THE ALPHA'S TEACHER

'S

it didn't feel like home anymore-maybe it never really had. I let out a long breath. My old Peugeot made

t to think about. I tried to push those thoughts away and made mysel

the door, my mother's voic

he daughter of my

n have time to react before my fa

re you are, coming in late in that old Peugeot

voice was flat, tired. I sat down in my usual spot-the one at the end, far from

course, s

in like she was the main event. My stepsister.

h. She had that natural confidence I could never copy. I sat there in my plain skir

over to hug Prisca tightly-

ll of praise. So full it made me feel sick. She'd never

ut the pain still hit me. That quiet

t, as Prisca walked over to him, he gave her a smile I had wished for my whole life. A smile that hurt to see. She ra

say a word abou

eezed my heart. I swallowed hard, pretending I didn't feel the sting

like a knife wrapped in glitter. "What have yo

, not blinking. "Food,"

smile, then turned away

the door-and there he was. Tall, sharp suit, nice smile. Handsome, in a clean

his broken guitar and garage band dreams

a said to the guy, voice full of hon

with that glowing smile, the kind that made

smoothly, sliding into the se

ry glance, every bit of attention clung to Prisca. Her love

cked on me as I reached for the food. "No man wants a girl wh

me. My stomach twisted. Still, I

"She's already bringing someone home. What about you? Who'

ungry anymore. I had been starving before this-liter

They never asked.

ut here I was again, sitting in my usual spot, playing my usual