DEDICATED TO Lost_angel28 :)

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Yeah, so since I was a bit late, I updated 2 chapters.

I'm cool like that,

So maybe I deserve a vote, right?

You decide after reading :P

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Chapter 19 - "You Can't Keep Your Candy And Eat It."

Tatum was just pulling out her French textbook for her last class of the day, when Mrs. Dubois walked into the room. Immediately, Tatum knew that something was amiss because the normally emotionless and brusque teacher was now sporting a grim look that tightened her face and displayed the wrinkles on the pale skin around her eyes in stark contrast against her ruby red lipstick.

"Whoa, what do you think is up with her?" Angier leaned close and mumbled in a low tone that only she could hear. Tatum shrugged, wondering exactly just that, "I don't know. But I'm realizing for the first time that she's human."

Angier chuckled, "True."

After that sudden entrance he'd given the previous evening during her conversation with the Mordecai Alphas, Tatum had been pretty worried for a while during their study session over Micajah's desk—which was mostly spent chatting and making fun of each other and helping Ezra come up with prank ideas. She had been looking at him carefully all evening to check for signs that he might've heard her confession, but the carefree light in his eyes didn't seem like one he could fake.

So, Tatum had mostly assuaged herself that it was alright.

He couldn't have heard.

"Bon soir, étudiants." Mrs. Dubois started, silencing the entire room with her quiet, intimidating voice, "Je suis désolé de vous informer . . ."

Basically, the translation of what she'd said had gone something like, "I'm sorry to inform you that our beloved Mr. Bernard, the senior-most French faculty in all of the east, passed this morning in an accident at his own home."

The room had filled with low gasps because Mr. Bernard, the 92-year-old only other French professor of their college was said to be the best man ever. He was perfectly sweet and friendly and taught with such patience that people practically skipped over themselves to get in line to apply for his classes instead of Mrs. Dubois'.

And he didn't skimp much on handing out grades either.

"Dang. Fran had Bernard," Angier whispered.

"Oh," Tatum nodded.

"And since it's such a sudden shock to us, the Uni had no choice but have me take his classes over for the time being as well. So, I request you to control yourselves when the pupils of his class join us here, now." With that, Mrs. Dubois left the room.

Oh. So, that was why they had asked them to go to the bigger classroom that day.

And then Tatum realized what that meant.

Francesca was going to be in the same class as her.

Just freaking great.

As if it was clockwork, Mrs. Dubois came back exactly at that moment, followed by the chattering and footsteps of the new class joining them. Immediately, Tatum spotted the perfect, long blonde hair of Angier's flawless Mate. She smiled when she realized that Francesca had spotted them too and was looking their way, but quickly reigned her smile back in because, on closer look, the girl was not meeting her eyes.

She was firmly looking at her Mate.

Okay, then. If she wanted to be that way, Tatum was cool with that.

Francesca sauntered over to their two-person desk with a look that seemed almost smug—Tatum didn't know what that was about—putting her bag down on Angier's desk with a smile, "You coming?"

"Um," Angier looked confused.

"I mean come and sit with me, babe! I don't know anyone else in this class." Francesca gave him a pouty look, her eyes slightly downcast.

Um, what the hell?

"Babe, but—uh, don't you have friends from Mr. Bernard's class?" Angier asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, but we're a group of three and I don't want to sit alone." Francesca bit her lip, looking at him from under her lashes sadly.

Erm. Tatum wanted to ask just how she managed to sit in her old classroom without being 'left alone'?

Angier looked torn as hell.

Tatum pushed away the sudden pessimistic thought that Francesca was slowly taking away things even as small as some company in class from her, forcing down the disappointment and the unnecessary hurt she felt, because, of course, there was no choice when it came to the two of them.

It would always be the soulmate.

Tatum cleared her throat, dragging two pairs of eyes her way, as she put her textbook back inside her bag, "It's cool. I hated sitting here, anyway. I'll go to the last row,"

"No, Tate. It's alright. I'll go—" Angier started with panic as he looked at her, but Tatum smiled the best playful smile she could manage, giving his shoulder a shove as she stood up, cutting him off, "So you can sit there and use it as an excuse to sleep through this class as well? No, thanks."

"But—"

"See you in the parking lot!" Tatum called cheerfully without turning back to look at the couple as she walked over to the empty seats behind, feeling anything but cheerful.

Fuck, this Mate of his would be the death of her.

~

Once everyone was seated and settled in, Mrs. Dubois said that since both their classes were being taught different chapters at the moment, she would be starting a new chapter for their combined classes and would teach the chapters on hold later. Everyone booed and moaned—because college kids, they booed at everything, but a stern look from the professor had them lapse into silence.

Tatum half-heartedly observed just how much power a person of authority can wield over people.

Mrs. Dubois then proceeded to start an intro for the next chapter, which apparently dealt with the nuances of communication. Sitting so far back in the class with a girl beside her who looked like she didn't give two shits about French, Tatum was almost tempted to zone out and take a nap as well.

At least then, she would be able to mute out all the voices in her head claiming that she would soon lose her best friend completely.

And the silly self-pity that she seemed to be drowning herself in.

Tatum really needed to do something about it.

"Okay, class. Pair up in twos. I've got a small activity for you," Mrs. Dubois said in French, and just like that, Tatum knew that this was all her nightmares come true.

Double fuck.

The class sprung into action immediately, people getting up and going to their various peers' desks and knocking fists and shaking hands as they changed their seats, despite the fact that their professor hadn't even told them to do so.

Tatum turned to the girl on her right with a tentative smile, hoping against hope that she'd be available. But before she could open her mouth, the girl stood up, waving excitedly to someone as she grabbed her backpack and left.

She was gonna be one of those dorks who would end up doing the activity alone, wouldn't she?

She shuddered to consider the possibility.

No. She wouldn't do that.

With new determination steeling her insides, Tatum stood up, letting her eyes roam over each person as she slowly walked down the aisle, checking to see if there was anyone left.

"Where do you think you're going?" Familiar fingers grabbed her by the elbow, and Tatum turned around in surprise. She glanced behind him to find Francesca talking to another jock-ish looking guy, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise and hope, "You're not doing it together?"

"Don't you and I always do group stuff together?"

"Yeah, but—"

"No, buts. You have your answer." Angier shrugged, then let go of her arm to turn back to his Mate, "Fran, I'm doing it with Tatum, 'kay?"

Francesca looked shell-shocked, "What?" She almost screeched, "But—"

"Please. We always do projects together," Angier lowered his tone to a pleading one, and Tatum concluded that she definitely didn't like it.

Francesca breathed in deeply, gesturing to the guy standing beside her, "Then I'm doing it with Martin."

"Sure." Angier grinned, standing up to grab his bag, "You can have my seat, man." He gave the guy a pat on his arm and turned to Tatum, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to the back cheerfully.

Uh, what just happened?

"Ang, wait." Tatum dug her feet into the ground, forcing her happily marching best friend to a stop, "What are you doing? You do realize that you just got yourself thrown in the doghouse?"

"Yeah?" He smirked, leaning close to the side of her head until his hot breath tickled the sensitive skin on her earlobe, "Good thing I don't live with her, then." He whispered conspiratorially.

Tatum stopped herself from visibly shivering at the way goosebumps spread all over her body, looking away and clearing her throat, "Fine. Let's get this over with."

~

In the end, the activity had been a simple dialogue between the two partners—with gestures and body language and a lot more little details like those, to be prepared in the ten minutes they'd been allotted. More than half of the class had also managed to perform as well—including Tatum and Angier.

She was sure they'd be awarded full marks for their performance.

After all, they were both inherently talented actors.

"Meet me by the car in ten minutes," Tatum nodded at Angier grabbed her bag, rushing out of the class the moment the bell rang. They didn't have drama practice that evening because of some personal commitment Mrs. G had to attend to, but whoever wanted was welcome to stay back and use the auditorium.

Tatum had opted not to.

And from the nod he gave, she guessed even Angier hadn't.

As soon as she was far enough away from the class to her satisfaction, Tatum called Seneca—who was on the way to her dorms directly from building C after her last class as well, so they couldn't do it face to face—and told her all about the way Angier had opted to do the project with her.

"Listen," Tatum sighed once she was done, "I don't expect to hear false promises about what this must mean, or for you to give me hope or anything dumb like that, so don't worry. I completely understand how surreal this is for you because, from your point of view, you probably can't even imagine not liking your Mate from the moment you lay eyes on each other. I just—I just needed to tell it all to someone."

"Oh," Seneca seemed at a loss for words.

"Yeah, thanks for listening. And no, I'm not gonna be daydreaming about happily-ever-afters any time soon," Tatum didn't know whether she was saying that out loud to convince her own self or Seneca, "Even Angelina Jolie agrees that they're just stories that haven't finished yet." She added, nodding to herself.

"Uh, Jolie didn't agree. Her character Jane Smith in the movie did. So . . ." Seneca hedged, and Tatum could almost picture her eyes automatically turning to find her Mate to pull him closer, "There is a thing called a happy ending. It just doesn't mean that there will only be rainbows and sunshine from then on. It means you face a cold day together."

"Okay, Mrs. Rye." Tatum rolled her eyes, grinning despite her confusion and despondence, "When are you getting married anyway? Ezra mentioned that you were actually supposed to get married last summer?"

Seneca chuckled, "Yeah, that was our original plan but then college planning and all that came in between and we didn't really think about it much since we're young anyway. Besides, a mark is more permanent than any human document. The reason why I'd wanted to get married was to ward off the human chicks, but looks like engaged is a good enough label that says, 'Stay the fuck away'."

"Ah, okay. Anyways, don't forget to invite us Karases." Tatum grabbed her backpack from the bench she'd been sitting on, "I gotta go."

"You kidding?" Seneca giggled. Yes, freaking giggled, "You'll be my exclusive maid of honor, since Cage and I are sharing Ezra as our best man. So, of course, you'll have to invite yourself. You'll be planning the whole thing, anyway. Ezra knows fuck all about weddings."

Tatum was so befuddled for a moment that she was rendered speechless, and then she almost screamed, "Uh, what? Did you just say maid of honor!?"

"Yeah, crapola. I wasn't planning to ask in such a shitty manner over the phone. You'll get a proper 'asking' again, so, yeah. Forget about my filter-less mouth," Seneca sounded embarrassed, but Tatum didn't give two shits about 'how' she was 'asked'.

All she could hear in her mind was maid of honor.

Oh, Goddess.

"Damn," Tatum breathed, "Seneca, you're really not messing me with me, right?"

"No," She replied, annoyed, "What kind of a sicko jokes about this?"

"Oh, my Goddess!" Tatum finally screeched, "Oh my Goddess! Goddess! Goddess! Ahhhh!"

"Um—"

"I can't believe this—!"

"Uh, Tatum. Calm down—"

"Seriously, Sen. This means so freaking much—!"

"People must be staring—"

"THANK YOU!" Tatum proclaimed giddily, and she could hear Micajah mumbling in the background.

Seneca finally laughed, "It's my absolute pleasure to have you as my maid of honor, Alpha Tatum Karas. So shut up and stop making the people around you weirded out. And Angier is probably sending out a search party for you, by now."

"Oh, dang it!" Tatum slapped a hand to her forehead, still unable to stop grinning like a fool, "I completely forgot about him! I'll go now. 'Bye!"

"Bye."

Tatum hung up and slung her backpack over her shoulder, making her way to the parking lot with a huge grin still etched onto her face. The news had been so unexpected and out of the blue, that it was definitely one of the most pleasant surprises she'd had in all of her life.

It had managed to wipe out all her lingering worries and self-doubts.

Really, she was lucky to have found the Mordecai clan just as Angier had found his Mate. Without their constant support and their inappropriate humor and their huge hearts, Tatum would've probably plummeted to rock bottom.

They always managed to make things better for her.

"Thank you, Goddess." She whispered to herself, hiking her bag higher just as she reached the far end of the parking lot.

What she saw—or more accurately, what she heard there, made her blood run cold.

"Yes, I thought that my Mate would end up being an Alpha! But don't you dare try and pin that on me! I never told you that I was disappointed now, did I?" Francesca's loud voice reeked of defensiveness as the glare on her pretty face deepened, making her look vicious and gnarly and nothing like the sweet girl she seemed to be like.

"Oh yeah? Really, Fran? You're gonna stand there and tell me that you never acted like it? That you've not put off us marking each other solely because of it?" Angier shot back, just as pissed off as he crossed his arms and glared at her.

What in Goddess' name brought up this argument all of a sudden?

"Uh huh, whatever. You can say whatever you want Angier," She let out a sardonic laugh, "But don't tell me you haven't put off the marking because of her either! Admit it! She's always first in your life!"

Tatum's gut seized as she had a sinking realization in her mind.

"I've known her for sixteen years!" Angier threw his hands up in the air, "I'm not saying that she's always first. But she's pretty damn important, alright! Don't sing the same song as yesterday, Francesca! That kiss was onstage! We had no choice!"

"That might've been onstage, Angier. But I wasn't born yesterday. I can bet my head right now, that you enjoyed it." Francesca growled, flashing her elongated fangs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"It's a physical reaction, my Mate. I don't know what you were doing in eighth grade but that's what we call biology." Angier flashed his fangs as well, leaning so close that they were almost nose to nose.

Were they gonna have an explosive make-up, make-out session?

"Or are you sure it wasn't chemistry?" Francesca seethed, clenching her jaw.

Tatum's heart jumped at her accusation, and she quickly darted behind a parked SUV to prevent her from view, in case one of them were to glance up.

Angier breathed deeply, closing his eyes, "What the fuck do you want me to do? It's a play and we kissed. And we will be kissing more. I certainly don't see a way around this."

"Pick a side." Francesca challenged, and Tatum felt her eyes well with moisture. She rapidly blinked to clear the wetness away and keep looking, but suddenly, she was filled with such overwhelming sorrow that she almost couldn't breathe.

No, Francesca. Please don't do this.

"What do you mean?" Angier whispered hoarsely, his face almost cracking in half as the realization seemed to dawn on him.

"It's either me or her. You can't keep your candy and eat it, my Mate."

And at that moment, Tatum couldn't hold it back in anymore. The hollowness in her gut expanded and swallowed her broken heart in its black hole, and the pain that the inevitable conclusion of what was about to happen brought with it was so excruciating that it flashed her back to that fateful night eight years ago.

A heartbroken sob escaped her mouth.

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Question: Does anyone think Francesca is a bitch? Or does anyone think she justified in her argument? Is she good but acting this way because of jealousy? Or is she evil?

THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT THE NEXT SEASON OF YOUR FAV SHOW IS CANCELLED.

UGH! >.<

Lol, never mind me. :) Although, Please do,

VOTE, COMMENT, AND FAN!