Saved by the Alpha

Chapter 1: Escape

CHAPTER 1: ESCAPE

I woke up to the sun bursting through my curtains. It was too warm in my room, that gross sticky kind of warm. I threw the covers off my body and lay there for a while. I stared at the ceiling above me for what felt like ages until my phone buzzed. I glanced over to the clock which happily sat on my bed side table and I groaned when my eyes read the time – it was 7AM. I dragged my phone of the table and stared at it with one eye open. It was my friend Becca.

I opened the message, it read:

Don't be late today or Coach will kill you and I'll help.

I sighed. I had forgotten I had track practice today. Well, at least it's Friday.

I rested my head back onto my pillows and I could feel my eyes beginning to shut. Bad decision.

"CALL ME, BEEP ME, IF YA WANNA REACH ME," my ears were filled with the Kim Possible theme tune and I soon realised that my phone was ringing. I moaned, and rolled over to grab my phone which had decided to jump off the bed. As I reached down, I glanced at the caller ID. It was Becca. I turned my head to the clock next to me; it was 9AM, which meant I was in deep, deep shit.

"Hey Becca." I paused, "What's up?" I held my breath waiting for her reply.

"Don't you 'what's up' me!! Where the hell are you?!" Becca practically screamed down the phone.

I laughed a little and mumbled, "Uh, at home."

"You are dead – do you know that?" Becca sighed, I don't think she was surprised.

"Yeah, Coach is going to have my head. See you in 20 minutes."

Coach was my track instructor and he expected you to turn up for training even if you had broken your leg; so my being late (again) is not going to sit well with him. He expected the most of his students and you might think that's a very encouraging instructor; that he wants his students to be the best that they can and achieve great goals – but no. Coach expected the most that HE THOUGHT you could give, which meant dying every Friday, Saturday and Tuesday morning

I rolled out of bed, the cold air hitting my bare skin. I jumped out of my shorts and SpongeBob t-shirt and threw on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and an unbuttoned checked shirt. I walked into my bathroom and quickly grabbed a hair brush the minute I saw the state of my hair. It was charcoal black and rested at the small of my back. It made my skin look even paler than it was - I was practically a ghost. I brushed through the mess I call my hair and took on more glance in the mirror.

It isn't going to get much better than this.

Before I left my room, my phone received a text. It was from Becca which read:

Remember you have the Art Expedition after training so bring your stuff.

I swear Becca was my personal assistant. I'd most likely be lost in the wilderness if I didn't have her in my life. She was my best and only friend. I grabbed my track bag and my large art folder, leaving my room and heading downstairs. I opened the front door to find my bike lying on the ground. I attached my art folder to the back of my bike and strapped my track bag around my body.

I re-entered the house quickly to grab breakfast but as I entered the kitchen I was greeted by a large group of people standing around what seemed to be a fight.

Oh god, not more drama. I passed by them and went over to the fridge and grabbed an apple. This will have to do, I thought to myself. I turned back around ready to leave to find everyone's gaze on me. I noticed that some of the girls were holding back giggles and the rest were just smirking at me.