Page 34 of Slick Handling

“Are you ready to go?”

“Do I have to go?” He blinks like he’s taken aback by my question. Suddenly I feel nervous again.

Everyone else is already at the game. They had to take a bus over there this morning. It’s only about an hour away, but they’re going to spend the night and then come home after the game on Saturday.

Apollo told me this morning, before he had gone to his own practice, that we would be driving there tonight and depending on the weather we might stay in the same hotel. He had already gotten rooms just in case that happened..

It’s freezing out, despite it not yet being Halloween, and outside smells like snow.

When I walked to class this morning I felt like I was risking hypothermia with each step. Maybe that was another reason I wasn’t a big fan of school. I much rather be in bed in something cozy than dressed for school in the cold.

“You can’t stay here alone.”

So I have no choice in this.

My whole life I have been told to be agreeable. It’s something I know how to do. So why stop now?

Scooping up my overnight bag I ignore Apollo as he reaches to take it from me, sliding past him and trying not to think of the way his black tea scent takes a bitter edge to it when I ignore him.

Why am I feeling like this?

I’m outside before he is and standing next to the passenger side door, pulling at the handle, like that is somehow going to magically make it open up.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

“Here,” My bag comes off my shoulder and the door is swung open as Apollo opens it, waiting for me to get in before moving to put our overnight bags in the backseat. “There’s water and hot chocolate in the mugs. I didn’t know which you’d prefer.” He comments as he gets in teh drivers side..

Instead of thanking him, I nod my head to acknowledge I hear him.

I’m tugging my coat tighter around me already chilled. My thumb absentmindedly runs over the embroidery on the left sleeve. The coat was a hand me down from one of the girls at the academy, but the stuffing was coming outside of the arm. To fix it I stitched a pretty green plant that is blooming with swirling pink and white flowers to cover the hole. It also made it feel more like it was mine.

Touching it calms me down. Reminds me of a piece of me that is still the same through all the changes.

The heat is on, warming me up as we drive. Apollo has Top 40 music playing in the background as a light snow falls around us. His finger taps at the steering wheel as if he wants to talk but he doesn’t know what to say. I’m not helping things by staying silent.

I close my eyes when I see his mouth open, rolling my body so it’s against the cool window. I’m just going to pretend to be asleep. Maybe if I pretend to sleep he’ll get the hint.

Just like I got the hint that they didn’t want me.

I didn’t help Vaughn enough during his rut.

I didn’t kiss Griffin right when he had kissed me.

I didn’t make McKinley feel secure in his role as Beta.

I didn’t ease Apollo like a good Omega should.

All I did was create more problems for the pack.

I was a bad Omega.

There was something in my chest that was tight and sore. If I wasn’t pretending to be asleep I’d rub it and try to ease the ache. With my fake sleep going on, I wasn’t risking moving.

When I was moody growing up, Grammy made me sit in my room for the week. She took away all my sewing and things I enjoyed doing or could do to be useful. All I was left with was some food for me to eat and my own company.

It had been torture to be isolated and feel useless. When I was let out, Grammy would always talk about how behind she was or flex her fingers and say how sore they were from doing double the work. The punishment always felt twice as bad when I was reminded about how my bad mood had ruined so much else for everyone.

The memory is almost enough to pull me back and make me be a good girl.

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