Hierarchy and Racism

Oliver Ambroise doesn’t like being a Beta. But it's not like he doesn't mind it either, since it's something he can't change. And he understands there are benefits and crutches to every secondary gender. Yet the thought of being an Alpha or an Omega instead occupies his mind far too often. He remembers the day he presented. It had been a boring, rainy Wednesday afternoon in November during 8th grade. He hadn't been feeling well ever since he woke up. Thinking that the fever would just fade away, he didn't tell his mother. Everybody in the classroom was doing their work quietly, the low buzz of chit-chat somewhat annoying him. The fever made his skin flush and vision hazy. Bile crawled it's way up his throat and onto the table. His lungs constricted, making him desperately gasp for air. His scent had filled up the room, gripping him like a vice. Sage, ginger, chestnuts, fresh rain, old paper. A small hint of almond. Things that have no correspondence whatsoever still managed to mesh together perfectly. Confused and curious murmurs erupt around the classroom, seeking out the owner of this new and unfamiliar scent. Oliver, slowly stands up and stumbles towards his classroom door, trying to appear composed. Despite his current situation he managed to grunt out, almost a plea- " Mr. Howards? Nurse. Please. "