Like A Sister *COMPLETED*

Chapter Two - On the Train EDITED

CHAPTER TWO: The Train Ride (EDITED)

JAMES’ POV:

Eliza giggled, attempting to flail around but, with a boy grasping every limb that was tricky.

“Let me down!”

“No,” I teased. I opened a door to an empty compartment and chucked my coat onto the baggage rack above our heads. Paul and I had handed Eliza’s arms to Sergi and Luke, and Dan and Rupert grabbed her legs so they were bodily carrying her to the compartment. Paul made to put some bags on the rack, but I stopped him. Taking everybody’s coats, I arranged them in a sort of nest. The boys were still standing there and Eliza was convulsed with laughter, partly due to Paul taking off her ballet flat and tickling her foot. Throwing the bags under the seats, I motioned to Sergi.

“Three, two, one.” They lifted Eliza up and chucked her on the baggage rack. She squealed, but the boys just laughed and threatened her with tickle torture if she tried to escape. The boys sat around on the seats, laughing.

Over the next ten minutes, Eliza called them every swear word and insult she could think of.

“Now, now, is our prisoner getting mouthy? We might need to punish her. Maybe… we should show her how well we can tickle feet,” I grinned.

“No! Please no,” she begged, screaming and laughing. Eliza started squirming and kicking, as Rupe and I held her ankles, Paul and Luke tickled and Dan and Sergi held her arms.

Okay, I know it sound like bullying. But in our third year we all poked Dan to death, fourth year was Rupert (gentle pinching – he hates spiders. Cliché, I know) and this year it’s Eliza’s. Plus, after the first hour it usually settles down. Next year, it might be…

Eliza’s POV:

Next year we torture James. Definitely. I will be so pissed if it isn’t that I will torture him anyway. Maybe little slaps… maybe flicking… Whatever. Yeah, yeah, I sound like a typical bitchy teenage girl, but you don’t understand. I was used to boys, thought they were my brothers almost, more so than my legit brother Chris, who is like six years younger; and I even had a bit of a crush on Dan, but… James makes me feel a flutter. Sure, I love all the boys; they have been my best friends for five years. But Dan and James… I don’t know, I am so confused.

Paul getting a particularly sensitive part on my foot brought me back to reality. I squealed and kicked particularly hard, managing to free my foot from Rupert’s grip. James, shocked, let go too, and somehow kicked Dan away from my wrist. Raising my eyebrow at Sergi in a will-you-let-go-or-do-I-have-to-make-you look, I slapped him on the arm and was free. Rolling off of the luggage rack, I hit the floor and ran for the door. A hand grabbed my shoulder; I tossed it off and bolted.

“Hey! She’s escaping!” I darted into a compartment with some girls in it and, like Dan had so many years ago, darted under the seat and panted, “Close the door.”

Lynette, a girl in my class, hurriedly obeyed and then three girls shielded me with their legs.

“What are you doing,” some girl asked, careful to keep her eyes on the girl in front of her.

“Hiding from the guys,” I admitted.

“Really? Wow. Why?”

“They are evil. They torture me-” I got cut off.

“Oh sweetie, wow! That’s mean. We’ll protect you,” the girls all cried, getting down and trying to hug me. Great. Now I had a dozen teenage girls hating my best friends.

“No, no it’s all fun,” I protested, but was yet again cut off.

“Found her!” A joyous shout echoed from outside the compartment. Four fifteen year old boys crowded into the compartment.