Chapter 303

I changed my clothes three times before settling on the jeans and sage green top I had on first. The only jewelry I wore was the moonstone pendant and my engagement ring.

It was my first day of classes at Frampton U, and I was excited and nervous.

The only thing that would make this day better was if Amy was going with me. Yet, she seemed happy enough to attend school with Justin at the city college.

My hands shook as I gathered my things and went down to the garage to get into my car.

My first class was in two hours, but I had to go to the campus bookstore for textbooks, and I wanted to explore a little.

That wouldn’t be a problem since the campus was a fifteen-minute drive if I took the highway. So I had plenty of time.

It felt like the kind of day I should savor. The memories of attending such a prestigious school would stay with me for life.

The drive was pleasant. I took my time, enjoying the sun on my face that shone from a bright blue sky, and the air was still warm and soft. It was a good omen.

My hopes were high for a good college experience. I daydreamed a little as I drove up the highway.

I envisioned myself sitting under a tree in the quad, surrounded by new friends while discussing current campus events and world news.

We would share our opinions on how to make the world a better place and the leaders who could make it happen.

Maybe I would join in on protests against injustices and oppression. Adding my voice to those of like-minded individuals could make a difference.

My excitement swelled as I parked my car in the student lot. I watched other students flow past my car for a few moments while gathering my courage before joining them as they headed toward the quad.

A few of the other students looked at me with curiosity. I smiled and mumbled hello to each of them. Most responded in a friendly manner, but some kept going as if I wasn’t there.

I stayed positive and found the campus bookstore without any problems.

“Hi,” the tall, sturdy-looking girl standing behind a cash register said. Her name tag told me her name was Cara.

Even though Cara’s looks were plain, she had a nice smile, and kindness shone from her gray/blue eyes.

“Hi,” I replied and approached her with my list of required textbooks. “I need these textbooks and was told you should have them here.”

She scanned my list. “We have them. Do you want new or used copies?”

“What’s the difference?” I asked.

“New is a lot more expensive,” Cara replied. “But Alphas don’t buy used books, and they rarely sell them back to us.”

Recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Daisy Wilson, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Have we met before?” I didn’t remember Cara, but maybe it was when we were young.

“No,” she replied. “I saw you on TV when you spoke about the progressive dinner and how your Beta friend was treated. I thought it was great.”

“Thanks.” I grinned, now sure I would find many like-minded people here at Frampton U.

Cara came out from behind the counter. “Let’s find your books.”

With Cara’s help, I soon had an armful of textbooks I was loading inside my new backpack that she also recommended.

“Thanks for your help,” I said. “I hope I see you around.”

“You will,” Cara assured me. “I work in the cafeteria too.”

“Great,” I said, wondering when she had time to study. “Maybe we could get a cup of coffee sometime.”

“Um, sure.” Cara gave me a puzzled look. “Good luck on your first day.”

I flashed her a smile. “Thanks. See ya.”

My next stop was my first class on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays: The History of Journalism.

I made it to the classroom on time and found a seat in the middle of the room at the end of a row.

As I was getting my textbook and tablet out of my backpack, the professor began the class. He introduced himself as Dr. Luke Malory.

Professor Malory told us he had been a reporter for The Denhurst Chronicle for ten years before he began teaching.

I felt lucky to have such an experienced journalist teaching the class. But I soon discovered that some of his beliefs would make me cringe.

“Somebody, give me an example of a past story that you think was good journalism,” he said.

He called on the raised hand of a boy with thick glasses and curly brown hair.

“The Stauche Vierra piece on the Morton Scandal,” the boy answered.

“Wrong,” Professor Malory said. “Vierra was a hack who played up honest errors made on Beta property assessments. Sam Morton was a trusted tax collector for twenty years.”

Professor Malory glared at the class. “Next?”

“The trial of Jim Gains,” a girl called out.

The professor nodded. “Very good. That was a fascinating case, covered well by most of the media. It showed the dangers of Betas when they are given any power.”

There were a few gasps at his words.

The boy who spoke up first was red with anger. “There has been proof since his execution that Jim Gains was framed,” he argued.

Professor Malory rolled his eyes. “I can tell you will do poorly in this class. And raise your hand before speaking such nonsense again.”

The rest of the class was more of the same. The material and how it was presented was severely skewed in favor of Alphas.

It was a relief when the class was over. It was almost lunchtime, so I walked to the cafeteria.

The food looked and smelled good. I grabbed a burger and an iced tea before looking for a place to sit.

It was a pleasant surprise to be invited to join a group at a large table.

I sat down and introduced myself. The others told me their names were Iris, Mia, Kalie, and two were Mikayla.

“We know who you are,” one of the Mikaylas said. “Everyone was talking about you last semester when you were here on a tour.”

Iris eyed me warily. “You didn’t seem to like Professor Mallory’s class.”

I shrugged. “He is too Alpha-centric. I agreed with the boy who argued with him. Jim Gains was framed.”

“I wouldn’t keep saying things like that,” Kalie said. “Things won’t go well for your type here.”

“I know this school’s student body is over ninety-nine percent Alphas,” I argued. “But it doesn’t change the facts and the truth.”

I spotted Cara bussing tables and waved.

She pushed her cart closer. “Hey, Daisy. Are you finding your way around okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Thanks for your help this morning. How about coffee tomorrow?”

“I can meet you at the campus coffee shop at nine if that works for you,” Cara replied.

“That’s great,” I said. “See you then.”

When I turned back to the table, everyone but the two Mikaylas were leaving. They said nothing to any of us and walked out the door.

“What was up with that?” I asked.

“You shouldn’t talk about Betas and Omegas on campus,” the blonde Mikayla said.

“Why not?” I asked. How could the college control what I said outside of class?

The second Mikayla leaned across the table and whispered, “Students have been suspended or even expelled for talking about equality for Betas and Omegas.”

“They’ll kick me out of school?” I asked. It was unbelievable that an institution like Frampton U would hinder free speech in such a way.

“Yes,” Mikayla one said. “Hopefully, nobody will say anything because you’re new.”

“You shouldn’t talk to the girl bussing tables either,” Mikayla two said.

“Why, because she works two jobs?” I asked. “Is it because her family isn’t as wealthy as the rest of us? I think she’s got a lot of ambition. But I don’t know how the poor girl finds any time to study.”

“Daisy, Cara doesn’t go to school here,” Mikayla two whispered. “She’s a Beta.”

The cafeteria went quiet when announcements began coming over the PA system. I gasped when I heard my name.

“Daisy Wilson, please report immediately to the University Provost’s office in the Morefield Building,” the voice on the PA said.

“I knew you’d get in trouble,” Mikayla two said.

Mikayla one nodded. “Someone must have reported her.”

“This is insane,” I declared. “What did I do wrong?”

“You’ll find out,” Mikayla one said before both girls got up from the table and walked away.