The Next Alpha

Part 1

*Taylor Morrison*

~Taylor's POV~

My name is Taylor. Taylor Anne-Marie Morrison to be exact. I'm 17, I just moved here to Cora Peake, North Carolina to live with my mom and sister. I have to help my mom with everything. I don't mind because she needs it. My dad left us when I was two. She has worked at least two jobs my whole life to try and provide a stable home for us. She is the strongest woman I know.

I've been unpacking for hours. It's a big move, coming from Tyler Texas to the land of Nowhere Ville. I started to rip the shiny grey duct tape from the top of the box, to pull out some of my belongings, whenever my mom called for me.

"TAYLOR!" She shouts from downstairs. She sounded like a raspy Scarlett Johansson. A smooth and sultry voice. I giggled and stood up, shutting my bedroom door behind me, and skipping down the stairs. The entire upstairs is my bedroom. There's one set of stairs in the corner of the hallway that leads up to my room. It's really cool. My bedroom floor was the rest of the houses ceiling. I wanted my room to represent me as a person. My mom and I went out one day to pick out colors to pint my walls. I had settled on a light pink shade. I called it peach, but my mom calls it salmon, and the guy at Home Depot called it #32615. I hopped down the stairs and went straight into the kitchen, giving my mother a hug from behind. My mom has a belly. But not a huge one, just right to where my arms don't connect but almost do. She was a great pillow,

"Whad up Mamma?" I say while still have my arms wrapped around her.

"Have you gone to check out your school and gotten registered for all of your classes?" She asks pulling away from my affection and turning to raise a questioning eyebrow. She was holding a wooden mixing spoon threateningly.

"Uh, not yet. No." I drop my arms and walk over to the stove. I grasped the wooden spoon from her and began to stir the unknown contents of the six-inch-tall pan. I smelt it and scrunched my nose from the awful smell. It smelled sort of like, rotten eggs and orange juice. I wasn't sure if that was a thing, but I really hope it isn't.

"Taylor, you know you shouldn't put things off like that." She scolds me. Getting ready to give her motherly lecture on being responsible. I've heard it more than once.

"I know, I know. I was planning on going tomorrow, probably in the afternoon, since classes start the day after." I tell her picking up an apple and tossing it up once and catching it with the same hand and took a bite. I decided I wasn't all that hungry after smelling what was in the pot. An apple was light and filling, so I chose that for dinner. I jog back up the stairs to my room with my apple in tow. On my way back I caught a glimpse of Carly's room. I noticed she wasn't there. She happened to be my little sister and turns out my sister isn't home. See, she is my half-sister, we have different dads. So, she's lived here her entire life. While me? I lived with my dad and Brother. My brother was 21 about to turn 22, and we were really close. We always did stuff together until I moved here. He took me camping for the first time when I was 11. Camping with him was always so carefree and relaxing. That's the kind of person he is. Everyone around him feels carefree and relaxed. I get pulled out of my thoughts by my phone ringing. Great, an unknown number. Wonderful.

"Hello?" I ask waiting for a voice to rise upon the other line.

"Taylor Morrison?" The mysterious voice asked.

"Yeah, who is this?" I ask knitting my eyebrow close together.

"This is Mrs. Pots, I'm the principal at Mount Irene's. I'm calling to make sure you will be attending our high school Tuesday, the...," The voice stopped and there was rustling. "19th?" She questioned me. My mom must have called her. So much for teaching me responsibility.