Page 20 of Small Town Shy Omega
A few days later, Gretel came to me with tears in her eyes.
Gretel had a date last night, and the pack brutally rejected her. They told Gretel her business was silly, that no Omega could possibly support herself selling blueberry products, and that Gretel needed to grow up, and learn to submit to her Alphas.
Gretel was brokenhearted, and I hated seeing my normally chipper friend, who usually comfortedme,so down.
Gretel’s Goodies, the name of her shop, was brimming with crocheted sweaters, little blueberry rock candies, and blue crystals when I arrived to have girl talk with Gretel. A bell dinged as I entered.
Gretel sat alone, knitting on a stool. Big tears rolled down her cheeks, and my heart broke.
“How are you, girl?”
Gretel sniffled as she turned her head up. “Oh, not very good.”
“You’re normally the one comforting me,” I said tenderly, wrapping my friend, who wore a stylish crocheted blue sweater, in a hug.
Gretel’s beautiful blue hair shook out. “I hate being in such a vulnerable position, because running a business obviously requires a girl to be strong, but I’m really going through it due to my botched date last night, girl.”
“Wanna pour some wine and tell me about it?” I knew that Gretel was famous for her proprietary blueberry wine.
Gretel snorted, shaking her head. “It’s the middle of the afternoon! Drinking during business hours would be highly unprofessional.”
“Since when is it wrong to have a glance of wine around noon, Gret? That’s how they do it in Italy,” and I laughed as I grabbed a bottle of blueberry wine.
Gretel reluctantly agreed, and soon we both sipped chilled wine, ate sherbet cookies and nibbled on the cheese cubes that Gretel set out.
“Every one of my dates goes down in flames. I put myself out there and try to be what Alphas want, but it never works. I’m either un-bondable or there are no good Alphas left in Applewood Falls.”
“Can I be honest?” I said. “You know I’ve felt the same way. That there are no good Alphas left. But things have a funny way of changing, Gret.”
“Oh, how?”
“I’m actually hosting a pack in my cottage. It’s the one who’s courting me, of course.”
Gretel’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”
“They’re making me chicken noodle soup and we’re going swimming tonight.” Tears welled in my eyes, but I suddenly felt guilty. And terribly selfish for blabbing about my date tonight, when I’d come to Gretel’s Goodies to comfort my friend.
“Sorry,” I then muttered, sipping blueberry wine. “Enough about me.”
“Hearing about your stargazing date tonight actually takes the pressure off me, believe it or not. It gives me hope: finding a pack may not be impossible, even though right now it feels like it is.”
“Tell me about the pack from last night,” I urged, wanting to hear Gretel’s full story. “What did they say? What did they do?”
Gretel sniffed. “The date started off good. We were at Marion’s downtown, the Italian place.”
“Oh, that’s a great restaurant.”
“They paid for my meal, so at least that was fine. But then the pack started off by telling me that I needed to dye my blue hair.”
“What?!”
“Blue hair isn’t becoming of Omegas anymore. It connotes something abrasive, like you’re a…” Gretel’s voice trailed off.
“Tell me, girl.” I put my hand on Gretel’s arm.
“They said it was off-putting. No Alphas would want me, and it looked like I’d complain a lot. I told them to fuck right off, but they only looked at each other and said my response solidified their views of me. In the animal kingdom, they said, blue-skinned frogs connote poison. Their skin’s a warning sign, keeping predators at bay.”
“In this case, your blue hair performed its function!”
