Alpha Dog by Jennifer Ziegler Read Free Book Online Page A

“What I meant was, she’s out like a light. She’s already asleep.”
    Mrs. B narrowed her amber eyes at me in an accusing sort of way.
Can she tell I’m lying? Am I that
obvious?
    Mrs. Krantz gave a birdlike titter into her left hand. “I see. Well then, we won’t keep you. Mrs. B and I just wanted to check on you and say goodbye. We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning and won’t be back until Sunday evening.”
    “Thanks, but don’t worry about us,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”
    “I know you will.” She reached out and patted my wrist where I held fast to the doorknob. “I’m so glad we were able to work things out with your mother.”
    “Me too.” Again, maybe it was just my guilty conscience, but Mrs. B seemed to flash me another death stare.
    “You girls have a good time together!” Mrs. Krantz sang out. “See you when I get back.” She gave a little wave and tottered back toward her condo.
    “Have a good trip!” I shut the door and leaned against it, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Have a good time together? Yeah, right. Christine obviously wasn’t too interested in hanging out with me.
    I switched off the TV set, headed into my room and fired up my laptop to check e-mail. Most of it was boring stuff—the booster club newsletter and a message from Mom reminding me to program Austin emergency numbers into my cell phone. Of course, there was absolutely nothing from Chuck or my friends. No one cared.
    For a long moment I just sat there, fighting the urge to scream or cry or toss the laptop into the street. And then . . . I looked around and smiled.
    At least I was here. Thousands of people who had no idea who the heck Chuck was or that he shoved my ego through a shredder. No fake friends clucking false sympathy to my face and then laughing behind my back. No mom around to tell me what to do every minute of the day. And no one who thought of me as Laura McAllister’s far-less-brilliant daughter.
    It almost seemed too dreamlike. I wouldn’t have even blinked if some megaphone-wielding director stepped out of the wings yelling, “
Cut!
That’s a wrap! You! Go back to your lame reality!”
    The fact was, I was getting a fresh start. And I was going to make the most of it.

3
    S cooby woke me up at nine the next morning. The fricking thing sounded like it was having an electronic panic attack.
“(Click.) BEEEEEEP! Beep! Beep! Beep!
Beep! Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep!”
It blared at close to 147 decibels. I was on the floor practically convulsing in disoriented terror, swiping aimlessly at the clock and hoping to get it to stop. But the big-nosed Scooby face just stared back as if mocking me. Finally I managed to knock the thing into the waste bin where it took on an eerie, tinny echo. I shoved my pillow on top of it to muffle the sound, stuck in my hand and fished around until I eventually hit a switch that shut it off.
    At that point I felt as if I’d just drunk nine cups of coffee, so I decided to go ahead and start my day.
    I headed out into the living room. Rays of sunlight were squeezing around the cheesy fabric blinds that covered the patio doors. Everything was still and quiet. And then I remembered: I really was here—on my own. Away from all things high school and all things Chuck. My heartbeat slowed and a giddy, excited feeling spread through my limbs. The condo suddenly seemed to me the most beautiful spot on earth. I was in love with its grizzled gray carpet and chipped, pea soup green counters. The tacky 1980s furniture looked like priceless heirlooms. Even the clouds of dust swirling in the sunbeams added a magical, sparkly quality—like a live-action fairy movie.
    I took a deep breath of musty air and walked over to open the blinds, hoping to spend some time quietly admiring the view before Christine woke up. I yanked down on the plastic chain and the blinds zipped apart, stirring up tiny eddies of grime.
    “Oh, be a love and shut those bloody things, will you?” came a