Page 32 of Omega Chattel
Why didn’t the others feel this way? Why was it only me?
And Tarin, well, he acted closed off, unreadable, and remained soft-spoken and polite and calm throughout the dinner. As if four Omegas in the same room with him didn’t affect him. As if we were ordinary people just like him.
I dreaded the moment he would see me in his office to discuss my day’s work. I was always the last one called in. Oren was always first. Oren never took more than five minutes alone with Tarin because he was so smart. Because all his work was done perfectly, I presumed.
Farrell and Tev also never seemed to make trouble. They stayed to themselves, quiet and quietly involved in each other when not studying. They often took off on walks, or drives in the car Tarin had provided for all of us to share.
I didn’t know how to drive yet, so I didn’t have my own set of keys. But Oren assured me driving would become a part of my lesson plans as well.
I waited in the gleaming hallway. The sun had set, so the far window at the end of the hall was dark, the teal curtains pulled back to reveal shadow upon shadow. I still couldn’t believe I was really off the streets and living here. As if I were in some kind dream.
I decided to be brave as I waited for Tarin to see me. I would not feel guilt. I would keep my head up and tell Tarin what I wanted. What I needed. I simply wasn’t cut out for science or math. I wanted to please Tarin, because those were the subjects he thought of as important, but I couldn’t focus.
And my crush on him wasn’t helping matters any, either.
Finally, Tarin called me into his office.
I walked in with my laptop and some paper notebooks I was using as worksheets.
“Hello, Alli, how was today? You were pretty quiet at dinner.” His voice washed over me with a kind of echoing cadence that seemed to infuse itself into my very pores. To anyone else, it might be a casual communication.
I could barely look at him without feeling my body tremble. From the moment I followed him on the street to now, things had only gotten worse in that respect.
There was that sensation again of an oncoming October night and a secret power behind it, a scent mixed with wood-fire and dry leaves. He was like a hot cup of tea, my mouth watering.
Tarin didn’t realize, of course, that with his every gesture—pushing his hair back from his tall, tan forehead, raising his arm with the shirt cuff rolled up to expose his skin and the underside of his elbow, leaning his tall body back in his chair so that its wheels creaked on the mat underneath it—he was causing parts of me to dissolve and drift away, my mind a tangle, my bones a jumble.
He reached for my work books. I dropped one as I handed them to him. One of the books was bent wrong, the back cover folded to a crease.
I leaned over to pick up the fallen book.
“What happened?” he asked, looking at their state.
“I’m sorry.” What was this? Me apologizing again. Fear came up to consume me when I knew he wasn’t going to do anything terrible. Somehow, though, my body didn’t know that. My body didn’t know anything, or obey simple commands, it seemed. One minute it was melty and full of longing and the next it was pulling back, cringing at my guilt, anticipating the closet or the paddle which Gray had wielded until it left bruises.
Tarin wouldn’t do that.
“Sit, Alli,” Tarin said, indicating the chair next to him.
I plunked myself down, staring at my closed computer in my lap.
“Did you drop this one before now?” Tarin asked, holding up the creased and damaged workbook.
I took a deep breath. “I threw it across the room.”
“You threw--?”
I forced myself to look him in the eye. I’d done it with Gray many times, made myself face him and not look away. But I didn’t feel the same as I did now. For one, I hated Gray. I didn’t care what he did. But Tarin—I liked him very much. I cared too much. About what he would think. Do. Say.
Without another word, Tarin opened the workbooks. Then he opened some windows on his computer and read for a while. All my assignments were open for him to see on his computer.
“I see,” he said. “You’re having trouble with science. And math. An—“
“Everything!” I blurted.
He looked at me with keen blue eyes and the color in them seemed to shift dark to light to dark with his unspoken thoughts.
He frowned at me. “You are still doing sloppy work.”
