Page 1 of Trick or Heat

PROLOGUE

Three Years Ago (Age 18)

“Elsie, there’s a letter for you!”

My mom’s calm voice travels to me, her tone soft and unhurried. Still, my anxiety spikes at her words. I amble out of my room before making my way down to the kitchen. She stands at the stove as she bastes the ribeyes with garlic and thyme, the aroma so mouthwatering that it eases my nerves the tiniest bit.

I see the blue envelope sitting idle on the table and pick it up, my fingertips caressing the soft paper as energy drums in my gut.

“Are you and Casey going to the game tonight?” my mother asks, completely oblivious to the life-altering information that the letter holds.

“Yeah, he should be over soon.” Tonight’s the last baseball game of the season. It’s not soccer or football, but it’s still very enjoyable to watch, and both Casey and I want to show as much school spirit as we can before we graduate in a few weeks.

“Those letters came late this year,” my mother states, her eyes glancing at the letter in my hand. “Normally they come in March or April.”

“You’re telling me,” I mutter, the anxiousness growing. “What if it’s not an acceptance? What if they send the rejections last?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she chastises me. “There could be a load of reasons, no need to go to worst case scenario.”

I sigh. “I’m a worst-case-scenario kind of girl, Mom.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Just as she says that, the doorbell sounds, and she turns back to the pan to take it off the burner. “That must be Case. Keep your door cracked, please. You two aren’t eight anymore.”

I groan. “Mom, he’s another omega.”

“That means nothing to me,” she jokes, cracking a smile.

It does to everyone else, though.

When she sees my face, she tsks at me. “There are plenty of double omega pairs out there, Els.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, because she reminds me all the time. I guess my poker face over designating as an omega doesn’t fool her as much as it does everyone else.

I walk off, the letter still gripped in my hand. When I open the door, Casey is standing there waiting for me, the same blue envelope flashing in his grip.

My eyes widen. “Is that⁠—?”

“You got yours, too?” he asks.

We both pause, cracking nervous smiles. Casey nods at my interrupted question, holding the letter delicately while his other hand runs through his blond hair in a nervous tick.

“I wanted to open it with you,” he confesses.

My heart jumps in my chest, the beat sputtering as my stomach dips with warmth. “You did?”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “I figured if one of us doesn’t get accepted, we should at least find out together.”

That sobers me. These letters are more than just words on a page; they determine how the next four years will go. The curt reminder that one of us might have to spend the next four years without the other churns my stomach.

I’ve never gone a day without seeing Casey since we were eight and accidentally stumbled into each other on the bus. Despite riding the bus for half the school year, we never spoke, never even caught wind of each other. We had different teachers and different friend groups. The only thing we had in common was the neighborhood we lived in.

Then one day, when every student on the bus seemed to have a diorama for the science fair, Casey and I ran smack into one another, our projects completely smashed in the middle. I cried the entire ride to school. He tried to console me, but I was so disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to participate. Sure, I would fail and my mom would be angry, but I was more upset that I wouldn’t be able to present my project alongside everyone else.

But then Casey told the teachers what happened, and instead of instant fails and disappointed looks, our teachers gave us a week to make it up. We had our own little science fair together; me with my project about honey bees and him with his diorama of why dinosaurs were actually huge birds. We both got an A.

We were each other’s cheerleaders, and we haven’t stopped since.

Still, I had no idea that one little mishap would send us down this path, where we saw each other every day and became a constant in each other’s lives. That one awkward moment changed everything for us, and today this tiny piece of paper might put an end to it.