Not Just an Omega

"Welcome to my life."

Chapter 1

   Do you want to build a snowman?

   Because I sure don't.

   I hate winter. All the snow falling, covering everything, it's so cold! I've already gone through two large tins of hot chocolate mix, at least three dozen candy canes, and I can't go anywhere on the account that Jack Frost has decided to temporarily stay in my town and do all his stupid snow magic everywhere. It's only the beginning of January.

   I sit in my bedroom that I'm lucky enough to have a small bay window. My reflection of fair skin, silver hair, and blue eyes stare back at me, blurred. I don't exactly know why my hair is silver, I never dyed it. Everyone says that's how it was when they found me. Which is really weird.

   My window has a nice view of the town that's in hibernation mode under all the snow and ice. A town that isn't huge, but it isn't small. The lady I stay with is Mrs. LeAnne Sawyer. She's sixty-five with coco brown skin and warm, gentle chestnut eyes.

   She's not my real mother—I don't actually know my real mom. Or my Dad for that matter. I just... showed up on Mrs. Sawyer's doorstep. She tells me I was around... eight or so when I showed up? I was lost, cold, starving, and didn't have a lot of warm clothes on considering it was winter. Just threadbare rags and dozens of scratches and bruises.

   I couldn't remember what I was doing here, where I was, and where—or even who—my parents were. Considering our town wasn't a tourist attraction spot, she figured I lived here or close by. She'd told the local authorities, put up posters, but no one claimed I was their lost daughter. I didn't understand it at the time, but I thought Mrs. Sawyer was nice, so I didn't really oppose to her taking me in.

   Since I was obviously too young to care for myself, Mrs. Sawyer became my foster mom. I've asked why she doesn't just adopt me, but she hasn't given me a valid reason besides "It's not right." To heck what that means. I secretly wish that she would just adopt me, but at the same time, it feels freeing not to be held to someone.

   I'm technically old enough to move out, having already went to our town's community college and graduate. But I don't have enough money by myself. And I don't want to mooch off Mrs. Sawyer because she's already given me so much. So instead I stay and help her in any way I can, while also paying for the groceries as my rent. That's the least I can do for her while she's away at work.

   She has a desk job at the post office. Her husband died a few years before I showed up, and left a good sum of money in his will to her. So she can afford to house me,but I have a job regardless—Wait...Oh crap! I was supposed to be at my shift two hours ago!

   I jump off the window and bolt down the stairs. Grabbing my winter jacket and helmet, I yell to Mrs. Sawyer that I'm leaving, and rush out the door. My job is a five minute walk from the house, but riding my bike gets me there in two. I work as a waitress at the diner from evening hours at seven until closing, which is at eleven or something every weekday.

   "Miss Kaila. You're late. Again," my coworker deadpans as I fly through the kitchen doors. I stop dead, catching my breath. Dang, I had hoped that she wouldn't see me yet. I swear, she has eyes like a hawk. Her steel gray eyes looks really mad at me. "I had to cover your section and mine for two hours. And that kinda really sucks!"

   "With good reason, Reily," I say, slipping my time card in and tying off my apron.

   "And what reason is that, Kaila? Why were you two hours late?" She quirks an eyebrow at me as I pull my hair into a ponytail. I stare at her, willing myself not to break into a smile.