Alice is angry at her family for favoring their other daughter and at FP. What does she do in return?

Question: Who is Alice's sister?

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Chapter Six

Alice POV

"Why don't you just tell them about that time you lit a dumpster on fire in the south side?"

I lean back on my locker with my head against the cool metal. I watch the nerds pass me by without a look. Occasionally I get a kick out of threatening one with a scary glance. Most of them run away or try to pretend like they didn't see me in the first place. It's pretty amusing.

After a while, I get tired of not being noticed, not being talked to. I push myself off of the locker and walk down the hall to find FP sitting against his locker with his friends, talking, laughing and hollowing at stupid stuff no one will ever remember. I walk up to them and look at FP.

"Hey, Alice," he says in a casual tone, as if we hadn't been together, as if I hadn't seen him cry, as if he doesn't know everything about me. But that's okay. We were just messing around. We weren't really together. We aren't really together. He knows that we could never be together that way but he also knows that one time… we were.

FP has a Vixen leaning on his side. He has his arm around her and she is smiling up at him with a terrible grin. They are clearly sleeping together.

"Your bitch of a sister stood me up on Saturday!" Marty says.

"Am I my sister's keeper?" I ask.

She pisses me off more and more everyday. She is the good girl. She is the one that mom loves. She is the one that Carl doesn't make fun of. She is the one that gets the good grades, has the friends, wears cute clothes. She is the normal one and I am the one that is always the bad girl, the one who gets into trouble, the one who can't follow rules. Screw her and her goody two shoes attitude.

"What's up, Alice?" FP asks me, squeezing the girl to his side just a little more. It's like he is trying to show me that he has someone with him. He will never admit what he felt while we were together.

"Nothing," I say, realizing that his friends are all around, he won't talk to me. He won't say anything real and why should I expect him to? We just said that we were screwing around.

"Right," he says with a nod.

I walk away, throwing my hands up in the air and feeling rage boil inside me. It starts off pretty simple but as I get further away from FP, the school, the people, the rage builds and by the time I get to the front steps, I am boiling. My sister turns the corner, flapping her dirty blonde hair in the breeze with a sickly sweet smile that makes me want to hurt her. She flips her hair from her face and then adjusts her pink top, pulling it over her chest so that she doesn't show any cleavage, which kind of makes me laugh.

We are opposites and yet, we look pretty similar if it weren't for my black and red exterior and her pink and yellow pastels.

"What trouble did you get into today?" she asks.

"Oh beat it," I tell her.

"Kind as always," she says.

I take a couple of steps toward her, getting in her face. A few people around me scatter while some stay to watch to see if I am really going to hit my sister in the face.

"How about you get out of my face, north side want to be?" I ask.

"Oh, you mean just like your little varsity boyfriend?" she asks. I start to walk past her but then decide that I can't let it go.

"He's not boyfriend," I say with a shrug. "Just someone I like to screw around with, not that you'd know anything about that since you've been trying to get his attention for years."

"Whatever," she says, clearly hurt.

I walk away from her and off school grounds. I can't handle this place today. Instead I go back home, dump my backpack off and grab some matches. I take Carl's gasoline tank for his old car and haul it with me to a dumpster not far from the trailers. It is far enough that it won't catch mine on fire but close enough that everyone will know what the threat is. I am done messing around with north siders who don't want to play and with fake people who think they are better than the south side.

Goodbye sister.

Goodbye FP.

Goodbye Riverdale High.

I slam open the top of the dumpster where trash and cardboard sits inside. It's pretty full so I dump the gasoline all over, making sure to spread it around. I feel a wild smile creep up on my face as I spark the match in my hand. I turn around, making sure no one is watching, though I am sure there will be plenty of people who suspect me.

Then I let go of the first match. I see a spark as I lean over the side to make sure it ignites but it only catches on the edge of the trash in the corner so I have to get another one and light it just on the edge of the cardboard. Then the real flames come, sparking up all around and igniting the dumpster with them.

"That'll teach people not to mess with me anymore," I say, watching the burning blaze of flames as they grow and grow. It sends that same spark I felt for FP through my veins. It burns through my body, wallowing in my gut and ebbing out at the edges of my fingertips. I can feel it all over and damn, it is fantastic.

When the fire becomes big enough that I can feel the heat pushing on my face and the sweat begin to trickle down my neck, I back up, making sure to get a good distance away before I see a spark go flying into the air. Whatever that was, it was flammable. There is another one but this one flies further, making a loud screeching sound and then a pop.

Aerosol cans.

"Oh, shit," I mutter and start to run. I run back as fast as I can while laughing all the way back to my trailer. I lean against it, catching my breath and hearing the cans go flying, the sparks igniting and the gentle sound of the roar of the fire.

Just two minutes later, there are sirens roaring in our direction. I look all around the trailer park. There aren't many people here during the day and anyway, a Serpent wouldn't turn me in unless they had some kind of grudge against me and I don't know any that do.

But seconds later, a cop car pulls up on the dirt in front of my house. I stand with my hands on my hips, my eyes looking wild and the smell of smoke still in my hair.

"Alice Smith?" the man in uniform asks.

"What's it to you?" I ask him.

"You're under arrest for the charge of arson."

Question: Who is Alice's sister?