Jodie looked out of her bedroom window at the small Beta man as he tidied his tools away in his front garden. He seemed so tiny, so fragile and disconsolate.
She knew that Mr. Brown had had a tough few years since his beautiful wife had passed away so young. She had always been so nice to Jodie, and now it was just him and his cat in the little Beta house at the end of the cul-de-sac.
When her family had first moved into the development, the Alpha homes were all new-builds, and his little home was the only one left from before - a small single-storey cottage with a pretty garden.
Before Mrs. Brown had so tragically lost her short battle with cancer, a younger Jodie had always stopped to chat to them both on her way back from school, usually as they gardened together, or with her proudly wielding a tray of something she had just baked, warm and delicious fresh from the oven… but those days seemed like such a long time ago.
Nowadays, he seemed to spend a lot of time on his own, rarely leaving his house unless heading to work or popping to the shops, and he never bothered to attend the social events organised by the almost-exclusively-Alpha neighbourhood group.
She could understand why he felt that way - resentment towards Betas was jarringly commonplace and discrimination had become a fact of modern life, a callous and cruel shift that had settled in almost imperceptibly with the plummeting number of Beta families living in the area, entire suburbs being demolished and rebuilt with Alphas - and only Alphas - in mind.
Jodie wanted so badly to reach out to him, to offer to look after his cat Layla perhaps, or to invite him over for a cup of tea, but she knew her own parents were quite disparaging of Betas, and had told her many times just to leave him be and to stop putting her nose in other peoples’ business. But… as the only Beta she really knew even a little, Jodie had always been fascinated by his tiny stature and his quiet, sheltered existence. She knew he still worked at the local library, and that he was an avid Starlings fan - something they both shared in common.
Jodie had been obsessed with the sport since she could first walk, much to the dismay of her mother, who disapproved entirely. The irony, of course, was it was Jodie’s grandfather on her Mum’s side who passed the love of football onto Jodie before he passed away. Being a lifelong fan of his hometown Newton Athletic, sometimes known as the ‘Athies’, but normally ‘the Starlings’ on account of their nearly-all black kit with blue vertical stripes, it made sense for Jodie to grow into a passionate fan of theirs. That connection with Mr. Brown was still there, a weird cosmic coincidence, of sorts, but dormant since his wife’s sad passing.
After watching the diminutive thirty-something-year-old Beta tidy away his things and disappear back inside his small home, Jodie agonised for fully thirty minutes before finally making up her mind. Her heart skittered nervously as she walked across the lawn towards his miniature front door, each step causing the ground to thud ever so slightly beneath her massive frame.
She crouched down gingerly - acutely aware of how easily she might accidentally damage his Beta-sized garden or property - and knocked gently on the door three times, hoping not to startle him.
When there was no immediate answer, she cleared her throat softly and called out in a hesitant voice: “Um… h-hello? M-Mr. Brown?”
Her fingers fidgeted anxiously against the fabric of her hoodie sleeves.
“It’s me, Jodie from next door... I-I…”
A pause, then she added quickly, “...I was just passing by… and, uh, thought I’d say hello.”
She bit her lower lip, suddenly doubting whether this was a good idea at all. What if he thought she was intruding? Or worse - what if he didn’t even remember who she was? He’d not seen her since she’d hit 18, and she had grown quite a bit in the last year or so, though she’d always been quite gangly, and taller than average for her age.
Hearing movement inside, she instinctively straightened up a little too fast, bumping her head slightly against the porch roof. She winced and ducked down, cheeks flushing pink behind her oversized glasses. The sound of Mr. Brown’s approaching footsteps made her pulse quicken - tiny, light steps compared to her own heavy footfalls.
The door cracked open, revealing Stephen peering cautiously upward. Jodie immediately shrank back a touch, as if afraid of looming over him. His blue eyes widened slightly behind his glasses at the sight of her towering form filling his entire doorway, even when hunched over. The giant red-haired girl offered a sheepish wave with fingers that looked absurdly huge when juxtaposed against his own delicate features.
“H-Hi… Mr. B,” she squeaked, before mentally kicking herself for sounding so silly and childish.
“I-I saw you working outside earlier and...” Her gaze drifted downward, noticing how the top of his head barely approached her waist despite him standing upright.
Blinking up at the enormous young woman currently occupying his full field of vision, Stephen adjusted his glasses reflexively near the bridge of his nose. After a brief moment where he simply stared up at her, processing his unexpected visitor, he remembered himself and gave a polite smile - though it didn't quite reach his tired eyes.
“Oh! Jodie, hello.” His voice was warm but reserved, tinged with surprise. He glanced briefly past her shoulder toward her Alpha sized house, as if checking to see if anyone else was accompanying her.
“You, uh... caught me about to make some tea,” he admitted. Despite his initial hesitation, there was something almost relieved about his expression - like he hadn't realized how much he missed having another person to talk to until just now. Stepping aside slightly, he gestured inward with one hand.
“Would you... like to come in? Mind the ceiling though - bit of a hazard for you, I imagine!”
There was a faint, dry humor in his tone, undercut by genuine concern for her comfort.
Her whole face lit up at his invitation, freckles practically glowing against her flushed cheeks. She nodded eagerly, sending her messy ginger ponytail bouncing.
“Oh! Y-yeah, I'd love to!” she exclaimed, before realising how loud she sounded, and clasped a giant hand to her mouth before whispering, “S-sorry...”
He smiled, completely unaffected by any presumed noisiness, before adding quietly, “It’s nice to see you… it’s... been a while.”
The words hung in the air, softer than intended - an admission of loneliness he hadn't meant to voice aloud.
Carefully, Jodie bent down to her knees to squeeze her enormous frame through the doorway, ducking her head low to avoid brushing the ceiling. Even crouching, she towered over everything inside the cozy Beta home. The scent of loose leaf tea and his library of books filled her nostrils as she moved tentatively inside, hyperaware of how every slight movement risked knocking into something.
The hallway opened into an adjoining front room almost immediately, with a small kitchenette at the far end. The main space of Stephen’s cottage was appealingly open-plan, mostly due to its small size - perhaps because there was no sense in putting any more walls in than necessary.
“Is Layla here?” Jodie asked softly, glancing around for Stephen’s cat while absentmindedly twisting the hem of her hoodie. “I've always liked cats but mum says they're too small… I would love to… see her…” Her voice trailed off wistfully.
“Oh, she's probably hiding under the sofa…” he replied, nodding in toward the living area. “...tends to do that when she hears unfamiliar footsteps. Especially ones that... well...”
He gestured vaguely at the floorboards beneath Jodie, grinning knowingly, “...make the house shake a little.”
Smiling nervously, she carefully sat down on the floor next to his sofa, her raised knees tucked comically high against her chest, the wooden boards groaning audibly as they adjusted to her weight transferring onto them.
Stephen pulled out a second mug from the cupboard. “Do you want some tea as well? Might be a bit small.”
There's no malice in the observation, just quiet acknowledgement at their ridiculous size difference.
“Yes please. Milk no sugar… if that’s ok,” she replied, staring fascinatedly at the tiny mug he held - it was barely going to be more than a few sips for her.
As he waited for the kettle to boil, Stephen leant against the counter for a moment, before studying his visitor with renewed curiosity.
“So, Jodie, what brings you by really? Not that I mind the company, of course, just… it’s a bit unusual for an Alpha teenager to want to check in on a Beta like me.” His tone remained light, but there was real intrigue layered beneath the self-deprecation.
She fidgeted, her massive shoe tapping on the floor just enough to rattle Stephen’s nearby picture frames around. Looking anywhere but at him, she mumbled, “Dunno really... Just noticed you're always sort of on your own… obviously Mrs. B’s not around any more and—”
Her face fell, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
Stephen’s smile faltered momentarily at the mention of his wife before returning, softer now. “It’s ok, I do miss her…” he admitted gently, his eyes twinkling with recollection.
Rubbing his stubble thoughtfully, he looked at Jodie for a moment, “It’s funny, you remind me of her, long red hair, same kind eyes...” Realizing how abruptly personal his observation had come out, he coughed awkwardly, trying to think of something to deflect, but it was already too late.
Sophie’s breath caught slightly at his unexpected compliment, her cheeks turning the merest touch of scarlet beneath her freckles. The comparison made her heart swell painfully - flattered and yet achingly aware of the loss behind his words.
“M-me?” she squeaked, “N-no way, Mrs. B was proper elegant an—and ladylike, not a clumsy tomboy like me…” but she beamed anyway, secretly treasuring the comparison.
Suddenly spotting movement under the coffee table, her face brightened further. “Ohh, Layla girlie! There she is!”
With surprising gentleness for someone of her size, the girl reached out a long arm and extended her hand out towards the cautious tabby peeking out.
“Heyyy gorgeous, bet you think I'm a proper monster don'tcha?” she cooed, her tone and mannerisms turning unapologetically cutesy. She stroked Layla's tiny head with feather-light precision, using just the tip of her index finger.
Watching the giant girl interacting with the tiny cat, Stephen's cautiously guarded expression melted into something warmer. He set down the steaming mug of tea on the coffee table - positioning it carefully within her reach without crowding the curious cat now sniffing Jodie's fingertip.
“You were always surprisingly good with her,” he observed, settling into the comfy armchair opposite. “Most Alphas tend to crowd or overwhelm small animals like cats and dogs unintentionally, Layla always seemed pretty comfortable around you.”
There's clear approval in his voice, along with quiet fascination at how delicately such a massive girl can handle a creature so fragile.
She blurted out, “Oh gosh Mr. B, I just love kitties, one of my friends at school volunteers at the local shelter and she’s always sending me photos, it’s so annoying she gets to go and see them whenever she wants, they’re so cute and, and—”
Immediately regretting her impulsiveness, she shrank back slightly, waiting for rejection or disinterest like at home for getting too enthusiastic, talking too loud, being too… unrefined.
But instead, a genuine warmth spread across his features, touched by the earnestness in her voice.
“I can see that, Jodie. Truly. You can come over and spend time with Layla whenever you like, it’d be my pleasure.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that cuts through his usual reserve, accompanied by a small, grateful smile.
Her shoulders relaxed visibly at his acceptance, a goofy grin spreading across her own face, revealing her braces. “Really? Oh wow, okay! Thank you so much Mr. B!”
Layla chose that moment to boldly climb onto one of her massive trainers, tiny claws pricking harmlessly through the mesh material. Jodie froze, terrified of moving and startling the tiny cat.
Stephen chuckled softly, he leant forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, “How’ve you been otherwise? School ok? Parents keeping well?”
It’s casual, polite conversation, but there’s an underlying attentiveness in his gaze - the sort that suggests he actually cares about the answer rather than just filling silence. Her enthusiasm dims slightly at the question about her parents. She picks distractedly at a loose thread on her hoodie sleeve.
“Ehh, same as always y'know? School’s school. Dad's busy with work trips, mum keeps nagging me to dress more 'ladylike'...” She rolls her eyes but there's a vulnerable wobble to her voice she can’t hide.
Realising she's at risk of oversharing, she hastily adds, “—but yeah, I mean, can’t really complain, everything’s fine really. How’s, um.. how's work and stuff for you?”
Layla, meanwhile, had slowly started to scale Jodie's leg like a mountaineer conquering Everest. The girl gasped silently, frozen in place as tiny paws kneaded tentatively at her skin through her track pants.
“Whoa, Mr. Brown, look look!” she whispered urgently, her expression one of wonder, her large hazel eyes widening prominently behind her large glasses.
“Ha - she's clearly decided you're her new cat tower,” he teased gently before addressing the question head-on.
“Work's... work,” he shrugged, mirroring her own downbeat response whilst supping his tea. “Quiet since the library downsized the Beta section. Mostly cataloguing old history and sports books now - which, coincidentally…” his eyes twinkled brightly behind his blue-framed glasses, “...might interest a certain Newton-mad individual.”
“Footy books?” she breathed, attention snapping to Stephen excitedly. “That's so cool! D-do you have any women's ones? O-or is it just Starlings ones?”
Her voice sped up with excitement, “I actually found a battered old Ken Keaton biography in this charity shop the other month, but cuz it's Beta-print the writing’s super teeny - gives me proper headaches squinting to read it.”
She wrinkled her nose adorably behind her glasses, unaware of how endearingly passionate she sounded.
They're interrupted momentarily by Layla reaching the top of Jodie's knees. The cat began circling the twin summits like she owned them before settling down atop them.
Letting out a tiny, delighted giggle, Jodie carefully curled her enormous arms around her legs, her body surrounding the cat like a protective cradle. Her whole face glowing with wonder at being chosen as the feline's throne.
“As it happens,” Stephen responded, prodding his glasses up his nose with a faux-scholarly air, “I’ve got an entire box of unsorted football books I’ve been meaning to go through - including a first edition biography of Rose Potts. That one’s Beta-size, mind you, but it might be worth the, uh, eye-strain.” His lips quirked in acknowledgment of her headache complaint.
“Could dig them out for you, if you'd like. Though fair warning,” he added with mock solemnity, “If you ask me about the ‘Performers’ era, I might bore you for hours.”
A pause. Then quieter, almost shy, “Or... you could pop round one afternoon this weekend, perhaps Saturday? Help me sort through some of my collection properly. Might even find that Keaton bio in large format, I did have an Alpha reprint of it knocking round somewhere…”
Her expression faltered momentarily at the mention of Saturday, fingers freezing mid-stroke along Layla's tiny spine.
“Oh, well… Saturday's actually my match day...” She munched her bottom lip, braces glinting as she hesitated momentarily before blurting out in a rush, “But, um… if-if you're not busy... you could come watch? Only if you want to, obviously!”
Her voice pitched upwards with nervous energy, massive hands gesturing excitedly in mid-air before she remembered the tiny cat on her knees and lowered them back carefully.
“It's just at the rec ground near the park - not far really...” The invitation tumbles out in a jumble, her freckled cheeks burning slightly. Layla purrs obliviously, a tiny rumble against Jodie's thumping heartbeat.
She can't quite believe she’s just gone and asked him to come and see her play - what if he thinks she's being way too eager, or that she's just a big show off? What if the other girls tease her for inviting a Beta? What would her parents say… then again, it’s not like they ever attended anyway.
The thought of him cheering her on from the sidelines though… well, it sent a weird little thrill zinging down her spine.
His expression brightened at the invitation, caught somewhere between surprise and delight. He gently adjusted his glasses again - a nervous habit - before breaking into a warm smile.
“I'd love to, actually. Been… well, quite a long time since I watched a proper match live, any sort of match…” he admitted, before rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly.
A chuckle escaped him, tinged with self-deprecation but mostly genuine enthusiasm.
Then, softer - almost tentatively, he asked: “What position do you play nowadays anyway? Can't imagine many other girls fancy competing against someone your... erm, your height.”
His gesture vaguely indicated her towering frame, though his tone held nothing but admiration. The mental image of this gentle giantess bulldozing other players seemed oddly charming.
She grinned bashfully, acknowledging that he’s right: her size is indeed a factor.
“Centre-back mostly - coach says nobody can get past these lanky limbs,” she demonstrated by slowly unfurling her endless legs carefully, her shoes almost touching the opposite wall of Stephen’s tiny living room as the tiny cat on her knees raised her head in annoyance, perturbed by the sudden elevation change.
Chewing her lip, she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “I sometimes get up front though, usually when we're chasing a game... got a pretty decent shot on me, haha… I almost knocked Maisie out cold the other day when I— ” her silly grin faltered suddenly as she realised how intimidating that might sound to a Beta not even 6 foot tall.
“—B-but I promise I'm super careful! Never injured anyone, not on purpose anyway, cross my heart!” She marked an exaggerated X over her chest with one massive finger, nearly displacing Layla in her earnestness.
Looking down at the tiny cat affectionately, she murmured, “Kinda nervous now you might be coming to watch me though... hope I don't mess up.”
The admission slipped out unbidden, insecurities laid bare as she tugged nervously at her sleeves.
Watching her fidget with such vulnerability, something tightened unexpectedly in Stephen’s chest. He went to reach out instinctively - then paused, remembering the sheer scale difference between them, his hand hovered in front of him uncertainly.
“I’m sure you'll be absolutely brilliant,” he insisted, voice firm with conviction yet softening at the edges. “And I'll be the daft git yelling 'Well in, Jodie!' whenever you make a tackle,” he added, smiling encouragingly at her, causing her to beam so brightly her braces caught the light.
Internally, his thoughts began to race.
Why on earth did Jodie care so much about impressing a bookish, thirty-four year-old Beta like him? There was an innocence to her enthusiasm that reminded him painfully of his own adolescence and younger adulthood, of simpler halcyon days before grief carved hollows in his life. Yet there was something new here too - the way her colossal presence made his cramped little house feel so much less empty. The way she fidgeted or bit her lip after compliments or when speaking about something passionately, and how she folded her colossal frame inward so as not to overcrowd him - it stirred something protective in him, echoes of another fiery-haired woman who so often doubted her own brilliance.
He cleared his throat and nodded toward Layla sprawled bonelessly across the girl’s kneetops. “But look, I suppose I should let you escape before this traitorous cat adopts you permanently.”
The remark came out more wistful than intended, lingering in the afternoon light flooding in through the front windows as he slowly rose to his feet out of the armchair.
Carefully scooping up the drowsy Layla in both hands - like cupping a tiny bird - Jodie deposited the cat gently onto a nearby cushion on the sofa as Stephen approached her.
The movement causes her long ginger ponytail to brush against his shoulder for just a second, sending a shiver down his spine at the accidental contact.
“Thanks Mr. Brown,” she murmured, bringing her legs in towards her body and crouching slowly to avoid headbutting the ceiling. Hunched in the cramped space, she towered over him even more dramatically now, her enormous Alpha frame eclipsing his far smaller one.
Something about the way Stephen had to tilt his neck back just to meet her eyes, even when she was hunched over practically double, made her belly flip-flop strangely.
She made her way to the front door, Stephen following her at a polite distance, patiently watching her fiddle with the undersized mechanism - a gentle smile on his face - until she finally got it open.
At the threshold, she hesitated, trying not to bite her lower lip. “So, this Saturday then... 3pm kickoff? I-I could send you directions if—” She cut herself off abruptly, realising she didn't even have his number. She fumbled inside her hoodie pocket for her phone and unlocked it - its massive screen nearly the size of Stephen's forearm.
Offering it to him with ever-so-slightly shaky hands, she whispered, “If… if you want?”
Every atom of her almost-12-foot-tall frame vibrated with hopeful tension. Why did she feel so nervous about all this?
Stephen just stared dumbly at the glowing rectangle dwarfing his hands for a moment before it finally sunk in what Jodie was waiting for. His hands reached out to grab the enormous device - her phone’s on-screen keypad looked comically oversized as he grazed his fingertips over it.
“Oh right, yes—” he said falteringly, tapping in his digits, hyperaware of how large and heavy the device looked and felt.
As he passed it back, sunlight caught the delicate red-gold hairs on her freckled hands, turning them translucent. For a dizzying second, he imagined how Jodie's power and size compared to his own.
“Cool! I mean - great! Now I can send you the pitch location and… yeah, cool.” She trailed off, suddenly realising the implications. This wasn't just neighbourly politeness anymore - this was an actual connection - a real connection with Stephen.
Her breath hitching quietly enough that she hoped he wouldn’t notice, she backed carefully through the doorway into the evening light, then stooped down to peer back inside at him, her silhouette blocking most of the sunset.
“Well ok… I’ll see you then, then, right?” she asked shyly, grinning behind the curtain of her untamed ginger fringe.
“Yeah, I’ll be there, 3pm sharp,” Stephen replied, giving her a reassuring smile and a dorky thumbs up that he immediately regretted.
She straightened up to her full height, giving him an awkward little wave that felt painfully clunky. Turning toward her own house - each long stride carrying her farther and farther away - she hugged her phone tightly to her chest, right against her beating heart.
Leaning against the doorframe, Stephen watched her retreating form with an odd mixture of amusement and wonder. The ground practically trembled under each of her steps, yet despite her coltish demeanour there was something incredibly graceful about the way she moved - tall yet powerful, each long stride full of purpose.
As she disappeared into the distance, he lingered for a moment longer, savouring the unfamiliar warmth spreading throughout his chest. It had been literal years since someone had looked at him with that kind of eager expectation, that pure, unfiltered excitement. And coming from someone like Jodie - someone so vibrant and alive - it felt... wonderful.
With a final shake of his head and a fond glance inside at Layla - now curled up smugly where Jodie had deposited her on the sofa cushion - he closed the door softly behind him. The silence of the house felt different somehow - less oppressive, more anticipatory - like it was waiting for the inevitable ping of his phone when Jodie would send him directions.
For the first time in ages, he felt the faintest whisper in his heart... one of hope.