An Alpha's Inheritance

Small Town News Reel

    I burst back onto the main road, not slowing down until I’m in the warm embrace of the street lights in town. I slow to a jog, eventually coming to a full stop to breathe for a second. I bend over, putting my hands on my knees, but I catch my breath faster than I usually do. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing, I guess.

    I resume walking down Main Street, trying to walk slowly, trying to look casual. I should be casual, why wouldn’t I be? I walk past the few buildings that make up “downtown,” getting more and more tense as I walk.  When the fountain is finally in view, I just see the empty square, and my heart falls. I cross the street and walk the rest of the way to the edge of the fountain so I can sit down on it’s dry edge.

    Once I sit, I can finally admit it to myself. I’d been hoping I could catch those other high schoolers I saw here earlier in the night. It’s not that I had any idea how to approach them, or what I’d even say to them if I had found them. I just really wish I knew anyone here before school started. I hate the first day of a new school.

    Every time I have a first day at a new school, I dread the inevitable, “Where are you from?” The truth is complicated. Nowhere? Everywhere? I don’t know. Does anywhere count if you move as much as I have?

    If anyone gets that far, they start asking which place I liked living the best. What was the most fun? And….my favorite places were the ones where mom was least stressed. It was always better to just not get into, but in everyone’s defense, it was an easy conversation starter, I guess. I just wish I could have met those other teenagers so I could really control the narrative.

    This time I’m more nervous than normal. In the last few years, I’d been telling people this was home. It’s not technically a lie, at least that’s how I justified it to myself. My grandfather has been living in that house since before my mom was born. Most of our holidays have been spent here. We’ve just never stayed long enough for me to enroll in school, or even for the woman at the coffee shop to recognize me when I come in for a Christmassy latte.

    Unfortunately, now that we do actually live here, telling my classmates I’m from here will just beg a new series of even more uncomfortable questions.

    I take a deep breath and grip the edge of the fountain, letting the bricks dig into my palms. I try to decide what I’ll say when school starts. At some point, I started making up stories, especially when we got to places where I could tell we weren’t going to stay very long. Sometimes, my father was a spy, and we were in the witness protection program so his enemies couldn’t use us to blow his cover. In the bigger cities, my father became a pilot, jetting around different parts of the world every night. Once even, on one particularly daring lie, we, ourselves, were the spies, and our father was our handler with the FBI. At some point, a teacher begged a conference with my mother to express her concern, and my mother iconically thanked the teacher for letting her know our cover was blown and withdrew me from the school with a secret wink. I’d found out years later that she had already planned our next move, and she thought this was just funnier.

    This time was harder too since grandpa was so well respected here. People would definitely start to wonder about us-- well, about me, if we were seen around grandpa’s house. And everyone had 3 weeks before school even started to speculate wildly.

    I blew my hair out of my eyes in exasperation. No matter what I planned, there was no way for me to get ahead of the small town gossip wagon. I sighed and stood up to walk the rest of the way to the grocery store.

    As soon as I got a few feet away from the fountain, I heard a faint “Hey!” behind me.

    I froze, then turned around, my heart suddenly racing.

    I calmed only slightly when I recognized the blond girl I’d seen here before. Up close, she looked almost fragile. Her pale blond hair framed her face in braids, but her eyes looked hollow. Her enthusiastic smile didn’t match her look of exhaustion.

    “Hi!” I finally answered.

    She walked up, carrying an iced coffee cup, slick with condensation in this dense humidity. “You must be Alfred’s granddaughter! I heard y'all were moving here this year.” She somehow looks more enthusiastic, as she walks up to me, still talking. “I’m Taylor, I think we might be in the same grade! I can’t believe we’ve never met before with you being related to Mr. Alfred and all!” She pauses briefly to take a sip of the iced coffee melting in her hand. “What classes do you like? Are you trying to take APs? Do you want to try any of the sports teams? Do you like coffee?”

    She must have noticed my shocked expression because she suddenly stopped.

    “Oh no, I’m being rude again. I’m so sorry! What’s your name?”

    I smile, trying to relax. “It’s okay!” I reassure her. “I’m Layla. And I do want to take APs, but I’m not sure if I can with the way my transcript looks....I don’t really do sports, and I LOVE coffee!” I silently add ‘with lots of cream and sugar,’ hoping she isn’t the type of person to judge me for it.

    “Excellent,” she exclaims. “Let's go get some.” Taylor quickly finishes the coffee she has and walks past me back towards the cafe on Main. “Well, come on, we need iced coffee in this kind of weather!”

    I follow her and laugh. “I guess I can see why you’re so enthusiastic!”

    She laughs and I relax a little more.

    As we’re walking, something occurs to me. “Hey, how did you know Alfred is my grandfather?” His first name feels weird in my mouth. He’s always just been grandpa.

    “Oh, it was obvious!” She sounds surprised that I don’t already know. “Well first of all, I didn’t already know you. That was my first clue. Secondly, you’re way too unfamiliar. There’s no way someone just passed puberty and I didn’t notice it. But you’re not so unfamiliar that you’re not supposed to be here. Is it rude to say you look just like Mr. Alfred? So then I quickly remembered who’s supposed to be arriving which just leaves 3 options, and you’re way too old to be Gracie, but I would not believe you’re a mother of two for half a second. Which just leaves….you!” She grins proudly.

    My eyebrows must be half-way up my forehead by now. “Oh wow. That small town news reel always manages to surprise me somehow.” I pause for a second before asking this. “Does everyone know we’re moving here?”

    Taylor must sense my discomfort. “Um….like, probably? But everyone’s super excited to meet you. Well like, super excited or super indifferent, but one or the other is good right? No one’s like ‘BOOOOO’ before they even meet you, and everyone already loves Mr. Alfred, so you’ve got nothing at all to worry about.”

    “Oh, wow, you’ve magically alleviated all my worries!” I joke, waving my hands in the air, as if brushing those worries away.

    After a second, Taylor laughs too. “Okay, point taken, but seriously, like, everyone’s too wrapped up in the pa-” she stutters, “in their own thing, and most of them are super friendly anyways!”

    We’ve arrived at the coffee shop. Taylor pulls open the door, and a little bell chimes. The smell of wood and coffee beans and cold air rush out to greet me. I walk inside in front of her.

    “Besides,” she says. “You met me first, so I can introduce you to all the right people.” She winks at me, then rushes up to the counter.