Alpha Girl Read Online Free PDF

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.
    It took several attempts for the car to start, with Mr. Stone muttering apologies under his breath as he turned the key in the ignition.
    ‘Did you get this at the thrift-store, too?’ I asked, trying not to smile.
    He ignored my jibe, and exhaled with relief as the car roared to life.
    ‘Yes, good girl,’ he said, patting the dashboard.
    We pulled away from the coffee shop and drove along the darkened streets. I didn’t say anything for most of the way. Mr. Stone had the radio turned right down so the classical music was almost indistinguishable, but still he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed to himself. It was as if he was from another time. I’d never met anyone like him. Classical music, old clothing, and a beat-up car; something told me that Mr. Stone was not like other men.
    Being so close to him, I could smell his cologne. I inhaled deeply, the scent calming me.
    ‘What is that cologne you’re wearing?’ I asked, suddenly.
    Mr. Stone’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. ‘I’m not wearing any cologne,’ he said. ‘Why? Do I smell bad?’
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘You smell good.’
    ‘Really?’
    I nodded.
    I watched as he drove past my turn-off, and didn’t say anything. He took the long route to my house, through the