More of a Listener

I spend the rest of third period trying to collect myself, dozens of questions swirling around in my head. First and foremost: Alastair's unexpected reaction to his friends' bullying, not to mention how he coincidentally showed up at just the right moment. True, Alastair has never joined the rest of his friends in bullying me, but I always thought that was because he considered himself above all that, like a supervillain who might send his minions to do his dirty work.

In fact, were Deron and the gang even his friends at all or were they just afraid of him? Their reaction to his reprimanding today seemed to indicate they didn't have the best relationship, despite what I had previously thought.

I also realized that viewing Alastair as a supervillain—even a super foxy supervillain—might have been a bit juvenile of me. I'd never even talked with the guy before today—still haven't really—but he didn't seem to totally hate me like I assumed. In fact he had defended me... But why?

I'm still worried and unsettled by the whole encounter when I meet up with my friends for lunch. As soon as I walk through the cafeteria's double doors, Ellie comes bounding up to me. Her bright smile fades slightly when she sees the dark expression I haven't quite managed to hide.

"You alright, bro?" she asks worriedly. I breathe in trying to calm my frayed nerves before smiling at her thinly.

"Yeah, fine." She looks skeptical, but knows me well enough not to pry. Bless her.

"Coach Yukiya told me he was really impressed by your quick attacks today." He told me the same thing; she is just repeating it to try to cheer me up. It sort of works.

"Yeah, but you still crushed it, picking up almost every one of them." I shove her playfully.

She just shrugs, smiling sheepishly. "I just know your game by now, because we've been practicing all summer. I'm sure there isn't another libero in the district who can pick up your quicks. We'll make it to regionals for sure this year." I smile at her, hoping she is right.

After choosing food from the lunch line, we join the members of the pack that share this lunch block. Taylor and David are there, as well as Oscar (another senior on the football team) and his quiet mate, Ashley. I like them well enough, but they sort of keep to themselves; newly mated and totally obsessed with each other. They wave to me when I sit down next to David.

Much to my chagrin, Tiffany Baker is also sitting with us. When Ellie sits down across from her, she immediately starts yacking her ear off about some fashion emergency. Tiffany is the only other omega in the pack close to Ellie's and my age. She is everything my mother would define as a "proper omega".

She's not necessarily as naturally beautiful as Ellie or me, but she knows how to doll herself up and act the part of a demure yet elegant sub. Her bleached blonde hair is always curled to perfection in contrast to Ellie's natural curls that are swept up in a high ponytail or mine that are shaved completely off save for a wild patch at the crown of my head. Where Ellie and I wear modern, metro threads with dark palettes and clean color blocking, Tiffany is all floral-patterned blouses and pink plaid miniskirts. Where Ellie and I keep our nails trimmed short for volleyball, Tiffany is never without a fresh French manicure.

I honestly can't stand her enough to even exchange pleasantries, but she's Ellie's friend, so I won't ever voice out loud my distaste for this girl who is faker than Hannah Montana. It's not that she has ever been rude directly to my face, but I know she doesn't hesitate to gossip about my "less than omegan" qualities behind my back. I can just tell that she doesn't like me, despite the fact that we barely interact.

I got the impression in middle school that she wanted all us omegas to be "besties". Swap embarrassing heat stories or some nonsense like that. Needless to say, she was pretty disappointed when she realized we had literally nothing in common. But people being disappointed in me? What's new?

Now she just smiles to my face and smack talks about me to the entire pack. Not that I would care... if only the rumors she spread didn't inevitably find their way back to my mother. I was really hoping to avoid her this year, but whatever. She is probably just jealous of my relationship with David. She has always been weirdly obsessed with him.

I was probably being petty when I smooched David hello for just a little bit longer than was necessary. But when she paused her fashion-disaster story mid-sentence to stare at us kissing, I couldn't hold back my self-satisfied smirk. Maybe I shouldn't antagonize her. After all, she could be the future Luna for all I know. But I doubted it. She is a total bitch and David is just too sweet to have her as a soulmate.

I take my seat between my sister and my boyfriend, just as Taylor uses the lull in the conversation to change topics away from fashion. "Can't believe Coach scheduled a practice game for the first week of school!" He complains around a mouth full of food.

"I know!" David groans in agreement. "And I heard a goliath will be joining the Clearview team as a freshman this year! Barely fourteen and the kid is bigger than me! I swear he must have gone through puberty at seven!" David bemoans. I shudder slightly at the thought of anyone bigger than David: my boyfriend is The Rock level ripped.

"Maybe we need to step up our game too, get some fresh meat on the team." He looks my way, wiggling his eyebrows. I try to subtly shake my head at him, pleading with him to not say what I think he is about to say. Of course, he doesn't listen. "Cam, you should totally join the team!" He beams like he's had the best idea ever. "Put those new biceps of yours to good use!" I peek over nervously at David. He is glaring at Taylor. The rest of the table looks uncomfortable, with Tiffany giving me an outright disgusted look and Ellie throwing me a sympathetic one.

I chuckle nervously, "I think I'll just stick to volleyball." Of course, I'm flattered that Taylor thinks I'm good enough to be on the football team, but as I've already said, I actually really hate football. Plus, I don't need him stirring the pot between David and I. He has made it abundantly clear multiple times how he feels about submissives joining the super-varsity team. Some nonsense about the guys not being able to hold back in the "heat of the game".

Taylor just shrugs as if he hasn't noticed the awkwardness that's fallen over the table. "If you change your mind, tryouts are after school tomorrow. Just saying we could really use some strong players next year after Davy and Oscar are gone. Just think of how much fun we could have together! As the only werewolf seniors on the team, we might even be chosen to be co-captains!"

I smile at the thought, momentarily entertaining the idea. Taylor is loud and energetic—everything I'm not—but that's why I like hanging out with him. He does enough talking for both of us. Plus, it would be super fun to boss Barrett around next year; pay him back for the years of torment. But I pale at Taylor's next words, "The babes will be all over us bro!"

David growls. I place my hand on his thigh, trying to placate him. "Uh, Taylor? I'm gay," I chuckle nervously.

"And taken," David adds darkly.

Taylor just laughs. "Doesn't stop the whole cheerleading squad from showing up to every one of your volleyball games to check you out!" he howls playfully. "I don't know if you know this, bro, but you've got a fan club among the humans."

"It's true." Ashley speaks up for the first time in this whole conversation. "I heard some of the girls in first period…" She trails off after David's glare shifts from Taylor to her. She squeaks, hiding behind Oscar who glares back at David for scaring his mate.

"Can we please stop talking about this?" I beg. "As much as I love hanging out with you Taylor, I don't really enjoy football… I just like watching David play," I tack on hastily, squeezing David's hand. He smiles at me warmly and I breathe a sigh of relief that he appears satisfied with my response.

"Yeah, Cam and I are more of cheerleaders when it comes to football," Ellie says helpfully. "Speaking of which, we need to strategize some new cheers for the Saturday game. You in Tiffany? Ashley?"

The girls nod eagerly and the conversation transitions to a brainstorming session on what rhymes with "Grandville". "Will", "kill", "drill", and apparently "fear" and "year"? I don't get that one. Like I've already mentioned, poetry is not my thing, so I'm content to just half-listen.

I pass the rest of lunch that way, jumping between listening to the girls debating rhyming schemes and the boys reviewing football plays, never really participating. But that's ok. I'm more of a listener anyways.