Page 72 of Impossible

“Um. A teacher.”

“You’re eating with Trainer Midas.”

I nod. I fight to keep my scent down. It feels like trying to write with a wet noodle.

I couldn’t fall asleep for hours last night, trying to find words for the taste of the air he breathed. The stubble on his cheeks, rough on my palms. The tortured look in his eyes.

I must have looked so pathetic, practically begging him to kiss me. Never have I stooped so low before. And, I resolved last night, I willneverstoop so low again.

Hence, de-scenter.

I haven’t touched my pancakes. They’re cold now, the syrup and butter congealed. My stomach flips at the thought of eating. I want to see Leon. I can’t imagine facing him.

Leon listens to me. He takes me seriously, and teases me, and thinks I’m beautiful. I feel safe with him. He makes me want to be better. And also naked. And I can’t live with the dissonance of that. Because naked and exposed is not safe, no matter what lies my hormones might tell me.

Cecilia is watching me, scenting my turmoil. Irritation flashes. Is this how things are always going to be? Every emotion I feel, broadcast for everybody?

I like Midas Pack. But I can’tlikethem. It’s just too dangerous. I’ll opt for medical heats, start de-scenting myself around them, and maybe, just maybe, I can have some friends.

The thought of it makes me ache. I miss friends. I miss Rose and Cam. So much has happened in the past week, I can’t seem to wrap my brain around it. I can’t ruin the tenuous friendship I’ve made with Leon and his pack.

“Me and an alpha in an enclosed space?” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “Seems like best practices.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Cecilia doesn’t look pleased about it. I don’t know why—there’s no shame in using de-scenter, from what I can tell. They use it to clean the Complex hallways, on all the linens, in the bathrooms, it’s just best practices. I’m being good. I’m doing the right thing.

“You don’t have to register yet Indie, you can wait a little longer. The default is a medical heat, no need to actively opt in.” Ms. O’Brien faces off with me across her desk.

“I don’t want to get another one of these.” I hold out the pack sheet to her. Her eyes widen as she reads it, just like Cecilia’s.

“Wow,” she breathes.

“Yeah. I’m not interested.”

“I understand. This list is… very political.” Her voice carries an edge to it that I haven’t heard before. “But… are you sure? About the medical heat?”

I nod. “Never been so sure in my life.”

“Indie… what about Midas Pack? Leon and his packmates seem very fond of you.”

My cheeks flush and I look away. “No. They’re just friends. I don’t want that.”

Ms. O’Brien shifts in her seat uncomfortably. “There’s nothing wrong if you did want that, you know that, right?”

“They’re not on the list, so.” I shrug. “And this way I can hang out with them without the Complex having a cow.”

“Indie… I don’t feel right signing you up yet. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Cecilia said you have a video of a medical heat. Show me. Then I’ll know, and you can sign me up.”

Ms. O’Brien purses her lips. “I wish Cecilia hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Why not? Everybody sees it, right?”

“You’ve known you’re an omega for less than a week, Indie. Most omegas don’t see heat videos until they’ve gotten nearly a year of classes. And counseling.”

“Well, I don’t really have the luxury of time, do I?” I counter.

She sighs. “No, I suppose you don’t. Though I wish you did. How about a deal?”

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