“Fine.” June pulled away. Then she hesitated. “Hey, what’s your address? I’ve got a couple of things I want to mail to you.”
He frowned. “What are they? You could hand them over now, if you have them. I’ll be back over the next few days to grade the finals.”
She winced. “You don’t want it now, trust me.”
“You can’t do that. You’re going to drive me insane wondering about it.”
“I...” June sighed, picking up a pastel-pink envelope. “It’s my wedding invite. Four months from now. I was going to ask if you wanted to be our best omega.”
June was getting married. Dale had forgotten, caught up as he was with Greg. And now that he no longer had an alpha, the thought made his chest squeeze. Especially when Greg had asked Dale, time and again, to marry him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, I told you. I figured it’d be better if I just mailed it.”
Dale took the envelope in his hands, picking it open. The invite was scented lightly with birch and petunia, and Dale’s chest ached, looking at the names printed in swirling gold letters. He could’ve been handing cards like this out, too. Inviting the few friends he had to a private wedding. With Greg, marriage had almost seemed plausible. Good. Wonderful.
“I’ll... just not think about it,” Dale said, swallowing hard. “But I’ll be there.”
“As my best omega?”
“Yes. I’d—I’d love to. Thank you for asking me. I’m very honored.”
She peered at him in concern. “Tell me if you can’t make it, okay? You have my number. Call me if you need help.”
“I will.” Dale tucked the invite into his cardboard boxes. “What’s the other thing you wanted to send?”
June smiled wryly, handing over a flat, wrapped gift. It was square, covered in polka-dotted paper, and tied up in twine—probably more origami paper. “It’s your birthday,” June said. “I thought paper would be a good gift.”
“I didn’t... realize it was my birthday.”
June winced. “Happy birthday?”
“Some birthday it is.” He sighed.
She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, steering him toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you away before the rest of these guys come in.”
29
Greg
For the past three weeks, they’d been leaving Dale’s apartment at 7:30 AM, heading for school in Dale’s Volkswagen. They’d pull into the campus parking lot at 7:45. Greg would drop Dale off, and park the car.
The morning after The Apex, Greg pulled into Dale’s parking lot at 7:15, his heart sinking at the boxes stacked by Dale’s front door.
You’d meant it when you said you were leaving.
He hadn’t slept at all last night. Several times, Greg had considered driving over to Dale’s apartment, just to see if he’d gotten home safe. But he knew Dale wouldn’t have answered the door. Dale never replied to his texts, and Greg had slept with his phone nestled in his hand, waiting for a call. Dale never rang.
The Volkswagen wasn’t in the parking lot. When Greg stepped up to the front door, he found his basketball jerseys folded in the topmost box, laid on top of T-shirts and jeans. They smelled like aspen and hibiscus and laundry detergent—Dale had picked them from the laundry hamper and washed them last night. Laundry day wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow.
In the second box, Greg found his toothbrush, soap, and shampoo, his boxers and socks. In the third box, Dale had stashed his mug, his stationery and backpack, and some textbooks. There were more boxes beneath these, but he hadn’t the heart to see what else Dale had thrown out.
For a heartbeat, he considered leaving the boxes here, so he wouldn’t have to move them when Dale welcomed him back.
He tried the doorknob. It was locked.
The curtains had been drawn, and the apartment looked spotless. There was no sign of movement. No textbooks or stray clothes on the couch.
He pulled his phone out, dialed Dale’s number again.
“The number you’re calling is currently unavailable. At the tone, please leave your message.”
He hit the End Call button, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Dale hadn’t answered any of his calls, either.
Dale didn’t want to see him. Greg hadn’t wanted to believe it last night, but it was slowly sinking in. And he’d failed as an alpha, hadn’t he?
Slowly, Greg moved the boxes into his car. It was a tight fit in the Porsche—with no backseat and a tiny trunk, he had to squeeze boxes into the passenger’s leg compartment, cramming them all the way to the ceiling.
Then he drove to the college, faster than he should, and breathed a sigh when he found Dale’s car in the chemistry lab parking lot. The car was empty. But Dale had been well enough to drive, and that meant something.
The lab was locked when he reached it. Greg turned, heading down the hallways to Dale’s office. Midway there, he bumped into June.
She wasn’t surprised to see him. “Didn’t take you long, did it?”
“Where’s he?”
“Around.” June glanced over her shoulder. “He said your name will still be on the nano-gold research paper.”
Greg frowned. What paper? The one he’d helped with, when Dale had gone to nap in his office? “I don’t care about the paper.”
“Dale thought you might.” June shrugged, nodding at the hallway where he’d just come from. “Walk with me?”
“I’m looking for Dale. Is he in his office?”
“He should’ve left by now.”
But I just saw his car! Greg spun around, and June grabbed his arm. She was surprisingly strong—he jerked to a stop, frowning back at her. Then he sniffed. There was a faint hibiscus scent on her, mixed with birch and petunia. Dale hugged you? His heart kicked.
“Look, let him be for a while,” June said.
“He’s my omega.” Greg looked down the empty hallway. If Dale was still around, if he could catch Dale, tell him he was sorry.
“It’s his birthday today. Don’t make this harder on
