A/N: So I had a dream a while back that I found super interesting so I turned it into a story. I started writing it as a book, but then I figured a fanfic would be much more fun ! So about a year ago, I turned this story was a fanfic youtube series for Zashely (Zac Efron and Ashley Tisdale) because I couldn't think of any other couple that was being shipped, and I know like 5-7ish years ago, they were being shipped hardcore during the high school musical phase of Disney. So yeah, I chose them. BUT THEN… I found this site and fell in love with it and all its amazing readers/reviewers (: So since I gave up on the Zashley series a while ago, I decided to try and give it a shot as a Gallagher fanfic. Just a side note, there are no true points of view, just a third person narrator I guess. Also, the characters we have all come to love might be slightly different than they were in the books, but I tried to mirror them as best as possible. A few things might be out of character that might make you go, "Whoa, hold up…*blah blah* would never do that !" But like I said, I had this story written way in advance without any of the Gallagher characters in mind, so some things could be altered to fit their personalities better, but others couldn't be changed because of the storyline. One last and final thing, I had to make up some of my own characters because the Gallagher ones are grown up(ish) and there are some young'uns involved.
Alright, on with the story !
I am not Ally Carter, nor will I ever be. So I do not own the Gallagher characters, nor will I ever… ):
Rebecca Baxter laid in bed with her eyes closed, refusing to get up and start the day. It was only 6 o'clock and it was Monday, causing her to question why she decided to become a teacher in the first place. She knew waking up was hard for her to do, so it wasn't the smartest idea to make an occupation out of it. And yet, there she was, hitting the button on her alarm clock with a limp arm and eyes closed shut about to get out of bed.
It wasn't until the man in bed beside her put his arm around her waist that she opened her eyes.
She turned over to face the still tired man and smiled. "Good morning, fiancé," she said, just like every morning before that for the past few days. She couldn't help how happy she was. She was marrying the man of her dreams. Big, bad, and handsome—the perfect package.
Letting out a small tired chuckle, Grant Newman asked his beautiful bride-to-be, "Are you going to say that every morning?" even though he loved hearing her say it.
"Maybe," she said with a cheeky smile.
"Good," he said, smiling back and fully awake. "I like it."
Bex giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before rolling out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced, strutting over to their open bathroom door. She stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame. "Want to join me?" she asked, adding in a wink afterwards.
With a big smile on his face, he answered, "Maybe," like she had done before when the answer was obviously yes.
As he threw off the covers and started to get up off the bed, the couple heard a loud noise coming from their kitchen downstairs. It sounded like their metal pots and pans were being handled, and even though it was a new noise, they knew it was the same person who constantly made all the other unwanted ones in the morning.
Grant fell back onto the bed with a sigh, knowing that whatever mood Bex and he were in, it was dead now.
Bex walked across the room to their bedroom door, sympathetically telling her disappointed fiancé, "I'm so sorry."
Irritated with the constant interruptions, Grant argued, "I know she's your best friend and all, but we're getting married, Bex. We're going to need our privacy."
"I know, Grant," she said with a sigh. "Just give her some time. She's still upset about Josh," she quickly defended her heartbroken friend.
Another loud noise echoed up the stairs, causing Grant to shoot Bex a dirty look.
"I'm going to go check on her," she said, leaving the room quickly as Grant pulled a pillow over his head.
While walking into the kitchen, Bex could see her troubled friend wrestling with the pans in the lower cabinet next to the oven, trying to remove a medium sized one from the middle of the stack.
"Hey, Cam," she said as she leaned on the island.
Too focused on removing the pan without much noise—and failing—Cameron Morgan hadn't noticed her best friend make her way through the house and into the same room as her. Still holding the pan, she froze, looking like a child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Did I wake you?"
"No," Bex answered. "Lucky for you, Grant was already awake. What are you doing here so early?" She moved around the island to stand in front of her friend who didn't have to be up for work for another few hours, waiting for another one of her poor excuses.
"I was craving eggs, but I didn't have any," Cammie said, placing the pan down on the stovetop.
"Cammie, you work at a diner. You can get eggs there," Bex pointed out.
Cammie shrugged, turning away and staring at the pan beside her. Quietly, she answered, "I hate being in that house. There's too many memories…"
Knowing how hard it was for Cammie to wake up every day in a house that used to be "their home," Bex reached out and gave her a hug. "It'll get easier, I promise."
Sarcastically and with tears stinging the backs of her eyes, Cammie argued, "Oh, cause you would know." Backing away from Bex, she rolled her eyes and continued, "Bex, you have the perfect life! The perfect house, the perfect job, the perfect fiancé. You've been with the same guy since high school. You don't know how I feel."
Hurt by the outburst—and frankly, the personal attack —Bex defended, "I was just trying to help. You don't need to snap at me," a little harsher than intended.
Feeling incited by the aggressiveness in Bex's voice, Cammie snapped back even ruder. "Well, you're not helping, okay? You're constantly reminding me of your perfect relationship and it makes me sick!"
Enraged by the accusation that she purposefully rubs her engagement in her best friend's face, Bex retaliated. "So now it's my fault you're jealous that I'm engaged while you just got dumped?"
Stunned by how insensitive her so-called "best friend" could be when she was going through the hardest time of her life, Cammie shut down, keeping her mouth closed and fighting back the tears. Although she wanted to say something that would cut just as deep, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind just kept going back to when the love of her life left and her whole world came crashing down.
Thankfully, Grant was suddenly in the doorway to the kitchen and clearing his throat, either to break the ever-growing silent tension or to let the two women know that he was now in their presence and could hear everything they were saying.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said, knowing full well that he did mean to. Even though Cammie intruded on his personal life with Bex a lot since her breakup, she was still family to them, especially Bex. So he knew that if he didn't interrupt, the two ladies would regret ruining their friendship with some poor choice of wording during a heated discussion.
"I was just leaving anyway," Cammie said, avoiding eye contact with both him and the women who stood in front of her.
"Cammie," Grant said, letting her know that she didn't have to; that she was welcomed to stay and patch up any damage her and Bex may have done. As reluctant as he was earlier to having her in his house that morning, he was even more reluctant on letting her walk out the door with an unresolved fight lingering between her and Bex.
"It's fine," she said, putting the pan back in the cabinet with a loud clang. "I'm actually late for work, so I'm just going to go," she lied, making her way to the back door.
Watching her friend walk past her without even a glance made Bex realize that she had gone too far. Sure, she and Cammie fought sometimes and they both had said some things that they later regretted, but what she had said that morning and how insensitive she had been was unacceptable. She knew she should apologize, but that was something she rarely did. Most of their apologies were unspoken; they knew when the other one was sorry with a single look.
But Cammie wasn't looking at her, and it seemed as if she was going to walk right out the door without doing so.
Quickly before Cammie left, Bex said, softly, "I'll see you later," hoping Cammie would sense her regret and the implied apology.
The only answer she got was the slamming of the door.
After a few short moments of silence, Grant grabbed a cup of coffee and muttered, "Well, that escalated quickly."
With a sigh, Bex turned to him, telling him with a look that she was not amused by his attempt at breaking the tension.
Sipping his coffee, he could feel the tension growing even though Cammie was no longer there. Figuring he wasn't going to be able to make his fiancé feel better, he offered up, "You should start getting ready, sweetie. You don't want to be late."
Upset with herself for letting her anger take over when she knew Cammie was only lashing out due to her depression, Bex only nodded.
Grant took another sip of his coffee, watching the beautiful woman stand there absentmindedly. "So," he started, breaking out into a small smile. "About that shower…"
Finally, Bex showed some kind of response. Letting out a small laugh, she shook her head, amazed at how quickly he could make her feel better without even trying.
Cammie walked into the diner shortly after leaving Bex's house. Still upset by what was said, she stormed off into the back, drawing everyone's eyes to her. She then returned out front with a waitress apron draped around her waist and an order booklet in her hand.
Noticing how irate Cammie was and how unsettled the customers were by her frenzy, Elizabeth Sutton, one of the waitresses on duty, walked over to her still carrying plates full of breakfast items on a tray. "Um, what are you doing here?" she asked, standing in front of Cammie and cutting her off from proceeding to take a couple's order.
"Bex kicked me out," Cammie answered with a huff.
"So go home. Don't come to work two hours early. This is the third day in a row now, Cammie."
"Liz, you know I can't go home," Cammie said, walking past her smaller friend, who did nothing to stop her.
"Cam, I know I'm one of your best friends and I'm supposed to be supportive, but it's been over a month since Josh called off the wedding. It's time to move on," Liz told her as she followed her behind the counter.
Although she knew her friend was right, like always, she also knew that this feeling wasn't just going to go away because her friends wanted it to. She would never admit it to anybody, but she was starting to believe that she would never get over what happened, much less the man who sent her into this depression.
Suddenly irritated by everyone nagging her to do the impossible, Cammie snapped, "I already have Bex on my back. I don't need you, too, so can we just drop it?"
A few moments past where they stood in silence, Cammie's eyes pleading and Liz's refusing to back down. Finally, Liz looked away, unable to handle seeing the hurt in her friend's eyes any longer. It may have been almost two months since the unfortunate "incident", but Cammie's heart was far from being healed, and Liz for one hated recognizing that.
"Fine," she said, handing Cammie the remaining plates on the tray. "Give these to table two," she ordered.
Without another word, Cammie walked over and placed the two plates on the table. "Who ordered what?" she asked, not caring that she was being the most unprofessional she had ever been.
"Um, I ordered the breakfast burrito," the high school-aged boy said, sliding the plate over to place it in front of him.
"So, you must be the eggs, bacon and hash browns," Cammie said to the girl on the other side of the booth.
She nodded, stunned by the harshness in Cammie's voice, but Cammie didn't bother to apologize. She simply scooted the plate in front of the high schooler and walked away.
Liz, appalled by what she had witnessed, stomped up to her fellow waitress and grabbed her arm, spinning Cammie around quickly and causing the sour expression on her face to grow even more upset.
"You can't go talking to customers like that, Cammie," Liz whisper-shouted. "Those two are a couple of regulars. You can't go chasing them off. Get it together or go home."
Liz had never been so harsh before. Cammie, taken aback by how assertive she was when it came to the diner, had promised to be on her best behavior; no more outbursts.
"Good," Liz said, sighing. Cammie could see how relieved Liz was to not having to be so stern anymore, and she felt bad for putting Liz through that. Liz was a gentle person who hated confrontation and shied away from most altercations. She was smaller than the rest of their friends, resembling a small pixie or fairy with her bright blonde hair and big innocent eyes. She hardly ever raised her voice, but when she did, Cammie knew better than to disobey orders.
"Why don't you go clean the counters?" Liz said before walking away to serve another table. It had sounded like a suggestion, but Cammie knew it was more of command, which could be the same thing in Liz's case.
Behind the counter, Cammie grabbed a damp towel and began wiping down the sticky breakfast-bar-styled countertop. After being asked for a cup of coffee, she set down the towel and made her way over to the coffee machine. The smell of the coffee filled the diner as the fresh batch was brewed, something Cammie always favored about that place. You don't get any more small-town than that, even in a tiny barely-there-town like Roseville, Virginia.
She handed the man at the far end of the counter the hot mug and went back to grab her rag, glancing out the window in the process.
There was a man on a motorcycle parking his bike just outside the door. She stopped to watch as he cut the engine of the Harley and climbed off. It wasn't until he walked through the doors that he took off his helmet, but by then, in order to refrain from being caught staring, Cammie had looked away and begun cleaning the counter again.
The man sat down in front of her, giving her the perfect opportunity to look up. He had dark hair and dark green eyes, and he was wearing a leather jacket over a black shirt where his sunglasses hung from the neckline. He was extremely attractive, and he was staring at Cammie with those enticing dark eyes and sending chills down her back.
"Good morning, can I get you anything?" she asked, willing herself to hold the eye contact no matter how intense it became.
"I'd love some coffee," the man said, putting his helmet on the stool beside him. His voice was rich and smooth, sending another chill down her spine.
As she poured him a cup, she stole quick glances at him to notice little details. He was average height for a male his age, but his shoulders were a bit broader and the t-shirt was snug against the bigger muscles in his chest. His hair was messy and his hands were dirty, almost as if he had been working on a car (or more likely a motorcycle) before coming to the diner. His eyes had some life in them, but it was as if the life was dwindling, like the eyes of an older dog. She had thought that he was too young to look so burnt out, but then she realized that it was just his eyes that were so tired; everything else was young and strong.
When she handed him the cup, though, the tiredness was gone. He thanked her and grabbed the coffee, looking into her eyes and smiling just a bit, causing a spark to appear within the emerald green iris.
She thought that maybe she was wrong—maybe she was projecting herself onto others, because God knows how burnt out and tired of life Cammie was. After dealing with the breakup and trying to move past the depression she was in, she often felt like she could sleep for days on end. And she thought that maybe this new guy knew what that felt like, but that thought had diminished when the spark appeared.
She went back to scrubbing down the counters, noticing how uncomfortable the man sat on the other side of it.
Trying to make the air between them less awkward, she asked him for his name.
"Zach," he said, glancing over his shoulder and staring out the window.
Feeling the need to stay out of his business, she ignored it. After all, people have done stranger things in the diner.
"Where are you from, Zach? Because you're sure not from Roseville."
Nervously, she continued cleaning the same spot on the counter over and over again. Zach glanced down at it for a split second, but didn't say anything.
"I'm traveling from North Carolina," he answered, taking another sip of his coffee.
"What brings you to Virginia?"
He looked at her, then said after a moment of hesitation, "That old town was starting to feel suffocating." He was choosing his words carefully, Cammie noticed, and he thought it through before he spoke. "I had to get out."
Although most people would wonder what exactly made him feel that way, Cammie didn't need an explanation. "I know the feeling," she answered, thinking back to months ago when everyone in town had heard of the breakup and everywhere she went, whispers followed.
That's when she noticed the eyes of the two kids she served moments before glued to the man at the counter. When Zach saw her looking past him, he turned around, locking eyes with the two observers as well.
"Don't take it personally," Cammie said, turning her attention back to Zach. "It's not every day you see someone new around this town."
"Don't worry. I'm used to it," he explained, easing off the stool and grabbing his helmet. "Thank you for the coffee."
"No problem," Cammie said, feeling a bit disappointed that he was heading for the door. "Have a good day, Zach."
Stopping at the door, the mysterious man turned back to the counter. "I'm sorry, I never got your name," he said, running his hand through his hair.
"Cammie," she said, smiling.
He nodded, and gave her a half smile as he echoed, "Have a nice day, Cammie." Then, he was out the door.
Cammie watched as he climbed back onto his motorcycle and checked his surroundings multiple times. Just as he went to put his helmet back on, Cammie caught a glimpse of his eyes one last time, and just like before, the spark was gone.
She knew the meaning behind it, for she had been doing the same thing for the past eight weeks. The spark was an act for everyone to buy into and believe was constantly there. Truth was, though, that it disappeared when the owner thought no one was watching.
Too bad for Zach, Cammie thought that he was someone worth watching, and not because he was the attractive new guy.
But because he was the attractive new guy with something to hide.
And she was determined to find out what.
A/N: So I'm hoping there's some mystery going on here, and that you guys are left wondering what's Zach hiding? I'm not going to say what it is cause I want it to be a mystery, BUT I will answer any questions regarding any confusion throughout the story. This chapter may not have been super confusing, but like I said in the pre-A/N I had this whole story already kind of created so I know that it will get confusing at times, so just shoot me any questions now or in future chapters (:
Anyway, thanks for reading !