Rejected by the Beta, Claimed by the Alpha

Chapter 148: Orientation

CLARK POV:

After breakfast, things moved fast. Before | could even blink, the group of new students—freshmen like me—

were being ushered into this large theater-style room. It remindedof a mini cinema, except there were no

movie posters, no popcorn smells. Just rows and rows of seats and that clean, sterile smell of freshly waxed

floors and air-conditioned air.

Everyone was buzzing with excitement. A few students were already recording things on their phones, while

others laughed and took selfies in the low, stage-lit ambiance. You could practically taste the nerves mixed with

excitement. This was the first real official thing at Memoville, and everyone wanted to make a good first

impression—even if it was just to blend in.

| took a seat somewhere near the middle and tried to appear calm. Normal. Unbothered. Which would've been

easier if my mind wasn't still replaying everything from last night. Lucas’s face. His fear. His shaking hands. The

way he'd whispered monsters.

And then—bam—he shows up.

Right there, just a few rows in front of me.

| nearly choked on my own spit. My eyes locked onto the back of his head, and then as if he felt my stare, he

turned around—slow, deliberate—and looked straight at me. Our eyes met. | must have looked like a kicked

puppy because his face twitched into something unreadable. Not quite a smirk. Not an apology. Just a tired,

guarded expression, like someone caught in a storm they couldn’t explain to anyone.

He didn't leave.

All that panic, the packing at 5 a.m., the wild eyes, the trembling voice... and now here he was. Sitting like

nothing happened. Like he hadn't terrifiedinto questioning my own sanity last night.

A fresh wave of anger bubbled in my chest. | clenched my fists in my lap and looked away.

I was such an idiot.

Of course, it had been a prank. That was what seniors and weird roommates did, right? Scare the newbie. See

how long it would take to make them cry, pack, or wet the bed. Hazing, psychological edition. Maybe it was some

long-running inside joke: "Whoever makes their freshman roommate break first wins a drink at the senior bar."

If I had actually packed up and left with him—God, the entire dorm would've laughed at me. They'd probably

record it and upload it to ssecret Memoville mpage for a laugh.

"IT’S THE MONSTERS FOR?? #freshiefail"

Ugh. | slumped back in my seat.

The orientation itself started smoothly. A woman in her mid-forties, in a very sharp-looking navy suit with the

Memoville crest embroidered on her blazer pocket, stepped on stage and welcomed us with a confident smile.

"Welcto Memoville," she said, voice crisp and clear, echoing through the hall. "This school is not just an

academic institution. It is a legacy."

Then cthe standard school stuff—history of the university, rules and regulations, how to reach out to

campus security (which I made a mental note of, despite my mood), counseling support, library hours, club sign-

up events, and a ten-minute promotional video with slightly-too-tic background music. The crowd

applauded after everything like we were in saward show, not a university orientation.

| tried to focus. I really did.

But every few minutes, | found myself glancing at Lucas.

Why would he go through all that—only to show up here?

Had | misread it? Was it not a prank? Was it a breakdown? Was he trying to leave and then changed his mind?

Or worse... was it real, and he was just pretending like it wasn't?

No. No. | shook the thoughts away.

I'd spent half the night twisting every weird detail into ssinister theory, letting fear chew on my brain like it

was a midnight snack. The seniors with intense eyes? Probably just tired and on energy drinks. The woman at

the counter who smelled my documents and said "delicious"? Probably joking. Weird sense of humor. Everyone

was a little weird the first week of college.

Besides, no one else seemed scared. Nobody else was whispering about monsters or disappearing in the middle

of the night.

It was just me. And Lucas. And maybe too much anxiety and lack of sleep.

"You okay?" someone besideasked.

| turned, surprised to see a guy | hadn't noticed before. He wore a plain black hoodie and glasses, looked just as

awkward as | felt.

"Yeah," | said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

He nodded. "Yeah. Long night."

| wanted to ask him—did anything weird happen to you? Did your roommate run around screaming about

monsters at dawn?—but | didn’t. Because that would makesound crazy. And the last thing | needed right

now was to be the subject of another prank or becthat guy who spiraled during orientation.

Still, my brain wouldn't shut up.

Maybe it was because the night had felt so off. Maybe it was because of how real Lucas’s fear had looked. You

don’t fake that kind of panic. His eyes, his trembling, the two dots of blood on his shirt—none of it screamed

prank.

But then again, what else could it be? There were no monsters. This wasn’t a horror movie. | was just

overthinking. Classic Clark.

So | sat there, quietly seething and second-guessing everything—until Lucas stood up.

| stiffened.

He walked to the end of the row, bent down slightly, and whispered something to one of the orientation ushers.

She nodded, then pointed toward the side exit.

Lucas left without a glance in my direction.

And just like that, he was gone again.

The rest of the session blurred by. Something about student leadership boards, clubs, and electives. A slideshow.

Soverly enthusiastic upperclassmen trying to hype up campus events with a mic that squeaked too often. |

barely took any of it in.

My thoughts were too busy spiraling again.

Maybe Lucas hadn’t meant to prank me. Maybe something had scared him—but whatever it was, he was alone in

it. Maybe he was going through something personal. Hallucinations? Trauma? PTSD?

| sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. It was hot all of a sudden, despite the AC.

Was this what college was? Constant second-guessing reality while trying to stay chill? Because if so, | was so

underprepared.

By the tthe orientation ended, my back ached, and my brain was full of static. Students shuffled out in

groups—laughing, chatting, making plans. | stayed in my seat for a moment, just letting the noise drift around