Page 37 of Impossible

“It’s kind of chilly.” It is unseasonably cold for May, and I know the evening air will have a bite to it, but the thought of listening to her chewing noises in this tiny, unfamiliar room makes my skin crawl.

I shrug.

“Do you have an extra coat or something?” she asks.

I nod at my closet. “Go wild.”

When she’s equipped she starts heading for the tables in the common space out front from the dorm, but I grab her elbow to stop her. She follows my gaze to the banks of windows from onlooking dorm rooms, then nods dutifully.

I take us around the side of the building instead, until we’re hidden on a narrow strip of grass between the end of the dorm and the dark woods. Not a window in sight. A single orange lamp hangs off the building to illuminate the emergency exit.

“So, how are you liking things so far?” Cecilia asks as she splits the plates between us.

Half a sandwich and some fruit salad—melon and strawberries and blueberries. I angle myself away from her, so she’ll only see me chewing in profile.

“It’s weird. I still can’t believe it’s all real.”

“I know,” Cecilia gushes. “I was twelve when I came and I can barely remember my first months here.”

“How old are you now?”

“I turned sixteen last week!”

So, she is younger than me. I wonder how old she was when she fought her eating disorder. I wonder what made her sick. My stomach sours at the thought of her feeling less than—I’ve known her for five minutes, but already she’s bubbling over with eagerness to tell me about the Complex, bouncy and vivacious and fun. Maybe a bit much, but already I feel my edges softening. I see why the Complex chose to send her, ED or not.

“So, any alphas caught your eye yet?” she wiggles her brows at me. I have to laugh.

“No, I’m gonna do a medical heat. Not into the whole ‘alpha’ thing.”

“Oh, you’ll change your mind,” she waves her hand at me and takes a bite of sandwich. “Nobody does medical heats.”

“Why?”

“It’s like… childbirth on steroids. Just like… ugh,” she shudders. “Not worth it. Trust me.”

I don’t feel the need to argue with her. “The only alphas I know are teachers and the stampede that almost took me out on Friday, so not really anything to get excited about.”

“Ooh, you like an instructor? Cora ended up mating with the English teacher. Apparently there’s supposed to be a full-time replacement, but he’s gone AWOL, so we just have this stuffy sub instead.”

“Wait, your friend mated with herteacher?No wonder he got fired…”

Cecilia laughs. “He wasn’t fired, the pack just moved so Cora could go to university in California.”

My eyes practically bug out. “So, it’s… ok to date teachers?”

Cecilia shrugs. “I don’t think anybody goes aroundtryingto date an instructor. And definitely not before graduating. It just depends on what the heat sheets say.”

“Heat sheets?”

“The Coalition does genetic testing on all alphas and omegas to suggest ideal pack pairings for omegas courting or on rotation. The heat sheets don’t lie. If one of those packs has a teacher in it, well, ya know, small world. Everybody comes through the Complex at some point or other.”

I chew for a moment, mulling that over. I try not to think about Leon. It doesn’t go well.

“Ooh, you do have a teacher crush, don’t you?” Cecilia teases. I’m glad my back is to the light so she can’t see me blush.

“No,” I say lamely. “Who’s Drake? Shawn Drake?”

“Oh, he’s justdreamy,” Cecilia sighs. Just mentioning his name is enough to launch her into an introduction of all the alphas I need to know around campus. Shawn Drake is at the top of the list of ‘incredibly desirable Pack-alphas-to-be’. Jared Anderson and Michael James are on the ‘avoid at all costs’ list, and then there’s a whole slew of omega names I don’t even attempt to follow.

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