Caught in the Middle (Alpha vs Beta)

Caught in the Middle

Chapter 1

These are my Friends

I carried the last box from the 1964 Ford Truck my dad had given me for my sixteenth birthday. We’d been grabbing, stacking and placing boxes and furniture around the house all day. Sam let out a huge sigh of relief, wiping non-existent sweat from his forehead. His black trilby hat was tipped over to the side and his converse laces were trailing on the wooden floorboards. Sam’s once laughing eyes were clouded by fake exhaustion and his hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in months.

“Holy crap my back hurts! I’m gonna need to borrow my grandmother’s walking stick for the next couple of weeks,” he said, crouching as if he’d just ran a 42km marathon.

“Are you kidding me? Ash, Cassie and I did all the work!” Elle exclaimed, placing her hands on her tiny hips. Her face was an even brighter red than her hair.

“Oh please, I pulled out that box,” he said defensively, pointing to the box to further prove his point.

“It was empty!” we cried simultaneously.

“Fine! If you don’t appreciate all of my hard work around here, I won’t grace you with my presence any further,” he replied dramatically, turning around, walking away and slamming the door. Sam was always fun to be around. His arguments and constant fights with Elle were always hilarious. Cassie and I used to record them a few years back when I used to live here. We’d upload them to YouTube and everything.

“In 5…4…3…2…1…” Elle counted on her fingers with her right hand and pointed to the door with her left.

“Are you still doing movie night?” he asked, waltzing back in.

“Duh,” Elle replied nonchalantly, picking at her nails before she walked towards me mouthing, “Predictable.”

“Yeah, sure,” I smirked, “Welcome back, Drama Queen.”

Cassie giggled as Sam scoffed, jumping on my sofa, kicking back.

“Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m gonna whack you with a spoon,” I warned.

“And I shall yell abuse at the top of my lungs.”

“Who’s gonna come save you? The nearest police station is a mile away,” countered Elle.

“Just stuff your face with some gay bacon,” he said, handing her a plastic, purple bucket filled with sugary, coloured strips of sweet goodness.

Cassie walked over to my box of movies (or as Sam calls it, our ‘Movox’), closed her eyes and dipped her hand in, reaching for a movie.

“And the movie is…?” I asked, filling my mouth with M&Ms.

“Drum roll please!” Elle exclaimed, motioning to Sam. He grabbed two strips of the candy bacon and drummed on the purple bucket. Cassie rolled her eyes.