Chapter Text
Heather Chandler fought not to fidget as she waited for the mail to be brought in. She'd been like this for the past few days, now, but it would be worth it. She was finally (hopefully) getting her status diagnosis.
Her scent had begun changing a little over two weeks ago. She, of course, noticed, but as she wasn't fully presenting yet, she couldn't get a read on it herself. During one of her parents' rare visits home, they noticed she was beginning to present and her mother immediately decided she needed to go to the clinic. Heather didn't argue. Not only would it upset her father—something she had learned was never good—but she also wanted a confirmation on it. Her mother was a beta and her father came from a long line of alphas, so it was only natural she would be one or the other. But being an alpha would at least get her father to pay more attention to her so he could properly teach her how to behave as one of society's leaders.
A car pulled up the driveway and Heather glanced over. She smiled and waved to Heather McNamara and Heather Duke. They'd been friends since they were all six years old. At this point, the three of them had promised to remain a pack no matter what came their way. They both started presenting a few months ago. Alphas, naturally. Ever since her appointment, they'd been coming over every day to wait for the mail with her. It was nice knowing she would have someone with her when the results came in. If she ended up being a beta, she would need their help figuring out how to break the news to her father when next he came home.
"Hey, Heather!" Mac called, blonde curls bouncing as she ran closer. Duke was a little slower, sending Heather a lazy wave and a smile. Mac jumped up the stairs to sit next to her and asked excitedly, "Has the mail come?"
"Not yet," Heather told her. "But it feels like today's the day."
Duke rolled her eyes with a good-natured grin. She settled on Heather's other side and said mockingly, "You say that every day. How is today going to be any different?"
"Shut up, Heather," Heather huffed, though the effect was lessened by the grin on her lips as she bumped Duke's shoulder. "I know it's going to be the day. I just have this feeling."
"Well, we're about to get our answer!" Mac exclaimed, pointing to where Heather's nanny was bringing up the mail.
All three hopped up excitedly and Heather rushed forward. "Has my letter come yet, Sarah?" she asked.
Sarah smiled. She'd been asked the question for nearly a week, so she was used to this by now. Looking through the letters, her eyes widened a bit when she found the one she was looking for. "You're in luck," she chuckled, handing the letter down to Heather.
"Hah!" Heather cheered, taking it triumphantly and waving it in the air. "I told you, Heather!"
"Open it! Open it! Open it!" Mac urged her.
"Alright! Alright!" Heather tore into the envelope, too excited to ask Sarah for the letter opener. Inside was a single piece of paper and Heather slid it out. All three took a deep breath to calm themselves before Heather unfolded the letter and looked for the result.
Her hands shook.
Mac's baby blue eyes widened in horror and she stared at her friend, slack-jawed. Duke took a step back, going pale as she realized what this meant for her best friend. Both of them stayed quiet as they waited for Heather to react to the news. Sarah paused in the doorway when she noticed they'd gone quiet. She took one look at her charge's best friends before hurrying back over.
"Heather?" she called hesitantly, wary of what might happen. "Heather, honey, what's wrong?"
Heather slowly lifted her head. Tears shone in slitted silver eyes as her face twisted into an enraged snarl. Her cheeks flushed with emotion and her red curls stuck to her forehead, indicating she’d broken into a sweat. Those were two signs Sarah had learned were never good reactions for her. Heather's hands shook more noticeably around the letter now. This was not at all good.
Sarah cautiously reached over and took the paper from Heather. The other two Heathers moved to flank their best friend, both of them wrapping an arm around her waist as they watched Sarah. Sarah took a fortifying breath before looking down at the paper.
Oh, shit.
There, on the page, clear as can be, was a large letter O.
Heather Chandler was an Omega.
~~~
The house was quiet as the three preteens occupied one of the couches. A Heather sulking against either arm and one curled into a ball in the center. Sarah had brought them some tea, but it sat untouched on the coffee table. None of them were really in the mood for food or drink, not when faced with this terrible wrench thrown into their lives.
Heather could barely even show her face to her two closest friends. It didn't bother either of her friends all that much. Their parents had raised them to be respectful to both betas and omegas, understanding that status didn't necessarily write someone's entire life for them. They would even begin taking the Alpha classes in school to learn how to treat omegas during heat and to soothe betas during rut. Neither of them really minded all that much that Heather was an omega; she was still their best friend.
The problem was Heather's father. He had a very traditional view on things. Alphas were in charge, the most powerful, the most skilled, the most dangerous and respected. Everyone not an alpha was to bow to them in borderline servitude. Betas, while not necessarily useless, weren't considered as highly. They were powerful, but could never match the might of an alpha. They are capable of moving up the socioeconomic ladder, but weren't likely to go very far. And omegas... He considered omegas the lowest of the low. There to serve and nothing else. They needed to keep their eyes low and their voices soft, speak when spoken to and do as they're told. If he found out his only child was an omega, there was no telling what his reaction would be, but it would be anything opposite of 'good'.
Sarah could only lean against the doorway and watch the three of them sympathetically. As a beta, she knew all too well how Mr. Chandler tended to be about status. She was not looking forward to the tantrum he would no doubt have when he found out. The man tended to be a boor when he was in a neutral mood, there was no telling how he'd be in this scenario.
They were all pulled from their thoughts by a car horn. It was Mac's mom coming to pick them up. Duke and Mac glanced at each other before they looked at their friend, who hadn't moved in the better part of an hour.
"Sarah?" Mac called, turning worried blue eyes on the nanny. "Can you go tell my mom we'll only be a minute. We... we don't wanna leave Heather alone just yet."
"Of course, Miss McNamara," Sarah said, bowing slightly before heading out to do exactly that.
When she was out of earshot, Mac threw herself at Heather. "I'm so sorry," she whispered quietly.
Duke scooted closer, placing a hand on Heather's shoulder. "Do you... I mean, if you don't want us around tomorrow, that's cool. We, um, you know, understand if you need space or whatever."
There was silence for a moment before Heather shook her head. "No," she mumbled, muffled by her legs. "I don't... I want you two here tomorrow, too." She finally lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "But... I'm just... not okay with anyone outside of the four of us knowing, okay?"
"Yeah, no problem!" Mac told her reassuringly. "It'll be our little secret, right? For as long as you need it to be."
Heather gave a mirthless chuckle. "Probably until I graduate freaking high school with how my dad is."
Duke shrugged. "Then we'll just keep it a secret until we all graduate. That's only, what, six years away? It'll be easy."
Heather looked between her friends and mustered a small smile. "You two are the best friends anyone could ask for."
They beamed at her encouragingly. A throat cleared at the door and Sarah made her way in. She sent the girls a smile and said, "Your mother is waiting for you and Miss Duke, Miss McNamara."
"Thanks, Sarah!" Mac chirped. She gave Heather one last hug before hopping off the couch. Duke leaned over and gave Heather a loose hug, too. She slid off the couch and followed after Mac, casting a concerned glance back at Heather as she went.
Sarah escorted them out with a wave. When she returned, Heather looked to be in slightly better condition. Her eyes were still puffy, and she needed a tissue or two, but she didn't seem as devastated as before. Sarah took a seat next to her charge and sighed.
"I really am sorry, Heather," she whispered.
"It's just... going to suck when Dad finds out," Heather mumbled, hugging her knees tighter. "He's gonna go on and on about how I'm a failure to the line and don't deserve the family name and... it's just gonna really suck."
Sarah nodded. "Would you like me to sneak you some treats to cheer you up? Even if it only makes you feel a smidge better, it will still be better than feeling like an abandoned puppy after your father is through with you."
Heather leaned against her with a smile. "You're the best, Sarah."
A laugh was her only response.
Heather didn't like that she was an omega. She knew things would be really hard for her once she started presenting. But she had Sarah, and she had Heather and Heather. She could take on anything with them by her side. Even if 'anything' also meant 'her stupidface traditional jerkwad of a father'.