My Brother's Beta (UNEDITED SAMPLE)

7 My Brother's Beta

So... I accidentally deleted this chapter, and had to write it again almost a year after the first version. I think this version's better, but then again, I can't remember much of the original :/

Vote, comment or fan if you like it :)

Enjoy xx

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Chapter Seven

The burger in front of me didn’t look nearly as appetizing as what the shop’s photo of it did. The meat patty was dry and only on one side of the burger, the lettuce looked dead, the pickles and onion I had taken out for safety reasons and the tomato was buried in a pile of mayonnaise.

Sounds delicious.

I took a cautious bite of it, chewing slowly, only to find that the bread was stale and spit it out into a napkin, which I threw out with the remainder of the burger close behind. Sighing, I slipped slowly on my Coke while looking around the busy airport.

There was a mother who was talking on her phone quickly, but was easily becoming distracted by her son. Eventually she gave in and hung up, reaching down to grab the little boy’s hand.

A business man walked casually down the large terminal, his body enclosed in a black suit. His pace quickened after checking his watch, and soon enough he rounded a corner and went out of sight.

Everyone here looked so rushed. I couldn’t see a single person like me who was just chilling in a café for half an hour. Then again, I bet if I don’t hurry I’ll be rushing too. I stood up and dumped the last few sips of my drink into the bin. It was that type of cordial coke that tastes like chemical water, so I wasn’t too sad to part with it.

Wiping my hands on my jeans, I picked up my duffle bag and threw it over my shoulder. I had a look around, trying to determine which way to go for flight 422, but instead something else caught my eye.

A man was holding up the sign “Bethany Smith”, looking straight at me. Well, I couldn’t really see his eyes due to the red baseball cap perched on his head, but he was turned right in my direction. He had faded blue jeans on, and a black singlet that showed off his well defined muscles. I looked at him curiously for a moment, closely examining his white converse.

They were Kyle’s converse.

I knew they were my brother’s, because just last year I had drawn all over them in dark green marker because I got bored. He had gotten really angry at me, until one or two of the sluts that usually surround him gave a few compliments on them.

I ran over to him, about to tackle him to the ground, but then I saw his hair. It was blonde. Kyle’s hair is brunette, like mine, and this man’s hair didn’t look dyed.

When I was about a metre or so away from the guy who was posing as my brother, he took off his cap.

“Josh!” I squealed happily, closing the small distance between us and hugging him tightly. Josh is one of my brother’s best friends, practically an older brother. Him and my brother are apart of a group of four boys that had been inseparable for years. He has a mop of beach-blonde hair on his head, sweeping into a heavy quiff. And a pair of blue eyes that reminded me of the water in Fiji. He had the physique to make any girl blush – with myself as an exception – but he was much too nice to play girls like my brother and Parker did. Kyle’s best mate is like Josh; gorgeous but too thoughtful to break anyone’s heart.