Scum (Book 1)

2. Weird

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*One Year Later*

Cheyenne’s POV

Today is my sixteenth birthday, and as soon as I got home from school, my family surprised me with a laptop.

I break into tears because I know we can’t afford it, but I really need it. Wi-Fi is free all over the pack grounds and going to my school library to study is not always possible, so having my own device is really a game changer.

“Don’t you like it?” My mother asks, put off by my tears. I rarely cry, but right now, I’m conflicted. If I accept this my parents may feel like they have to get me something better next year, but I don’t want to reject it.

“I love it… it’s just-”

“Cheyenne,” Dallas says, knowing that I was about to say something ‘silly.’ “Didn’t you promise to become a nurse so that we could live comfortably? This is an investment into our future.”

My brother is working on his rank, so if I can meet him halfway and get through the nursing program, our mother can retire and become a full time caregiver for our father. That will also help Dallas, who may find a mate in between and start having pups.

They can stay with mom while he works, and since I will be the third wheel, I can just move into one of the shared housing structures until I find a mate of my own.

“Thank you,” I reply, hugging everyone tightly. I check my phone, and it’s almost time for me to get to work, so I dart out of the house and head straight to the kitchen.

After a few playful jabs from the head cook on duty today, I take my station, and begin stuffing and seasoning the chicken breasts. We have an assembly line going, so after I’m done, someone else takes the meat and seals the open end with toothpicks.

Stuffed chicken breast is my specialty, but then again, there is nothing I’m bad at cooking. My mother also works in the kitchen, but she’s off today, and I know it's because she wanted to make sure I had a home cooked birthday dinner to come back to; preferably one I didn’t prepare myself.

Done, I move on to the biscuits, which is my secret recipe that I will not share with anyone. Not even my mother knows what I put in them, and I plan to keep it that way. I’ve made a little side money making small batches for people who can’t wait for the next time they are on the menu or I’m in the kitchen.

There are other things that people have bought from me, desserts that aren’t a special recipe, but for some reason, they like when I make them.

“Cheyenne, we just got word that Alpha Liam has no finals. He’s coming home tonight.”

“Dessert?” I question, understanding that they wouldn’t have mentioned it to me unless they needed something.

“The luna specifically requested for your cookies.”

“Did she say which one?” I ask, setting my biscuit dough to the side.

“Sorry Hun, I didn’t ask.” I wouldn’t want to disturb the luna right now, she’s been unusually busy lately, and my mother says that it's because she wants everything to be perfect for Liam's takeover.

“No need. My biscuits need to rest anyway. I’ll make about one hundred of each. Is that okay?”

“You’re the best; I’ll have some of the girls get out the ingredients for you.”

The cookies I’m making are peanut butter, chocolate chip, and peanut butter cup, which are all basic. Like I said, there is no special recipe to follow, so it doesn’t take me long to get the cookie dough made and set in the fridge to chill.

In the meantime, I go back to my biscuits, rolling and cutting them out as people take the trays and pop them into the oven. I typically time them by eye, so every now and then, I inspect how they are doing, instructing my co-workers when to remove them as needed.

I’m extremely good at multitasking, so as the biscuits come out, I brush the tops with my secret melt, and send them to the cooling rack. By the time I’m done, my cookie dough is chilled enough to work with, and we get to work on getting them lined out on the baking sheet and put into the oven.

We finish up with them just in time for dinner service to start, and we all high five one another, sighing in relief that despite the additional request, we got the job done.

“You’re just like your mother,” the head cook says, rubbing my shoulders with a smile. I would not have been able to pull this off without you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mock. “Flattering words aren’t going to convince me to move to kitchen duty exclusively.” The woman curses under her breath, making me laugh.

“What do you get out of security work? Food is art you can eat.”

“Yes, but patrols pay more,” I honestly add, making the woman swat at me.

“I really wish I knew who you inherited that smart mouth from,” she teases, and I wave goodbye, telling her that it’s my birthday, and I want to spend some time with my family. The woman looks saddened by my statement, but before she can say anything, I leave the kitchen.

When I got home, my mother looked downcast, and I could already guess why. Liam is returning, and we have likely been called to greet him.

“How much time do we have?” I ask, already stripping out of my food-stained clothing.

“About five minutes, are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I will have many more birthdays to celebrate with you. This is just one of them.” My mother smiles then dashes toward her bedroom, likely going to get my father.

I change into something clean, and we meet in front of the house. I notice my father is holding a cake box, and I raise a brow at it.

“There’s no reason we can’t sing happy birthday in the cafeteria,” he says, and I kiss his cheek lovingly. My father is really the most gracious and optimistic man in the world, and if my mate is even half the man he is, I will want for nothing.

“Shall we have a little fun?” I ask, making sure that my father is properly secured, and the foot rest is up.

“Cheyenne,” my mother warns, already knowing what I’m going to do.

My father is a werewolf who can no longer shift but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the desire to run. His wolf has gone mostly dormant, and I can tell that it depresses my father, although he won’t ever say anything.

I run as fast as I can, watching my father close his eyes and tilt his head back, relishing in the sensation of the wind brushing against his skin. He partially shifts, which is about as much as he can muster, but it doesn’t last long.

“She’s gaining on us,” I say, and my father and I start laughing, which only makes my mother more upset.

“Cheyenne Genevieve Lively, you stop this nonsense right now!”

“You’re in trouble young lady,” my father sings, also taking note of my middle name being used.

“You think she will catch us before we make it?” I ask mischievously.

“Dare to find out?”

“Challenge accepted,” I reply, running even faster.

Liam’s POV

It was completely unexpected, but neither of us had finals to take, which gave us an excuse to go home. It's just a few days, but the six-hour drive isn’t bad, especially now that I have my own car.

“I’m hungry,” Royce says, whining for the one-hundredth time about his stomach. “Are we there yet?”

“One, I know, two, you asked me that like ten minutes ago and three… Kelvin, you tell him.”

“Just stop complaining,” My gamma says, clutching at his own abdomen in hunger. We aren’t particularly good with money management, and we didn’t anticipate how much getting drunk could cost. What we have left is money we cannot dip into; just in case we have an emergency while we’re away.

“I just hope we get there before dinner. My mother told me it's chicken and biscuits.” Stomach rumbling travels through the car and I find myself speeding.

I’ve missed pack food, but I’ve especially missed those stupid biscuits. They are addictive, and just thinking about them makes my mouth water.

“Are you still messing with the same girl?” Royce randomly asks, and I nod, surprising him.

I met Porsha at a meeting meant for future pack leaders. It’s held on human territory to prevent issues, and it’s meant for people who may not know one another to mingle in the hopes of creating new and stronger alliances.

It’s mostly men, but there are a few female alphas, gammas, and betas, and I just so happen to get the number of and start dating one of them. She, like me, hasn’t found her mate, and while she isn’t mine, I really like her.

“What makes you bring that up?”

“I’m just curious about how you’re going to reject the women who will be throwing themselves at you this week.”

I forgot about that, or rather, I just didn’t think about it. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been eager to jump into bed with Shelby, a particularly fun girl from my pack, and that’s shocking.

“We will see when I get there.”

I kid you not, as soon as I put the car in park, we jump out, making a mad dash toward the kitchen, laughing as we realize how stupid we must look to people who don’t know that we haven’t eaten since yesterday.

My gamma slows in his pace, and thinking he may be about to pass out, Royce and I stop to check on him, but it's then that we notice that Chey was pushing her father’s wheelchair toward the cafeteria, and their laughter can be loudly heard while her mother chases them, screaming for them to stop.

“You okay?” Royce asks, unable to read the atmosphere.

“I’m fine, I’m just starving,'' the man says, continuing to walk with his hands on his hips. I know that isn’t it. Anytime he sees Mr. Lively, my gamma freezes up, guilt ridden because the man’s misfortune elevated his family, not a respectable challenge.

“Then let’s eat!” Royce pushes Kelvin, and he chuckles, breaking into a sprint that we accept as a challenge.

We enter the cafeteria and are immediately surprised when my mother makes everyone shout ‘welcome home’ to us, and it has successfully made the moment weird.