Allen’s first last day of school was going as expected. The new seniors had a meeting in the gym during first period, to kick off their school year and take their class photo. Second period was weight training, so by the time third period rolled around, he was vaguely sweaty and not looking forward to the new class. As a senior, there wasn’t much for him to take beyond his core classes (English, Math, Science, Social Studies), and the extra slots in his schedule he’d picked at random. He hadn’t taken an art class since middle school, and there was nothing else for him to take during third, so he was in Art I: drawing and painting class.

He’d never been in the art classroom before, and he could smell the cheap acrylic and graphite before he even stepped through the door. Inside reflected what he’d had in mind, a colorful, if messy place, with art projects and supplies strewn about the counters with seemingly no rhyme or reason. The desks were made up of fold out tables large enough to sit two students each. The class was half full already, but they still had at least another five minutes before the bell would ring. His eyes roamed the already seated students, but there were no recognizable seniors in the class yet. He saw a few faces he didn’t recognize, freshman and transfers he’d yet to meet. Finally his eyes caught a figure in the second to last row, and he sighed in relief.

“Hey.” He greeted as he approached, plopping his backpack down and sitting in the empty seat beside his neighbor.

Robbie jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. Then his nose crinkled, and he set his phone down to look at him. “You smell like sweat.” He said. “Also, I’m saving this seat.”

“I just got out of weight training. And I don’t care. I don’t know anyone else in this class.”

Robbie scowled, pinching his arm, hard, “I don’t care. Move.”

“You don’t want to sit next to your oldest friend?” Allen sent him a fake pout.

“No. You’re going to ruin my reputation.”

“Reputation as what? A dweeb?” They never interacted at school last year, but every time he’d seen a freshman Robbie, he was always surrounded by other band kids, the weird ones always smelled like they’d never heard of deodorant and wore anime shirts from hot topic. Allen supposed he couldn’t say much though, apparently he smelled like body odor himself.

“I swear to the goddess-“

“I’ll tell your mom that you sneak out every Friday.”

Robbie’s face paled, “I don’t sneak out.”

“Yes, you do. Our rooms face each other’s remember? You climb out the window at eleven every Friday. Aren’t most of those nerds you hang out with Alphas? Your mom would lose her shit and your dads-“

“Okay, fine! You can sit here, but if you say anything to my parents I’m telling yours that you throw parties every time they’re out of town.”

“Deal.” Allen agreed easily. Some kid that Robbie was friends with shot him a desperate look when they saw the seat next to him was occupied. Robbie shrugged his shoulders helplessly and the guy sat a couple of rows ahead.

The bell finally rang, and the art teacher promptly introduced himself along with a, “I hope everyone likes the seat they chose, because that’s your assigned seat for this semester!”

Robbie groaned beside him.

͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Robbie wasn’t very good at school, in general. He wasn’t dumb by any means (at least he didn’t think so), but academics had never come easily to him. Science was hard and math was even harder, and sometimes the two combined, and it was something of Robbie’s nightmares. Social studies was boring, and Robbie had never cared to know what long dead people fought about. Gym was a whole other can of worms. You’d think after two summers of band camp it’d be easier but… it wasn’t. It wasn’t even about gym itself, but dressing out…

The only thing that he really excelled at was English. He liked reading, and he liked grammar and sentence structure and analyzing text. He’d taken both his freshman and sophomore English credits last year, so this year he was placed in the junior AP class.

He sat in the back of the classroom, next to a bulletin board tacked with cheap prints of Shakespeare and Orwell. He wouldn’t really know anyone in the class, but that was okay. He’d just spend the period working on his math homework and hiding his phone under the desk.

Robbie was tracing where someone had etched a butterfly into the desk when the smell of lavender hit his nose. His head snapped up, already bemoaning his luck as he watched his long-time crush enter the room. Scott Wilkey was in the year above him, and even though they’d went to the same district all of their lives, he’d never talked to him.

Scott was someone untouchable. He’d been in the top of his class since elementary school, on the student council since middle, voted class president the year before, and captain of the tennis team. He also volunteered on the weekends, apparently at the local animal shelter. He was ridiculously perfect, and so far out of Robbie’s league that he never had any reason to talk to the older Omega.

Scott didn’t even glance Robbie’s way as he sat in the first row, closest to the board. Robbie swooned anyway, as he stared at the back of his head. Even his curls were perfect.

͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Scott woke up to an empty house.

Which wasn’t abnormal. His parents had early morning shifts at the hospital for the next two weeks. His younger siblings weren’t old enough to stay home alone, so they were sent off to his grandparents the night before. There wasn’t even a note on the fridge wishing him good luck on his first day of school.

He supposed he shouldn’t have expected one. It was his junior year, he was nearly finished with his years of public education. Then he would have college, and residency, and then mate, start a family… Scott quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind. Sometimes his fate made him feel nauseous.

He settled on grabbing an apple on his way out the door.

School was school. Three years in he knew what to expect, from his new locker to Colin the finding him immediately. Colin slung his arm across his shoulders as they went to first period. The day was normal. He sat in the front of each class and suffered through icebreakers and the syllabi, took home a small stack of papers he’d sign for his parents. He’d perfected their signatures by the time he was in fifth grade.

His parents were sleeping when he got home. He knew they were home because their cars were in the garage, and the door to their bedroom was closed. He quietly made himself dinner, finished up what little schoolwork he had, then went to his room to watch TV.

His mother had been in his room. It wasn’t enough that she’d left her scent everywhere, she’d also tampered with his nest, straightened out his blankets and moved his stuffed animals to the bin at the end of his bed. His mom was an Alpha and his dad and Beta, so they’d never really understood his “Omega behaviors”. They didn’t like messiness or clutter, and his nest constituted both. Which meant once or twice a week his mother invaded his room to straighten out his bed.

Scott sighed, ignoring his empty, wrong nest and instead going to change into pajamas. Looks like he was going to spend his evening scenting his bed and making sure his plushies were in the right spots.