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TEAM ALPHA - Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

I met Zoey on Yonge street the next day. I was trying to tell myself to breathe, to act cool. Technically, it wasn’t a date. I just met the last few weeks of school last year and found out we had some stuff in common, and that we were both interested at a little window-shopping and movie-watching. So she called a few of her friends and I called a few of mine. It was fun up to that point. Then Randy had a b-ball game and Cole had math tutoring. And Tracy had a piano competition, Claire a shopping date with her mom, and Harriet was out of the country beating the bush in Australia.
I saw her as she stepped out of the bus – a few inches short of me, brilliant hazel eyes, strawberry-blond hair, blue summer skirt and white tank top. She was carrying a small, pink purse on one arm. I cleared my throat, brushed back my hair and stuck my hands into my jean’s pockets, leaning slightly forward. She saw me, smiled, and waved. I couldn’t help smiling back. I waved. “Yo,” I said simply.
“Hey,” she said.
“So…uh, what do you wanna watch?” I inquired.
She shrugged. “I’m in the mood for some scary movies!”
Okay. That was surprising. “Sure,” I said. We had high-school student passes. We could pass through a 14A-rated thing at the most. “What do you wanna watch?”
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TEAM ALPHA - Chapter 1

Meet Sam.

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CHAPTER ONE

Toronto, OT, Canada

The iced coffee machine was being a total idiot. No one had told me it was broken and once my shift started, all hell broke loose. I found myself first trying to stop the flooding milk-brown stuff with my hands. Next , I was standing stupidly with my butt soaked with wet caffeine and angry customers’ eyes drilling into my head.
“Sam, you’re such a dunce.” Hands on her hips, Phoebe, my cousin and manager, strolled towards me with a hunk of towel. “Wipe up the mess while I sort out the customers.”
“Hey! No one told me it was broken,” I protested.
She yanked a piece of paper taped on one side of the machine. “Don’t tell me you can’t read.”
“Oh.” I gave an embarrassed smile when I saw that the paper read “UNAVAILABLE FOR USE TODAY.”
I waited behind the doughnut machine while Phoebe dealt with the pissed-off customers. The doughnut machine was pretty cool anyway, with its conveyor belt of sugary goodness, showing everyone through a pane of glass the doughnut-making process. Some say Krispy Kreme will shut down soon, and this machine made me sad. I watched it dejectedly for about ten minutes before I jumped back under the “ORDER HERE” sign.
I sighed and tapped my hands on the cash register. For the tenth time today, the same question rattled on in my brain, “How the heck did your brother convince your cousin to hire you to work here for the whole summer, you nitwit?”
Yeah, I’m Sam, age fourteen, an average student at Redford Secondary. In fact, I’m about the most average person you’ll ever meet, other than the fact that I'm a total klutz fifty-percent of the time. I have a brother and a mother and a gone father. We have an average income and live in an average neat apartment. I’m of medium height and weight. I have brown eyes and brown hair, which is a common gene. I have an okay fashion taste, I guess. I have my good subjects and bad subjects. I like my music, I like my TV, and I like to fight with my bro over the PlayStation 2 we own. We don’t have a pet because mom’s allergic. I’ve got nice friends but I’m not too popular. I don’t have a girlfriend…yet. I get good grades and bad grades. I have my hobbies, and I –
And yes, I’m a boring person. In fact, why waste so much time on me? You were probably drawn to this book because of a snazzy cover and a snazzier title. But now that you've met me, the average kid, who's obviously the protagonist because I'm narrating in first-person, you might as well put this book down!
Twenty minutes later, my shift was almost over – thank God! I slumped over the counter and took off my ugly cap when Phoebe – my cousin/trainer/slave-driver – wasn’t looking. Phoebe had offered me this job even though I was underage, and I had been lured in by the eight-dollars-an-hour wage.
They were playing the evening news on the TV mounted at the ceiling corner. I chewed my fingernails and watched the headline story – something about ten terrorists’ plan to bomb five airlines with bottles of water. At first it didn’t make much sense until I saw the genius in it and shivered. If they can blow up planes with bottles of Evian, I don’t want to go on a plane again!
Phoebe was leaning over the counter and reading The Toronto Star. She wrinkled her freckled nose and rubbed her greasy face. “Now they’re preventing anyone from bringing liquid onboard. Can’t you believe that?”
Suddenly two men dressed in black suits and wearing black sunglasses barged into the restaurant. They looked almost identical, and the way they walked into the deserted fast food joint made me snap upright at attention.
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TEAM ALPHA - Prologue

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