Living
1753 Words
The moment I get home, I throw my backpack on the floor and go to my room to pull out my phone and see what's going on. Of course, Redboxinggloves is doing his thing once again.
@RedBoxingGloves: "You can't miss this Saturday the 5th the #rematch between @GrayBull and @RogersJake Who will be the winner? Oh, well, that answer is obvious."
How does that person know when the rematch will be and I don't? And why are so many people commenting that they're #TeamJake like we're talking about that stupid vampire movie Angie used to be obsessed with?
To my surprise, there are also several people who are #TeamGray and it's not just omegas lusting after me, there are several alphas commenting that too. I take it upon myself to reply to as many as I can and then go on to stalk that stupid account I hate so much.
@RedBoxingGloves: "Riddle of the day: who is this mystery omega walking around #BeastMaker today?"
There are two attached photos of Midnight where almost all you can see are her endless, luscious legs and perfect äss. Her face is not very visible, but it's still obvious that she's beautiful. Maybe that's why her photos have over five thousand retweets. The replies are stupid, the alphas make perverted comments and the omegas make comments full of envy like she needs to eat a hamburger. That may be true, but her body is perfect and she doesn't need anything.
@RedBoxingGloves: "Nobody guessed. Her name is Midnight and she is none other than the long lost daughter of Lion Vosse. A half-wolf. I look forward to her return to #BM tomorrow."
I stop myself from replying to those comments because I think I might get in trouble. Also, I'm not sure if Midnight is going to be happy with this new attention she's about to get.
If I say anything and let it be known that we are friends, everything is going to get worse for her. I'm not the most loved person in the clan (or other clans) and it definitely wouldn't give her a very good reputation.
I put my phone aside after being on it for almost half an hour and pick up my book, ready to sit down and read it.
I'm not a kid anymore, I don’t have mental issues anymore, I can sit still for more than five minutes and pay attention.
I'm serious. I swear.
For added excitement, I start reading aloud.
"’The transcendence of Pythagoras lies in philosophy and mathematics. A philosopher who-‘ Agghh! How boring!" I throw the stupid book on the floor and plop down on the bed, covering my eyes.
I can't do it. I just can't. I can't even remember the few words I just read. I'd rather a thousand times to put all my energy and attention into something that amuses me like that equation I still can't get right.
I would love to be like Midnight, read anything and have it stored in my brain automatically. That would make my life so much easier.
But... I guess since I can't be her, it's a good thing I have her so close.
I grab my book and computer and almost run out of my apartment and into Lion's. He's in the living room when I get there.
"Hey, I was just about to call you. Angie's out with Bastian. Do you want to order something?"
"Yeah, anything you want. Listen, I need Midnight's help with an assignment, where is she?"
"You need help?" he asks, looking at me with confusion.
"Yes, I need to read a book. It's about a mathematical philosopher and.... I can't do it," I explain. Lion nods as he understands the situation.
"She’s in Angie's old room. Try to make it quick, I'm starving."
I assure him it will be quick and head for her room. I knock on the door but open it anyway, if she's going to be part of the pack she has to get used to the idea that there is no privacy between us.
"Hey!" Mid exclaims sounding scared and curls up in her bed. She has her new phone in her hand and makes a fuss as she tries to close whatever she's been watching, "Why are you coming in without my permission to do so? That's rude."
"Sorry, you took too long," I close the door behind me and walk over to the bed. Midnight is wearing a little short sleeved shirt that looks like it belongs to a five year old, "I need your help."
"Mmm, sure, help with what?" she asks, settling in better. I give myself permission to sit on one side of her and put my stuff down on the bed.
"You like to read, don't you? I think you told us that's all you did around the house with your crazy grandmother," I inquire, trying to sound casual. Mid nods and I stretch the book towards her with a charming smile so she can't refuse, "Please, please, please read this for me and write a little essay. I'll owe you something, I can even give you a foot massage while you do it."
"Okay," she agrees, without much thought and settles down to put her calves on my legs and open the book. I didn't mean the massage thing, but obviously I can't refuse now that she's agreed to help me, so I take one of her feet in my hand and start squishing it all over hoping that's a massage, "Oh, it's about Pythagoras. I know all about him."
"What, really?"
"Sure, I also know all about Aristotle, Socrates, Anaximander, Plato, Hypatia..." Midnight starts mentioning a bunch of names of which I only know three or four and I really don't know much about them. Nor do I want to know, so I decide to ignore her and open my computer to put it on her lap and tell her to write down all those useless facts she is mentioning and focus on the mathematical contribution of Pythagoras.
"This is exciting!" she exclaims as she starts typing, looking happy, "Look how fast my fingers are moving. I've never typed my knowledge down before."
"You can do it all the time if you want. I can give you a small commission if you help me with my homework like this," I say, starting to stroke her feet now. I'm not good with massages but I can give her another kind of reward, "I have a slight... very, very slight attention deficit problem and no matter how hard I try I can't concentrate on something enough to learn it."
"And how is it that you know math if you can't concentrate on anything?" she asks, not looking perturbed at all by what I told her, as if it hadn't been hard for me to accept it for the first time out loud.
"It's different. I like numbers, and the more difficult the mix of them, the better. But when it's so many letters talking about something I'm not interested in it's," I shake my head and make a disgusted sound so she understands me. Midnight just keeps moving het fingers like the keyboard is on fire and doesn't pay much attention to me.
Employing my brain in math is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm good at anything, because it's so complicated and difficult that it requires everything from me and doesn't allow my ADHD to come out. Unfortunately, I've already finished all my classes that required practice and now I'm buried in theory, studying people like Pythagoras who died centuries ago and I couldn't care less about them.
"Can I add some history, or do you want to just..."
"Get to the point. Just write things that have to do with his contributions, "I murmur, starting to move my caresses up her ankle now. I lift up the pajama pants she's wearing and let my fingers travel lightly along the soft skin of her calf, "Midnight, I have something to tell you. There's an account on Twitter called Redboxinggloves and.... well, it started out as an account for information but now they just post gossip and hate towards me. The person who runs it is anonymous, but it's obviously someone who trains at Beast Maker because.... well, they know about you. And they took a couple of pictures of you."
"What?" She asks, looking up from the computer for the first time since she started typing, "How do I look?"
"Very, very good," I assure, remembering her legs and taking the opportunity to pull her pants and my hands even higher, "That's not the problem. That account has almost a million followers from clans all over Europe and some people..."
"Are they saying something bad about me?” She asks, wide-eyed. My voice trembles, but I close my mouth before I tell him the truth. I can't tell her that all the omegas were acting like envious snakes because it would break my heart to see her sad about it. I just shake my head.
"No, no one says anything bad. Sure, you have the jerks who say something about your body and what they'd like to do to it, but most are just impressed that Lion has a daughter. They also talk bad about you being half-wolf, it's a racist thing, I guess. I don't know if Angie told you, but Lion is quite famous in several clans in the UK, but mostly here."
"As long as they don't say bad things about me I guess it's okay," she mumbles, her voice low and starting to type again, "Could you show me the pictures?"
"Sure. I kept them for my own entertainment," I admit, and pull out my cell phone to show her. Midnight smiles sideways as she looks down at herself.
"I don't feel like it's me, I'm not familiar with myself," she says, not taking her eyes off the photo, "It's like I'm looking at someone else and that's why I can admire how pretty I am. I'm almost as pretty as your lover, Gemma."
"You're a thousand times more beautiful than Gemma," I clarify, letting out a snort. And somehow now my fingers are on the inside of Midnight's knee. I stroke that tender part with more enthusiasm and Midnight jumps back, drawing her legs back, "Sorry, I got carried away."
"Don't be sorry," she murmurs, setting the computer aside.
- Writer
