Alpha Cain
The boy frowns at me, crossing his arms across his chest and waiting for me to move.
"You should be orange, like your hair." His friend stands beside him, mimicking his position and I see red, shoving the friend with such force that he falls onto his bottom.
"You be orange." I tell him, my bottom lip stuck out in an angry pout, when I turn back to the brown eyed boy, he's smiling at me.
"You can be green. I'll be yellow, so we're always next to each other, like best friends." He offers his hand out to shake, like my dad does with his friends and I laugh, because no one's ever shaken my hand before.
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