Just Your Average Alpha

One

My name is Andrea, but everyone calls me Andy. I'm one of those girls who is usually outspoken and over looked. My long, mousey brown hair doesn't glow. My grey eyes aren't the first thing you notice about me, and I'm not a size 00.

I work at a small printing press that does wedding invitations, greeting cards, and the like. It's not a very elegant job, but it pays decent enough to cover my rent.

I woke up this morning with an ache in my temples and I knew that it was caused by the storm last night.

I grumble as I roll out of bed with the realization that what comes with a storm is humidity, and what comes with humidity is frizzy hair.

I throw my tangled hair in a pony tail without brushing it. Nobody notices me anyways... I thought to myself.

I change out of my black silk night shorts and flowy tank top into jeans and a black camisole and throw on a blue plaid button up. I roll up the sleeves to sloppy cuffs and walk to the kitchen to make my very necessary Cup of Joe.

As I'm pouring french vanilla creamer into my mug, my phone rings.

"Hey, Lou..." I answer. "Hey, Andy! Um well as you should probably know, we had a storm last night." "Ha, yeah I know. I woke up with a blazing headache..." I reply and wait for her to continue. "Well...you won't be able to come in today."

My elderly boss Lou is slow to the point, on everything. She's the sweetest, but when it come to finding out information, patience is key.

"The storm has flooded the only low-water crossing to get to the shop. It may take a couple days so congrats, you got a second weekend! Okay see you in a few days! Bye, dear!"

I hear the line go dead before I can even say bye to her myself. I smile and giggle under my breath at how spastic my boss really is.

I continue with doctoring my coffee and take it into my library/sun room and sit in my sage green love seat.

Taking a sip, I open the book I've been reading for about a week now. As soon as I turn the next page, my phone rings again.

Unknown Number.

I debate sliding my finger across the screen to answer. Probably telemarketers. I answer. "Hellooo?"

"Andrea Benton?" A deep masculine voice echos through the phone. "Um, yes? I'm her." Startled, I'm now curious on who has my number. "Look, if this is someone calling about a laptop I don't have, please don't call back." I move to end the call, but something stops me.

"I'm calling in regards to a group against the United States Government." He says after a second. "A group against the Government? Hahaha!" This is ridiculous... I thought to myself.

"You have been selected by our leader to be trained by the most elite of spies. Former U.S. Marshals." He continued.

"Ha, yeah? And what's this 'leader's' name?" I mock. "You may call him, The Alpha." He says sternly. Clearly not appreciating my tone.

*Author's Note
The picture above is of Andy.
Minus the red lipstick because she's pretty simple and doesn't like to draw attention.

I hope you enjoy my fast-paced adventure story.

I'm writing the next update as of now!

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Xoxo, Sierra.