Page 6 of Want It All
He meant thatI’dbe less intimidating, but he was right, either way. ‘That’s a good idea. Thanks, Dr. Ford.’
‘I’ll check in tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And Byron?’
‘Mmm?’
‘You’re doing really well. I’m proud of you,’ he said quietly, and ended the call.
I stuffed my phone back into my pocket. It was nice to hear, but moving forward sometimes felt like walking through mud, as if I’d trekked for days, weeks, months – but when I looked back to see how far I’d come, it seemed like no distance at all. Andas much as I loved them, my parents didn’t make matters any easier.
When they’d told me that mum had been offered the position here, I’d thought for a moment she and dad would come alone. But then she added that she’d negotiated a place for me, too, and any illusions about newfound autonomy flew straight out the window.
I couldn’t mind, though, not really. Not with what my parents had been through. Even though most twenty-seven-year-olds didn’t stay quite so close to their parents.
‘Most twenty-seven-year-olds aren’tferal,’ I muttered to myself.
On the plus side, my apartment was in the student accommodation, not with my parents in the staff wing. They had said pointedly that they’d check in often, but the reins were looser than they’d been before.
My stomach interrupted that train of thought with a loud rumble, reminding me that I’d left the dining hall without eating.
I scowled out the window. The omega’s plate had been almost full when she’d returned it to the service bay.
Fuck.
She might have had some food in her room, but I certainly didn’t. And while I could head to my parent’s apartment to steal a sandwich – or even some bacon, if my dad hadn’t eaten it all – she might not have been here long enough to make friends who could provide the same.
‘Well, this will be embarrassing,’ I said to the window.
I headed back to the dining hall. All the chatter stopped the moment I stepped foot inside. I ignored the sudden silence and the loaded looks and joined the line for food. While I was waiting, I sent my mother a message.
I know you saw what happened. I need a favour. The omega didn’t finish her food. I need to take her some, but I don’t know where her room is.
Mum must have seen the message immediately, because three dots appeared on the screen, showing she was typing. They disappeared a moment later, and I knew she was weighing up what to do.
That isn’t something I can tell you, B.
My father called a moment later.
‘South wing, first floor, room fourteen. Her name is Rosemary. Love you, B, you silly goose,’ he said, and hung up.
I sent him two emojis – a heart and a goose.
When I had a tray laden with two plates of dinner food and piled with different desserts, I walked to the south wing. My apartment was in the east, and another floor up. I didn’t like where her room was: she was close to the stairwell, and my instincts hated that anyone might walk by her private space, but there was no good place to put an omega here. A corner room would be too quiet, with too few people to help if something went wrong, and too many ways she could be penned in; a room in the middle of the wing would see her surrounded by alphas.
‘Not your problem,’ I told myself.
Her door was, unsurprisingly, closed. I put the tray down on the plush carpet and knocked.
‘Omega?’ I called softly. ‘My name is Byron. I know it won’t mean much, but I’m sorry for what happened in the dining hall. I noticed you didn’t finish eating, so I brought you some dinner.’ I paused. ‘Would you prefer the zucchini pie or the roast chicken?’
There was no answer.
‘I know you don’t want to talk to me, which is both totally understandable and shows impeccable taste on your part, but I’m leaving food here regardless, and I’d prefer to leave something you’d like to eat. I don’t really want to guess, becauseI don’t know you at all, and will absolutely get it wrong.’ There was no response, but I caught a faint scuffling sound, and suspected she was looking through the door’s peephole. ‘Chicken or zucchini?’
‘Zucchini.’
Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper. Even so, I soaked it in, memorising the sounds.
‘Good choice.’ I picked up the plate with the chicken and grabbed one of the cutlery packets. ‘Good night, omega.’
