Alpha Girl (6 page)

Tuesday – 0 days to go

‘Mom, it’s starting,’ I croaked.

‘It’s all right sweetheart. ‘It’ll be over before you know it.’

She held my hair back while I vomited into a bucket, splashing chunks everywhere. 

‘Make it stop,’ I begged in between heaves.

‘I wish I could sweetie.’

Sweat drenched my brow, and my clothes clung to my body. I felt cold, but my temperature was well over one-hundred-and-six degrees. I shook violently as my mother stroked my hair.

‘Stop fucking touching me,’ I snapped at her. She was used to my foul mouth when it came to ‘my time of the month’.

‘Come on sweetie, it’s time to take you downstairs.’

She was right. I couldn’t hold on much longer.

My father carried me into the basement where we had a makeshift room for this specific occasion. The room had been made soundproof, reinforced with steel and a heavy door when I was a child and the sickness began.

‘Mom, I’m cold.’ My teeth chattered as my Dad placed me on the steel-framed bed.

The time was getting closer. I could feel my skin prickling and I knew the worst was about to come.

‘You have to do it now, Mom,’ I wheezed.

‘Let’s get these on you then,’ said my mother, taking my hand. She secured the restraints around my wrists and tightened them so I could not get free. My father secured my ankles.

Soon, I was strapped down to the bed, unable to move in any direction.

‘Wh-what’s the time?’ I asked.

My mother checked her watch. ‘A few minutes before sundown.’

‘It’s starting,’ I said through gritted teeth.

My parents didn’t need telling twice. They left the basement so they didn’t have to witness the worst of my affliction.

Monday – 23 days to go

The following week I eagerly awaited my shift at the café, in the hopes that Mr. Stone would turn up. When it came close to closing time, I always offered to stay back and clean up to Estelle’s delight.

Mr. Stone arrived late, as usual.

‘Am I too late again?’ he asked, stepping through the door.

‘No,’ I shook my head and walked around the counter with a coffee in my hand. ‘I already made you one.’

Mr. Stone raised his eyebrows as he took the cup. ‘You made this for me?’

I shrugged.

‘How’d you know I was coming?’ he asked.

‘I was hoping.’

He scrutinized me for a moment, before smirking. ‘Ah. You made it for yourself, didn’t you? We have the same coffee.’

‘Nope.’ I held up a second cup. ‘This is mine.’

‘Oh.’ Mr. Stone glanced at his cup before looking around. ‘So, are you finished for the night?’

I walked past Mr. Stone and flipped the sign on the door so it read ‘closed’ from the outside. ‘Now I am,’ I said with a smile.

He smiled and shifted a little awkwardly, the cup of coffee held loosely in his hand.

I moved across the café and sat in one of the booths, sipping my drink.

‘Aren’t you going to join me?’ I asked.

Mr. Stone looked out of the café window at the dark street outside. ‘Uh … I thought your shift was over. Aren’t you going to close up?’

‘I can have a coffee if I like,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you join me?’

He stood in the middle of the room for several seconds deciding what to do. He must have decided that coffee with his student wasn’t so bad, because he sat opposite me a moment later.

I held my coffee tightly in my hands and stared at Mr. Stone as he sipped his rather nervously. He sat hunched over with his elbows on the table, his eyes darting outside as though he feared we were being watched.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.

‘Nothing,’ he said a little too quickly. ‘I just … it’s strange sitting in here alone.’

‘With me?’ I asked.

He threw me a glance. ‘Well, some people might get the wrong idea.’

‘It’s only coffee,’ I said.

He exhaled loudly, his shoulders loosening up. ‘You’re right.’

As he drank his coffee I observed what he was wearing today. It was no different to the usual. He wore a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. It was a little too big for him. The shirt underneath had an ugly paisley pattern on it.

I did not hide my gaze as I looked around the table to see his pants, which were a type of brown velvet. He wore the same lace-up boat shoes as usual, this time with no socks.

‘What?’ he said a little embarrassed as I scrutinized his attire.

‘You dress so strange,’ I said, leaning back against the booth and observing him.

He smiled and sipped his coffee. ‘Do I?’

‘Yeah … it’s eccentric. Like a mad professor.’

Mr. Stone chuckled, his emerald eyes twinkling, reflecting the streetlights outside. ‘Don’t you like the way I dress?’

I frowned, considering it for a moment. I liked it very much, indeed. ‘I think it suits you,’ I said.

‘Would you like to know a secret?’ he asked, leaning forwards.

‘I’m not good at keeping secrets,’ I replied.

Mr. Stone raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. ‘I do all my shopping at the thrift-store.’

I feigned a look of shock. ‘Really? I would never have guessed.’

He laughed. ‘All right, no need to get smart.’

Perhaps Mr. Stone is poor
, I thought. After all, he was a little rough around the edges, not to mention his car was about to fall apart. It would be rude to ask though.

‘I promise not to tell a soul,’ I said, tracing an ‘X’ over my heart.

Mr. Stone rolled his eyes and drained the rest of his cup.

‘So, um … sorry that I missed two of your classes last week.’

Mr. Stone placed his empty cup on the table. ‘Did you?’ he asked.

That hurt. ‘You didn’t notice?’

‘I had a conference to go to in the city,’ he said, shifting uncomfortably. ‘I was out of town for a couple of days.’

‘Oh.’

Mr. Stone gave me a strained smile. ‘So have you always lived in Halfway?’

I nodded. ‘Born and raised. What about you?’

‘I was born here, but moved away when I was eighteen to go to college,’ he said, leaning on the table and looking out of the window.

‘Why’d you come back?’ I asked.

‘Do you wish I hadn’t?’ He smirked.

The corner of my mouth twitched as I tried to hide my smile.

‘After I graduated from college I got a job at a high school in the city, where I taught for six years,’ he said. ‘I liked it there.’

‘So why’d you leave?’ 

‘I got sick,’ he said simply, ‘during a visit with my parents here in Halfway. They thought I was going to die.’

This story sounded all too familiar to me.

‘After I got better they asked me to stay in Halfway. I guess they were scared of losing me.’

‘Understandable,’ I said.

‘But I ended up losing them,’ he said stiffly. ‘They both died a month after I returned.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine. They were getting on in age, I suppose.’

Something told me that Mr. Stone did not want to talk about this.

‘But that was five years ago,’ he said.

‘Five years ago?’ I repeated. ‘Did you teach at all during that time?’

Mr. Stone shook his head.

‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘What did you do for five years?’

Mr. Stone shifted uncomfortably. ‘It’s … late.’

‘What? It’s only eight-thirty.’

‘I’ve got a lot of homework to grade,’ he said. ‘What do I owe you for the coffee?’

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I’ve already emptied the till.’

He sighed and slid out of the booth. ‘Next time, then.’

I wasn’t sure why I was so crestfallen at the prospect of him leaving.

Mr. Stone fastened a button on his jacket, seemingly stalling for time. ‘Would you like a ride home?’ he asked.

My heart shot into my throat. ‘But … it’s not raining.’

Mr. Stone buried his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. ‘It’s dangerous at night. You can never be too careful.’

I stood up too and slung my bag over my shoulder. ‘All right, then.’

We exited the shop together, and he watched as I turned out the lights and locked the door. We walked to his car, and to my surprise he opened the passenger door for me.