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I turn toward Beatrice, who is leaning against the kitchen island, watching me with interest. “I did. I’ll have to add you up there now, once you and the packs decide who you’re going to go after.”
I look at the board again, studying the faces up there. The illustrations of the packs are clustered together with descriptions beneath each of them. The first says “Big Time Bankers.” The faces there, all grim and clean shaven, aren’t any that I recognized today. There’s only one omega drawn underneath the bankers: another face I don’t recognize. She’s looking straight out at us, her eyes fiery with determination. A boxing glove is lifted near her face as if she’s ready to fight.
“I erased her competition once she beat them out,” Beatrice says. “That way, we have a record of each winner.” She nods along the chalkboard. “Want a quick run through?”
“Sure,” I say.
Randy snickers as he strolls through the room. He’s changed out of his button-down into sweats and a hoodie that only zips halfway up his chest. He smells sweet, almost like raspberries. “You’re gonna have to be less shy if you want to make an impact here, honey,” he says.
“Don’t coach her too much,” says the girl with the apple. “We don’t want her to stick around, do we?”
“Lilah,” a woman with springy curls chastises.
“What? You want her to stick around, Anne? You’re close to nailing down your pack.” Lilah turns to face me. “You keep away from the Farm Boys if you know what’s good for you, honey, ok?”
I open my mouth, ready to say, “Got it,” but I stop myself. Instead, I turn back to the chalkboard and scan it, looking for the portrait of the Farm Boys. I find it, immediately recognizing Pack Four from this afternoon. Portraits of Barbara and Lilah are staring into each other’s eyes beneath the pack. “So you were up against Barbara?” I ask, turning to face her.
“I was,” Lilah nods.
“But she’s gone. Why don’t you just… win?”
“Because Pack Four didn’t say ‘yes’ yet,” Beatrice says with an evil smile. “They’re still giving her the Maybe. And now there’s someone new here… maybe they’ll pick you, girl.”
“You could do worse,” Randy weighs in. “They’re nice guys. Gentle.”
“Gentle? You mean you’ve…?”
“Sampled the goods?” Lilah asks. “Sure, most of us have. How can you know if you’re compatible if you don’t try it out?”
“Plus, the drugs do well for the actual heats, but spikes don’t just go away,” Beatrice adds.
“You guys use heat drugs?” I ask, looking back and forth between them.
Anne clears her throat. “We should probably shut up about that,” she says.
“Ok, walking through the packs!” Beatrice says, pointing at the chalkboard. “We have three packs remaining. Pack Two, Pack Four, and Pack Six.” She points at the images as she goes. “Pack Two is the Marines: Bradley, Canter, and Clara. They’re all ex-military. Very serious, very goal-oriented.”
“Very hot,” Randy adds.
I can see that. The three chiseled faces look out from the chalkboard with intense expressions. Beneath them, a little image of Beatrice squares off with Anne, fists raised.
“Pack Four is the Farm Boys, and Farm Girl. Until today, it was Barbara versus Lilah over there.”
“And now it’s me and no one else, you get it?” Lilah hisses.
“Ignore her,” Beatrice says, flapping her hand dismissively at Lilah. “Pack Six is our Rough Trade pack.”
I glance up at the chalkboard, and study Pack Six. There are three of them, all men. They’re all very tough looking, pierced and tattooed. One of them has a scar running through his eye. Randy’s face appears beneath them, pointing a sharp little dagger at an illustration of Anne, who has her own knife pointed back at him.
“So who appeals to you?” Beatrice asks.
I stare up at the portraits, my heart aching. None of them are right; I can tell from here. It’s not about who they are… it’s about who they aren’t.
Luckily, before I have to answer her question, the door to the suite opens, and Jenn and Derek step inside, each with a clipboard.
“Confessional time,” Jenn says in a sharp voice. “All of you get changed into your confessional outfit.”
“Confessional outfit?” I ask.
