Page 91 of Broken Omega

They’re the oddballs and shy girls, the only women at this academy who seem to have minds of their own and who don’t only think about everything they can do to please an Alpha.

I feel bad for them that the new administrator is forcing this shit on them.

Not all of us have escape plans.

Ember might, and she knows I want to leave, but the rest? I don’t know.

“What time does this thing start?” the girl with bright red hair asks.

“Supposed to be seven,” Ember answers her.

“It’s seven now,” one of others complains.

The energy in this hallway is seriously low. No one wants to be here. None of us want the Alphas the new administrator is trying to push onto us. This is a recipe for disaster. I just hope I have my personal mishap before anyone else breaks up the party.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” I find myself saying. “The Alphas don’t even arrive until eight.”

“What?” Ember asks.

I turn to her. “I overheard our administrator on a call. We’re to be assessed before the Alphas get here, so she can fix any potential problem areas.”

She looks horrified. I shrug. Truthfully, Lana overheard that call, but I’m not ratting out a friend who might get in trouble for the overshare. I know Ember would never, but I don’t know the rest of these girls that well.

“There’s an Alpha coming that knows me,” Ember blurts.

I blink at her. “You know an Alpha?”

“He was at my high school.”

I can tell by her tone that he wasn’t someone she liked.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“I’d rather not have to talk to him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Garrett Thompson,” she tells me.

“I’ll flirt with him if you keep whoever she’s brought in for me occupied.”

“Deal.”

Then, both of us are distracted by the sight of an Omega with blue hair, who’s committed the worst mistake an Omega can make in this academy. The dress she’s wearing has been put together by two of the designer dresses that were handmade for her and placed in her closet. Pink and form fitting on one side, it’s purple and flowing on the other.

“Wow. Points for creative flair, but Edith’s going to have kittens when she sees that.”

“Hey, Terri,” Ember greets the dead-girl-walking.

“Hey, Ember,” she greets back, beaming like I didn’t just tell her she fucked up. “I guess your migraine’s gone?”

“All gone,” Ember says. “A nap and painkillers took care of it.”

“Awesome. I’m so glad you’re here …”

“I’ll be over there,” I tell them, not wanting to get dragged through an awkward conversation while all I can think about is how pissed off our administrator’s going to be that Terri messed with her custom-made closet. “Nice to meet you.”

I walk away, going over to talk to one of the less insane Omegas.

---