Maybe

[mey-bee]

Adverb
1. Perhaps; possibly

Noun
2. A possibility or uncertainty.

Next suggested definition: Idiot

Deer Dear arthur,

will yuo be my boyfrend?

circle YES or NO!

Alfred bit his lip, paper crinkling beneath his hands as he smoothed it onto the flat of his desk. Ms. Hayes had taught them how to fold hot-dog and hamburger style earlier that day! Alfred's favorite was hamburger, of course. He was practically an expert on it. No other alpha could fold paper with a crease right along the blue line.

He surveyed his writing- it was way neater than the alpha's that was sitting next to him. Though Alfred could barely see it, he knew it to be true because he was six! Months older than the other kids in his neighborhood, making him the expert on all things adult. He was practically a grown up already, what with the fact that his mom let him drink soda, he could score two touchdowns against his dad and-

And… if this went right, he'd be the first in his school to have a boyfriend.

Alfred pursed his lips, craning his neck to gaze past the body of the rather large Ms. Hayes blocking his view. It annoyed him to be so far away, but that was how it was in their school. Alphas on one side of the class, omegas on the other, and betas in between. Alfred wouldn't have cared either way- he was fine on his side of the class. No whiny omegas complaining about papercuts, no boring betas- Just him and the other alphas, Alfred was king of the pack. He made sure of it the day he showed up at the school, just like his dad had told him to do.

(Ms. Hayes refused to be in his pack but dad told him the teacher wasn't game. That didn't stop him from trying, though.)

But one omega. The one omega that made the distance matter, Arthur, who seemed so sweet and mild that Alfred had a hard time believing it was the same guy who sassed him on the first day they met. Alfred thought that omegas were the first to submit, and approaching him weeks ago on Arthur's first day at their school, Alfred could see it. A skinny omega in shorts, socks that rolled up to his knees and a warm sweater to keep his pale body from the cold.

Alfred had offered his jacket as a sign of peace. He didn't know why… Arthur just looked cold and Alfred wanted him to be the warmest he could be. Never before had he felt the need to willingly give his things to someone else- he'd slipped out of his warm, fuzzy coat and held it out abashedly, expecting his token of friendship to be accepted. Alfred always got what he wanted.

"I don't want it," Arthur had responded instead.

Alfred was taken aback more than hurt. Omegas were supposed to love warm things! He knew his brother did- and his mother, so why not Arthur? He voiced it, "Aren't you cold? Omegas get cold a lot!"

"I only wear what's mine." Arthur had clarified before stomping off to sit on his side of the classroom. Ms. Hayes had watched with a chuckle, to which Alfred responded with a growl in her direction that seemed to stop her in her tracks.

(She wasn't 'scared' of Alfred like the alpha had thought. In fact, she called his parents later that day, "Your alpha son is adamant on asserting his dominance on every breathing thing in the classroom-")

Alfred swung his legs in his seat, twisting his body excitedly as Ms. Hayes moved to the middle of the classroom to assist the betas in writing their journal sentences. There he was, Arthur, in shorts and a sweater, his dark brows thickened to a concentrated scribble as he dragged his crayon neatly against his paper.

Ms. Hayes glanced over her shoulder and gave him an approving clap, to which Arthur responded with a tiny blush. She loved him, she'd say it every single time they had a parent meet and greet. And even during those, Alfred would try to talk to Arthur, only to find him either fighting some beta or reading his book on the omega playground, a place alphas weren't allowed to be in.

Which is why Alfred was excited for recess today. Even though the playground was divided so alphas had to stay on the mulch and omegas had a carpeted, soft play area, Alfred figured he could send a beta to the omegas' side to deliver his letter. Betas could go around wherever they wanted.

"Alright kids, let's finish this up after recess!"

Alfred was among the alphas who shot out of their seats and scattered to the playground on the first chime of the bell. The betas followed along but only after the omegas, who were equally eager to continue their games of nest and feed the stuffed animals they'd neglected for so long.

Through the window, Alfred could see Arthur trailing behind, lips pulled down in a frown. He wasn't like the others, the grownups at the parties Alfred's mom would host said it was because Arthur's parents were inadikit? Inadequate? That is, for raising someone with a nature meant to be soft and forgiving.

Arthur's dad was an alpha… but so was his mom.

It wouldn't have bothered Alfred save for the fact that his dad had sat him down about it just recently. "Son, you find yourself the perfect omega when the time comes, yeah?"

"Yeah." Alfred had echoed back.

In all honesty, Arthur really was the perfect omega, right? Everyone was so mean to him, and if he could shrug it off like no big deal, that was perfect enough. Alfred supposed that when he was Arthur's boyfriend he'd bite anyone who said anything, and Arthur would smile in his direction.

Yeah, Alfred decided he'd like that very much.

And so he flagged down the first beta he saw and shoved his letter in their hands. "Read it and I'll kill you. Go give it to Arthur."

That seemed to catch a few ears. Alphas stilled their movements and threw their gazes around curiously, to which Alfred dismissed them with a snarl, "What are you lookin' at?"

They went back to playing pretend fight.

The beta dropped a look at the letter before making his way across the playground and nudging Arthur, who sat farther away, playing discontentedly with the green bunny he brought from his house. Arthur had tried to play in the alpha section more than once, but Ms. Hayes had yelled, and as much as Alfred wanted to bite her for it, he instead watched as Arthur would balefully slink back to his fluffy corner. Alfred took note of that while keeping his eyes trained on Arthur. The omega gingerly unfolded the paper and cast a look in his direction.

Then, eyes went back down to the paper and Alfred could see pale cheeks darken. A few omegas had peeked over Arthur's shoulder and began to giggle amongst themselves, to which Alfred turned an equally dark shade of red.

Everyone knew what a boyfriend was. Alfred was the first to want one, but no doubt, others would soon follow his example.

Arthur tiptoed into the classroom, swiped a pencil off his desk and went to town. Alfred watched with furrowed brows as the paper was delivered back to the beta who in turn put it in Alfred's almost trembling hands.

Arthur had written a word in the middle. A neat, MAYBE adorned with a wobbly circle.

And an additional: You spelled "you" and "boyfriend" wrong, but I'm willing to look past that.

Alfred blinked, squinting down at the word that stuck out like a sore thumb, something so foreign he had not one clue what it meant.

M… Maybe?

In fear of looking stupid, Alfred just nodded and smiled. Perhaps "maybe" was something along the lines of "yes, yes, yes!"?

Or it could equally be, "no, no, no!".

Alfred tried not to think about it. Instead, he went back to class in silence after recess was over and ate his snacks with the other alphas, sneaking glances at Arthur, who sat alone. Green eyes would glance back at him almost expectantly before scowling back down into his lunchbox.

Alfred was supposed to do something, wasn't he? He frowned, tongue darting in a gap where a tooth once was, as he always did when he was nervous. Asking Ms. Hayes was out of the question, she'd be nosy about it. Or worse, make him look it up in the dikshionary (dicshunary? God knew how to spell it) himself!

Alfred would go ask his mom when he went home.

Confidence with his plan in mind, Alfred let himself sit through the rest of class in triumphant silence. Giving Ms. Hayes a break from his mischief seemed to be the best way to celebrate.

"Duh- deh… definition of maybe… what's a definition- p- perhaps!? The heck's that mean?"

Dicshonaries (dictionarys? Ugh) really weren't the best option for Alfred. He groaned, squinting down at the tiny print for one last try before throwing his head back and hollering for his mom.

"Arthur!"

"Go away."

Alfred stopped in his tracks, a frown on his face as he turned back to his mother for assistance. She gave him a warm smile and nudged him forward.

"Now Arthur." Arthur's dad scolded, squatting down to his height and brushing his hair back against his scalp, "Don't be mean."

Arthur sniffled, turning back to face Alfred with a tilt of his chin, "Why are you here?"

Alfred cast another look at his mom, who rolled his eyes and pointed to the box Alfred held in his hands. A nod. Alfred turned back to Arthur, "I asked my mom what 'maybe' meant and she said it was an almost-yes, so I got you a present."

Arthur blinked, "Oh… you- you didn't know what 'maybe' meant?"

Alfred nodded sheepishly. After what seemed to be hours of silence, Arthur then folded his arms.

"Well, I'll kill you if it's a teddy bear."

The grownups laughed and that seemed to irritate the little omega further.

"People always give me teddy bears!"

"It's not," Alfred assured, placing the box in Arthur's waiting hands.

Ear pressed against the cardboard, Arthur shook it about, seeming perplexed at the rattle. He let it fall to the ground and followed by dropping to his knees, tearing at the packaging as his parents scolded him from behind.

"Arthur, you're muddying yourself up!"

Alfred slunk behind his mom's legs.

After he'd told his mom about the letter, they had agreed to meet at the park, unknowing to Arthur. Alfred's mom did laugh at him, though, and Alfred, red-faced, had hit her legs relentlessly- to which she responded with a- "Honey, sometimes if you want something, you've gotta reach out and grab it, it won't always be waiting for you!"

As usual, the matter slipped by Alfred's dad intentionally. God knew what he'd say about Alfred "pursuing a relationship of any sort with the neighborhood outcasts".

But the thought of a rowdy boy like Alfred having someone equally challenging as a companion tickled Alfred's mom to the point of arranging a meeting behind the house alpha's back.

A pop. Arthur's parents squinted down at the content of the now open box.

"… woodchips?"

Alfred's mom had been confused by his choice of a gift as well, but Alfred always did get what he wanted.

It seemed to be just the right move too, seeing as Arthur's green eyes shone and a toothy grin spread across his cheeks.

"Arthur has a slide in his house." Alfred explained, toe digging abashedly into the spongey grass, "He can put the mulch around it like we have at school. Ms. Hayes doesn't let him play in it 'cause he's an omega."

"What do we say, Arthur?" Arthur's parents urged, not having to do so. Arthur had already shot up and thrown his arms around an unsuspecting Alfred, who staggered back but nevertheless wrapped his own arms around the other's small frame.

"Thank you, Alfred!"

Alfred giggled as he lifted Arthur off his feet. It was hard to tell if his face was red with embarrassment or by the breathlessness caused by Alfred's hold around his chest, but neither of them cared.

It was only when the grownups collected elsewhere and Alfred was left alone with Arthur did he bring up the first among a set of questions he'd prepared.

"So… uh, what do boyfriends do?"

Arthur shrugged, hands digging into his mulch, "My parents kiss all the time."

Alfred gagged, "Ew! Kissing is for old people!"

"How about a high-five?"

"… or a secret-boyfriend-handshake!"

Alfred discovered that through the grins that followed, Arthur had a tooth missing too.