Part 6

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Note: in the context of this story, 'runt' is a slur towards omegas that is very offensive.

When we pull into the parking lot it becomes apparent to me that everyone is staring at our car. It makes me anxious as Daemon pulls up to the drop-off, offering no farewell. I take the hint and get out, greeted by the curious stares of several students. I try to keep my head down, hating the overwhelming attention I'm getting. I don't exactly know why they're staring at me but I think it probaby has something to do with Daemon dropping me off.

I fumble my already crinkled schedule out of my pocket, hands shaking as I read off my first period. Room 223-Algebra. I look around, trying to understand where I am located on the campus, looking down at the paper as I walk on. I find myself bumping into someone not a minute later, stumbling back as my schedule falls to the floor.

"Watch where you're going, runt,"

I look up with wide eyes at the mean-looking alpha I've bumped into. As he and the two side-kicks that flank him glare at me, I feel so intimidated that I can't say anything to excuse myself.

"What? Are you deaf?" the alpha spits.

"I-I—" I stutter, trying to form words.

Suddenly there's someone beside me, a female omega with frizzy red hair who picks up my schedule off the floor. "Oh piss off, Trent." She glares at the alpha with her fierce, baby blue eyes. "You're such a fucking douchebag,"

The alpha appears unaffected by her words but seems to let go of taunting me. "Whatever. As if I care what a bitch like you thinks," he snarls as he walks off, his goons following after.

"Dickhead..!" the girl yells after them, flipping off their backs as they recede down the hallway.

Then she turns to me and gives a sympathetic smile from her rosy-cheeked freckled face. "Sorry about that, love." She says as she pats my arm. "Trent's a douche. He's got some type of superiority complex when it comes to omegas. He's been harassing us since freshman year."

"O-oh, that sounds tough," I reply dumbly. "I-I mean, thanks for helping me out," I add sheepishly.

"It's no problem love. We omegas gotta look out for each other. What's your name, by the way?" She asks as we walk down the hall and past the lockers.

"Ash, what's yours?"

"I'm Lylah. Lylah Sarkis. Are you new here?" She asks curiously.

"Y-yeah. It's my first day at this school,"

Her eyes widen at that. "Are you by any chance the boy who showed up with Daemon today?! My friend Wren texted me about an omega he's never seen before getting out of Daemon's car!"

I'm taken aback by how fast the news has spread. "You know him?"

Lylah gives me a funny look. "Duh, everyone knows Daemon Steele! He's the son of Alpha Lucien and a freaking tatted-up hottie. I don't know one omega who wouldn't kill to be in the passenger seat of his car!"

"Oh, r-really? I didn't know," I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. Daemon being famous isn't a good thing. Now everyone will be talking. And I don't wanna be the subject of their talk.

Lylah considers me for a moment before saying, "You're not...from this pack, are you?"

I feel my alert go off at the question, realizing my obliviousness to the goings ons of the pack probably make that quite obvious. But I recall the backstory Lucien made me rehearse, in order to conceal my identity. "Guilty," I admit, "I'm...an orphan from Blood Creek pack. They didn't have any room for me so Alpha Lucien took me in on a mission." It technically isn't a lie if you trade Blood Creek for Dark Moon.

Lylah's expression falls as she puts her hands over her mouth in regret. "Shit. I'm sorry I asked. I'm trying to fix my nosy habit I swear,"

I laugh lightly at her, shaking my head. "No, it's okay. I don't mind telling people,"

"Awe, Ash you're such a sweetie," she latches onto my arm, leaning down to scrunch her head to my shoulder as she's about two inches taller than me. I'm not used to this–the tender skinship from someone I've just met, but it's nice. She shows me to my class before the bell rings and promises to meet me at lunch.

Despite the inquisitive glances I get throughout my classes, no one directly approaches me about Daemon. The others students look like they want to but don't know how to ask. So everything is going pretty smoothly until 4th period.

I walk into class late after a flustered search to find the room and the only seat open is the one next to Trent. The bully alpha from this morning.

"Please sit down so we can start class," the teacher urges me. I reluctantly trudge to the desk, watching the knowing smirk that comes to Trent's face as I approach.

I just try to ignore him as I sit down, getting my supplies out. At first, Trent doesn't say anything but it doesn't last for long. I should've known my positive experience so far would soon be ruined by something.

"I heard you're Daemon's bitch?" Trent sneers, leaning his face on his hand, elbow on the desk as he angles himself toward me.

My face flushes in embarrassment at the assumption. "I'm not. He only drove me to school,"

"Yeah right. I bet he fucked you in that nice black car of his,"

I gape at him, appalled at the vulgarity of his words, especially because we've barely just met. "You're wrong..!" I say a bit too loudly, causing students' heads to swivel around and stare at me.

"Quiet, boys," the teacher scolds us before continuing to drawl on about how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

I shrink in my seat, gripping my shirt tightly, uncomfortable by the attention of the class, only relinquishing my grip until the students turn back to the front of the class.

Trent, on the other hand, looks pleased with himself, a smug look on his face as he pretends to pay attention to the lecture. I glower at him, still annoyed at what he'd said, but thankful he doesn't say any more.

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