembling against my best wishes. I can’t think of anything to defend myself that won’t sound more pathetic than my stunned silence—so I just stand there. Paralyzed. Willing every last cell in my body: Do. Not. Cry.

I’m about to buckle when suddenly mean-girl-Barbie is jostled forward—nearly knocked off her feet by six feet of woman; an incredibly athletic and muscular frame, ashy blonde hair with big chunky hot pink highlights tied into a very messy bun atop her head; her features like a fae queen, with high sculpted cheekbones, tilted mauve eyes and full lips.

“Ow!” the mean girl whines as the fae queen shoulders past her hard, taking a place beside me, arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“What thefuckwas that for?” Bitchy Barbie snipes.

“For being a bully, and for having a dry ass looking bleach job,” my rescuer, myqueen,sneers, her lip curled to reveal her sharp canine teeth.

I can tell right away from her scent of ripe red raspberry, sparkling champagne, and a heady basenote of candied violet—she is a sigma.

I’ve known about sigmas; the most biologically similar to omegas like me, but with a few exceptions. Sigmas perfume, like omegas, can accept pack bonds to be ‘bitten into’ a pack, and can give birth. Unlike omegas like me though, sigmas can also breed/impregnate in addition to birthing. They can perform a biting bond just like an alpha, and they donotnest. Socially, sigmas tend to be dominant and stoic loners and outsiders. When they do form attachments, they tend to favor smaller family units and an even smaller inner circle of friends.

No wonder her presence in the room is nearly palpable.

“I was just trying to help a girl out–look at her face! Even she knows it was just a bit of tough love,” blondie whinges, tossingher platinum tresses over her shoulder, self consciously fiddling with the dry split-ends.

“Yeah, sure—you’re totally agirl’s girlbeing that fuckin’ nasty.” Fae queen rolls her pale mauve eyes and heaves an exasperated sigh. “Why don’t you go find someone else to terrorize until they start rolling cameras,Regina George? My friend here and I are about to have a little snack and your hot garbage personality is putting me off my appetite.”

I can’t help but snort a laugh at that last part, a hand snapping up to cover my mouth and nose so that I don’t burst into hysterical laughter and make more drama.

Blessedly, mean-girl-barbie lets out a quick ‘Hmph!’ and turns on a heel, making her way back into the main common room with her injured pride.

My newfound sigma protector, with her vibrant hair and stunning eyes, slumps slightly; her entire body softening into casual ease; hands in the pockets of her sweatpants–their rolled waistband slung low across her hips, her own washboard midriff exposed.

“Sorry for white-knighting there before we’ve even been introduced,” she laughs with a hint of embarrassment, her broad shoulders caving slightly; making her slightly smaller and less broad–but not by much.

“No sorrys!” I blurt, waving her apology off.

“I was about to start crying like a kid getting dissed on the playground,” I laugh weakly. “You really saved my ass back there.” I beam, thumbing over my shoulder.

“Pshaw, it was nothing.” She grins, giving the quartz tile floor a little scuffing kick.

“I’m Ursula, by the way.” I beam, extending my hand toward her.

“Hey Ursula, I’m Roxy.” She reaches out and clasps my hand, firm and sure.

“A pleasure to meet you, friend…might I interest you in an impromptu mezze platter and some fruit?” I waggle my eyebrows at Roxy. “Unless your hunger was purely a fictional device to getHeather Chandleroutta here, that is.” I offer earnestly.

I’m delighted when Roxy lets out a big belly laugh at my riff on her ‘Regina George’ joke.

“While ditching herwasmy main concern, I am actually fuckin’ starving.” Roxy releases my hand, her smoldering, husky voice blooming from her peals of laughter.

“Well then, since I owe you–let me fix us a plate.” I swing the refrigerator door open, gesturing to the goodies inside before sweeping my hand in a wide arc toward a pair of wingback chairs overlooking a small gas fireplace on the far wall.

“I would tell you that we’re even–but I don’t wanna miss out on snacks.” Roxy rubs her palms together eagerly, her tongue darting out to make a sweep across her lips like a looney tunes character contemplating their next meal.

During our snack session, Roxy and I shared some basics about one another before we were due back in the common room for the start of shooting.

As luck would have it, we’re both New England girlies.

I, myself, the consummate Masshole, while Roxy hails from the beautiful white mountains in New Hampshire.

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