Becoming Alpha

by Aileen Erin

  Nope. Not at all. “Totally.”

  Rosalyn’s country music filled the silence as she drove through the winding streets. I tried to tune it out, but the singer whining about losing some lame boyfriend was like needles digging in my eardrums.

  “This song is great,” I said, my lame attempt at trying to start a conversation.

  “I know, right? It’s one of my faves.” She turned it up.

  Thankfully, only a few minutes passed before she pulled into a packed driveway and parked. “Nervous?” she said.

  I wondered if the gleam in her eye meant that she was hoping I was nervous. “I’m more curious than anything.”

  “It’ll be fun. Plus, it’s Texas. We’re all nice,” she lifted one shoulder, “for the most part.”

  Yeah, I wasn’t buying that one. I had a feeling that if I got on Rosalyn’s bad side, she would become a huge pain in my ass.

  She grabbed her purse and pulled out a glittery tube of lip-gloss. “Here. Try this one.”

  Oh God. That was a terrible idea, but one I couldn’t refuse without being rude.

  “Thanks.” I took the tube from her, and with a shaking hand, started to apply the gloss in the vanity mirror.

  Short, staggering visions popped through my mind of the different places she used the gloss.

  In a bathroom. In her car. In English class. In Carlos’ car.

  And then she was at a pharmacy. She looked around as her pulse pounded. The coast was clear. She put the gloss in her pocket as she walked down the aisle, toward the exit. Her fear and excitement filled me.

  And then I was back in her car. I pulled the tube from my lips. Rosalyn was texting and hadn’t noticed a thing.

  I exhaled slowly and focused on my reflection. The gloss was slimy and sticky, but it made my lips look Angelina-plump. My eyes were lined in my favorite midnight shadow, making their brown look richer.

  “Ready?” she said.

  “Sure.” I flipped the vanity mirror shut and hopped out of the car.

  We walked across the lawn to the large brick house. A lilting beat floated across the yard. I took a look down at my outfit—black skater dress, thin silver belt, flip-flops, thin silver scarf, and black over-the-elbow gloves—as my nerves started to reach an all-time high. I smoothed my skirt down and centered the knot on my scarf as my nerves rose.

  If I could make it through the night without freaking out from some vision, then I had a chance at finding a place where I belonged—even if it wasn’t with Rosalyn’s crowd.

  Rosalyn went straight for the door, and opened it without pausing to knock. I might have been a little bit naïve—it was my first party after all—but I wasn’t expecting everyone to be drinking. Thirty kids or so were scattered around the entryway screaming at each other over the music. They all had red plastic cups in their hands.

  How in the hell did a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year olds score enough booze for everyone?

  I shook my head. Some of those cups had to be filled with soda.

  One girl gestured while talking, unaware that the contents of her cup were spilling all over the floor. A guy was falling all against a girl, who pushed him away.

  Nope. They were drunk. Unreal.

  Guess there were no parents here.

  “Good. We’re perfectly late.” Rosalyn grabbed my gloved hand. “Let’s get a drink.” She led me through the crowd to the kitchen. I spotted Jess as she rushed past me, knocking me into the wall. She ran to a powder room and slammed the door.

  “Gross. She’s always sick before the party even gets started,” Rosalyn rolled her eyes. “She seriously needs to learn to control her alcohol.”

  No kidding. And from the looks of things, there were a few people who wouldn’t be far behind Jess’ state. I knew right then that I was in over my head. I thought about calling Axel, but was too stubborn to admit that I’d been wrong about telling him not to come.

  Rosalyn towed me along with her to the kitchen. It was big with an island in the center. The counters were light speckled granite, but I couldn’t really see them under all the booze. Liquor bottles and red cups, along with an assortment of sodas and juices were spread all over the place. In front of the sink was an extra-large plastic trashcan filled with ice water and a keg floating in the center. Three boys stood around it as they filled red cups and handed them down a line of kids.

  I checked my watch. It wasn’t even 8:30 yet. How were there so many people already drunk?

  Carlos was filling shot glasses on the counter with some amber colored liquor.

  Right. That was how.

  He looked up at me. “Hey, Tessa. Glad you could make it,” he said with a grin. His dimples made him look more charming than he actually was.

  He hadn’t said anything to Rosalyn, and by the look she gave him, she was pissed. I so didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

  “How about a proper welcome to Texas? Take a shot of tequila.”

  Rosalyn dropped my arm and stepped back. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  At that the other three boys who were lined up for a shot looked at me. My palms started sweating. I’d never taken one. I’d never even had a drop of alcohol before. Would it make me act stupid? Or worse—would my visions go crazy?

  That was not appealing at all.

  Finding a way to be normal was my goal here. I snatched the glass that Carlos held out for me with my gloved hand.

  “We take ‘em Texas style here,” he said.

  I gave my best fake-confident smile. “Okay. What exactly does that mean?”

  “Here, let me show you. Take off your glove.”

  There was no way I wanted to do that, but I’d already committed.

  As soon as the glove was off, he grabbed my hand and, looking me straight in the eye, licked it.

  I was instantly drowning in his hormones.

  Glimpses of half-dressed girls. Moans echoed in the backseat of his car. Flashes of wet skin.

  As soon as he dropped my hand, I was back in my own body. I grabbed onto the counter as the dizziness faded. That was the fifth time I’d been in the backseat of Carlos’ car this week, thankfully never in my own body. I made a promise to myself to keep it that way.

  The wet streak glistened on my hand. Was that supposed to be sexy?

  He grabbed a saltshaker and put some onto the wet spot.

  Oh no. Please don’t mean what I think that means.

  He reached down to a bowl of sliced limes, and handed me one. I took it with my gloved hand.

  “All right. So, we motion up and say, ‘Por arriba.’ That means for above. Then we motion down and say, ‘Por abajo.’ For below. Then we motion out and say, ‘Por alcentro.’ For the center. Then we say, ‘Por aldentro.’ For inside. And then lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime. In that order. Got it?”

  I nearly rolled my eyes. Most people heard my last name and just assumed I was white, but my mother was Mexican. Thanks to her I could speak Spanish.

  “Lo entiendo, chavo.”

  Carlos’ face went blank for a second. “You Latin?”

  I nodded. “My mother is. So, yes.”

  “Cool.” He paused. “What’s chavo mean?”

  Christ. With a name like Carlos Rodriguez and his explaining of how to take the shot, I totally thought he spoke Spanish. “It means dude. I said I understand it, dude.”

  “Sweet.”

  “Yup.” But still I wished I didn’t have to eat spit-salt.

  “You know you don’t have to do this. They’re just stupid boys,” Rosalyn said. She crossed her arms.

  Fantastic. She had to say that after I said I’d do it. There was no backing down now, not without looking like an idiot.

  Damn it. I was already an idiot. Her boy had been a little flirty with me and now she wanted me to make a fool of myself. I should’ve noticed before I agreed to the shot. “No, I’ve got it.” I tried to keep my hand steady as I held the tiny glass.

 
“Whatever,” she said as she started to inspect her manicure.

  “All right, everyone. Shots at the ready,” Carlos lifted up his shot glass in salute.

  “Ready!” the boys yelled.

  “Por arriba. Por abajo. Por alcentro. Por aldentro.” I said with the boys, then quickly licked the salt, forcing myself not to grimace as a new flash of visions burned my brain courtesy of Carlos. I drank the shot in one swallow, and tried to ignore the burning in my throat as I shoved the sour lime in my mouth with my gloved hand.

  That wasn’t so bad.

  The boys laughed, and one gave me a high five as I put my discarded lime on the counter.

  “Good work,” Carlos said.

  “Thanks.” Smiling back at him, I finally felt the confidence I’d been faking. I could do this. I could be one of them. I could control my visions and come off as cool. As normal. I was totally rocking it.

  Chapter Eight

  “Oookay. Well, thanks for that Carlos.” Rosalyn’s words were clipped, bringing me crashing back down to reality.

  That was nice while it lasted. I shook my head as I pulled on my glove. I’d have lost with her either way I played it. I was going to have to figure out who I wanted to be actual friends with and fast. Keeping up with Rosalyn and her mood swings was enough to drive anyone mad.

  Rosalyn held up two fingers. The boy closest to the keg grabbed two red plastic cups and started filling them with beer. Being totally underage, I had no idea what my limit was in terms of alcohol, but I was going to have to watch it. I wanted to blend in, not end up like Jess.

  When he handed us the beers, Rosalyn grabbed my hand again. “Bye, boys. We’re going to go see who else is here.”

  She pulled me into the living room, where some hip-hop was blaring. Not anything I would ever choose to listen to, but a vast improvement from the country music that Rosalyn favored. I hadn’t had my dancing fix in a while, so I’d take it.

  All of the furniture in the room had been pushed against the walls. A bunch of people danced in the middle of it, grinding into each other. Others sat on the couch and chairs around the room. I couldn’t help but stare at the couple making out on the couch. Didn’t they feel weird doing that out in the open? The guy grabbed the girl’s boob, and I looked away.

  There was no way I’d let any guy maul me in public. I don’t care how many shots I had. It’d never happen. I respected myself too much for that.

  I took a sip of the beer and gagged. It tasted like pee, not that I’d ever actually tasted pee, but what I imagined pee might taste like.

  Rosalyn chugged her beer and then dropped the cup on the floor. “Let’s dance,” Rosalyn yelled into my ear as she pulled me into the middle of room.

  Not sure what to do with my drink, I held onto it. I tried not to spill as I swayed back and forth. When I went out with Axel, I usually stayed off to the side or in dance circles where there was more room, and I always wore something that covered nearly every inch of my body. But this was out of control, especially in my dress.

  I should have worn long sleeves, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in the Texas heat. Just the four inches of exposed skin between my gloves and the cap sleeves of my dress was enough to drive my second sight crazy. The press of bodies moving to the music was overwhelming. Wave after wave of visions hit me.

  I hope he likes me.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  That guy is totally checking me out.

  I can totally see down her shirt. This drink is gross. She’s totally into me. I am totally going to get laid tonight. He’s a bad kisser I think I smell I’m totally hotter Yeah baby come to papa

  The floor rocked. All the emotions that everyone was feeling built on top of each other. The visions were crazy. Usually when I got one from physical contact with another person, I saw the last thing that affected them emotionally. But since everyone was well on their way to wasted, whatever they were thinking and what they were feeling were the same thing. So I was seeing what everyone was thinking.

  That might’ve sounded like a cool superpower before, but now I knew mind reading wasn’t something I enjoyed. At all. The only thing I was feeling that was all mine was the nausea. I needed air.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest, and hunched over them so no one else could touch my skin. To the side of the dance floor there was a sliding door. “I’m going to go get some air,” I yelled in Rosalyn’s ear.

  “Cool,” she said and went back to her swaying.

  The air outside hit me in the face with a wall of wet heat, but one by one, all the other feelings and visions faded away until I was left alone with my nausea. The backyard was so dark that I couldn’t see where it ended.

  Mr. Dawson had said that there was a big creek behind the neighborhood. The dark part was probably where the drop started. I walked toward the edge of the darkness, where the ground started to slope. Yup. My house had to be somewhere down the edge here since both our houses backed up to the creek.

  I sat down on the grass and contemplated walking home.

  Listening to the sounds of the night, I took another sip of the beer and gagged again. Even though I was dying for a cold drink, I couldn’t choke it down. I looked around to see if anyone else was outside, and then pitched the liquid into the creek.

  “Hey!” A voice shouted from the darkness.

  I jumped up. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I totally didn’t see you.” A shape of a guy stepped into the light—tall, definitely over six feet, with dark hair. He was brushing himself off. His eyes glowed yellow in the moonlight. My breath caught.

  “It’s fine.” Dastien motioned to my now empty cup. “Not to your taste?”

  “No.” My face flamed. “I really am sorry. I didn’t see you.” He was wearing the same black jeans and black T-shirt he had on earlier. When he shoved his hands in his pockets, a line of his skin peeked from beneath the shirt.

  I looked down at his feet to get away from the overload he caused, but even the sight of his bare feet on the grass made my heart stop.

  Where were his shoes?

  He put his finger under my chin, lifting my head until our eyes met. I squeezed mine closed, dreading the vision that would come.

  Running through the forest. Smell of grass and trees. And a rabbit. Hunt.

  He dropped his hand to his side, and the vision went away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  That was it? A feeling of running, the smells of nature, and a slight urge to chase animals. What kind of guy thought about those things? And why didn’t I see the usual triple-X rated show? A guy that hot had to be a chick-magnet of extreme proportions. No way was he celibate.

  I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until I gasped for air. I seemed to do that a lot around him. The burning in my cheeks slowly spread through my whole body.

  “Vamanos, Dastien,” a deep voice said from the dark.

  Squinting, I tried to find where it was coming from.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, keeping his gaze on me.

  I smiled. I didn’t think I could stand it if he left so soon.

  “Dude,” said a different voice. “Not a good idea. You know—”

  Dastien had his back to me before I even saw him move. I stepped away from him as a growl echoed through the darkness.

  The guys must have a dog out there. Some kind of really big and scary sounding dog.

  “Fine. It’s your funeral if anything happens. Come on, Cody. Let’s go.”

  Dastien turned back to me and sat next to my feet as if that little exchange hadn’t happened. “How was your day?” He smiled as he held out a hand.

  I laughed at his so very ordinary question. “It was okay, I guess.” I couldn’t figure this guy out. There was something different about him. He didn’t act like any other guy I’d ever met.

  I tried to tell myself that I took his offered hand because I was curious. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that for the first time t
hat I was attracted to someone real. Movie stars and characters in novels didn’t count.

  His hand was so warm that I could feel his heat through my glove. When I settled down next to him, I thought he’d let go, but instead he laced his fingers through mine.

  I stared at our joined hands. Mine fit perfectly in his, and at once I felt completely relaxed, which never happened. Not around people. Especially not when someone was touching me.

  I was losing my mind. I had gloves on. That was the only reason that I could hold his hand.

  I searched for something to say. Something not stupid. “You said you went to St. Ailbe’s, but Mr. Dawson said you were taught there sometimes.”

  “Yup, graduated two years ago. I’m taking a year or so more before college to help out at the school.”

  “You don’t look like any teacher I’ve ever had.” I nearly slapped a hand over my mouth. I could not believe I’d just said that.

  He smiled. “Is that a good thing?”

  Whoa. Dangerous territory alert. This called for a major subject change. “You only have an accent sometimes.”

  “I’ve lived in the area for most of my life, but I was born in France.” He grinned at me. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the subject change.”

  It’s like he knew what I was thinking.

  I’d almost forgotten he was holding my hand until he squeezed it. The fact that he’d done that twice now—held my hand like he didn’t want to give it back—made me exceedingly happy. I had no idea what I was doing with this boy. Man. There would be plenty of time to freak out later. For now, I’d enjoy it. Him.

  “So you like books and Nine Inch Nails?” Dastien said.

  “Yes to both.”

  “And how about Texas?”

  “It might be growing on me.” Did I just say that? Someone needed to shoot me before I embarrassed myself any more. Flirting was so not my bag.

  He was quiet for a second. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

  I laughed. “That’s kind of abrupt.”

  “I guess. Thing is I can’t concentrate on the conversation right now because all I’m thinking about is kissing you—”