© Copyright 2015. Do not copy. Plot idea, OC characters, and overall writing is mine. Ally Carter owns original characters and series.
Cammie's POV
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was howling, blowing leaves and twigs everywhere. Suddenly, a cry sounded from the woods, raccoons calling out through the night. The sound was high and piercing, making even the wolves cower in fear. The Moon shown down on the streets in an eerie way, braking out from behind a dusting of clouds. Bats swooped down to eat innocent bugs flying around the misty air.
Yup. That pretty much describes last night. And it carried through out the morning.
I walked into school, bags under my eyes from a sleepiness night with a girl butting her nose into my life like all best friends should. Why? I guess I should tell you what happened.
My boyfriend, Jake, and I decided to go for a walk the night before. He said it would be fun to walk in a storm. I agreed because I loved it when he offered me his coat and wrapped his arms protectively around me. I guess he had a different idea on how our 'date' was going to go.
We got a few miles down the road, walking in a comfortable silence that I always loved. I'd look at the wet road because I liked how the images of the street lamps were blurry form the rain. When we came to a big entrance to the woods, Jake took my hands and turned me towards him. I looked at his soft brown eyes as his light brown hair blew violently in the wind.
I always loved the way my hands felt in his. My whole body would always get tingly and it made me smile even more. The love we had for each other was rare, but there was just enough of it in the world for some lucky couples to have it. I was happy we were one of those couples. The kind that can go on long walks and not have to utter a word, the kind that can fool around and make you laugh that embarrassing laugh you hated so much. That was us.
"Cam, I'm breaking up with you." I stared at him in shock because, well, that's what you do when your boyfriend of six months breaks up with you on a night with that perfect setting.
It was then that realized there was no such thing as luck.
"Why?" I asked with a shaky voice. I could feel those pathetic tears fill my eyes. It almost stung, trying to keep those darn things from spilling while the wind practically pushed them out.
Jake ran a hand through his wet hair and turned his head to look at the dim street lamp instead of facing me. Rain slapped my skin, soaking me to the bone. I didn't care though. My mind was still trying to process what he just said.
I crossed my arms and gave a dry laugh as drops of water dripped from my coat and fell on the cement sidewalk.
"Sure, okay, whatever." I backed up, ready to turn and run home before I humiliated my self with some pathetic sob, but it seemed Jake was still ripping off the bandage.
He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. His eyes were dark, fooling me into thinking he was sorry, but I knew it was all an act. That's what Jake does best though, isn't it? Act and play with people's emotions? He did it before he asked me out. How could I be so stupid to think we'd last? That he wasn't just playing me too?
"I love you Cam, but, my parents- they got a job offer in New York with good pay. I- we're moving." He clenched his jaw tight, his hand holding mine tighter. My teeth chattered from the cold, my hoodie doing nothing to protect me. It was silent, besides the howling wind and the pitter patter of the rain hitting the pavement.
My heart sped up, confused and angry that he would dump me just because of that.
"So? W-we can do a long distance. Macey has p-preston and he's three hundred miles away." I stated through my chattering teeth. Jake only shook his head.
"I can't do that Cam. I-I can't and I won't." He pulled me into a hug like I would want one last one from him before he left. Why the heck would I want to hug the boy who just broke my heart?
"K, sure. Look, it's cold and I want to leave." No, I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to stay either.
"Let me walk you home." He insisted. I scoffed at him, enjoying the look of hurt in his eyes.
"No, I'm good thanks." I ripped my hand from his and walked away. The sound of my feet hitting the wet cement soothed me.
It's funny how during the most intense emotions, you notice everything going on around you. Like the rain slamming against windows, or the sound of rushing water flowing out of a gutter. Even the wind blowing through the trees, its whistling creating a creepy tone through the air.
Just as I was about to turn a corner, Jake decided to remind me he was still on this planet.
"I love you!" He yelled.
Really? Did he really just say that?
"Go die!" I yelled back, not even turning to look at him. Sure, that was a little dramatic, but I don't do well in these kinds of situations. Being upset was something I tried to avoid. I didn't like the idea of crying in front of people and when I did, I was embarrassed about it for the next two days.
My body often liked to be on autopilot. Doing things I don't intend to happen. At the moment, my legs started pumping faster and faster until I was sprinting. My feet slammed into puddles, sometimes water would spray my face along with mud. Trees and street lamps wizzed by in a blur. My chest started hurting but I didn't care. I wanted to get away from him. To never see his face again.
Yeah right. You know he's gonna haunt your dreams. My lovely conscience reminded me.
I finally reached my house. It was big, and white, and plain. The kind of house that shouts 'typical American family'. Two gardens were laid against the front of the wooden porch on either side of the stone walkway. They were practically dead thanks to my mother's not so green thumb. Skinny vines wrapped around the untamed plants, slowly killing them by cutting off the supply of water and carbon dioxide because they're too selfish to give any to the important, purposefully planted flowers. My little brother's whirligig sat proudly next to the black mailbox, spazzing out from the strong wind. I pushed the green and blue craft further in the ground to keep it from flying away and continued to walk to my front porch.
Once I reached my front door, I took out my key and slid it in the lock. Hearing the click, I turned the knob and entered the place I've called home my whole life. I shut the porch light off and pulled my sneakers off my feet.
"Wonderful." I muttered, tipping my shoes upside down causing water to pour from them.
It was an almost impossible task as I tried to walk to my room. I nearly fell on my face at least three times from my wet feet making almost no friction on the wooden floor. When I finally did reach my room, I quietly closed the door before pulling my soaking wet clothes off and throwing them into a pile in the corner of my room.
After getting warm pajamas on, I pulled back the covers on my bed and slid in. For the rest of the night, my body took turns sleeping and crying. Leading me into the next day.
School is the worst place on earth. Some kids like the school dances, feed off of the drama and gossip like crazed animals, worship the ground the jocks walk on, and even like learning (I know, weird). But I don't see the point. Sure, I get my education, but that's all I'll ever get out of school. Dances don't so anything but make girls complain about how their not pretty enough and that their too fat. Gossip doesn't do anything but ruin friendships and relationships. And jocks aren't remembered by anyone the day they graduate. So what's the point?
"Hey, what's got you so down in the rain?" My best friend Bex asked as I walked across the parking lot. Her name isn't really Bex. It's actually Rebecca, but last time I called her that, I got a good kick in the side. So, next time a British person tells you not to call them something, even though you're a second grader that doesn't like to listen very well, don't call them that name. Ever. Especially when they have black genes in their DNA. Then nothing ever turns out pretty.
Life lesson #1 by Cammie Morgan.
"Stuff." I mumbled.
"Stuff." She mocked in a high tone. I rolled my eyes, ready for her mini speech. "Stuff, is what you call a pile of crap that was left on the floor. Stuff, is what you say when you're on the internet and you parents ask you what you're doing. Stuff, is what you put in pieces of fabric made to look like an animal. But when the most amazing, prettiest, coolest, nicest girl asks you why your glum, you do not reply with 'stuff'."
"Stuffing." I said.
"Qué?" She asked with the only spanish word she knew.
"Stuffing is what you put in stuffed animals. Not, 'stuff'." I said as I continued to walk with my head facing the wet muddy ground. She huffed, no doubt rolling her eyes.
"Whatever." She grumbled when we walked up the cement steps to our small school. Yes, it is small. The whole high school is made up of about five hundred kids. Our school is a proud one though.
Trophies line up along the wall in glass cases- some for spots teams, others for band and choir awards, and there were even spaces for those who one (or where runner-up) in spelling bees and other academic achievements. Other cases have art work made by students in them while others have pictures of the students that excel in sports, music, or any other activity. Red and black tiles covered the floor, reflecting every image of the students and other objects in the hallway. The walls were covered in small black tiles up until the halfway mark. Then murals take over, anything from our school mascot to the playground we once had. Yes, 'once had'.
Two years ago, my freshmen year, a senior brought a lighter to school. He went to the playground to do some 'homework' during his study hall period. As time passed Students continued to work and goof off in classes when suddenly, the fire alarm rang through the air- disturbing peace and lectures. I thank that dude because I got to miss Algebra and Global, the two classes I didn't do my homework for. Oh, and what happened to him? He's gone, out of here, no longer attending Roseville High, expelled. Yeah. . . The Goode's are like that. Thankfully, Jordan's brother, Zach, isn't as bad as him- (though he's still a stuck up snob that I would love to have in front of a target while I practice archery. Bulls-eye every time, folks.)
"So, are you ever going to tell me why you're so down and out today? Did the rain put out your fire?" Bex asked. We turned a corner, nearly running into a freshmen with glasses too big for his face and a backpack that looked heavier than him. I smiled and apologized before continuing my way to my locker.
"Jake broke up with me last night." I mumbled. Bex, being the over dramatic girl she is, covered her mouth and gasped (rather loudly) causing her clunky bracelets chiming together across her skinny brown wrists.
"That bloody Nincompoop!" She yelled. My eyes widened and I gave a low whistle.
"Nincompoop huh? Boy, he better watch out for you, Bex. I don't think his ego could take such insults." She shoved me to the side making me chuckle.
"Shut up." She said a little too loudly. She even added a giggle at the end. Bex never giggles. Ever. That could only mean one thing.
Grant. And where you find one Jerk the Jock, you always find another.
I have never been able to figure out what Bex finds so interesting in Grant Newman. He's an airhead. So much so, that he doesn't even know how to cover that lovely fact up so he can seem semi intelligent. I mean, he has the freaking IQ of a raisin! Yeah, enter face palm here_ _ _. He's also one of the guys that picks on those lower than him, meaning, one of my best friends. Elizabeth Sutton. A small little nerd that would never hurt a fly. . . Well, unless that fly is involved in a science experiment. Then you can kill any pesky fly you want and she won't even flinch.
And we also have Zachary Goode, brother of Jordan Goode, both jerks, one expelled.
If only Zach was stupid enough to get expelled. That would be the day. (Now picture me staring dreamily off into the sunset while Zachary gets burnt alive by our wonderful source of light. Because that is exactly what I am picturing at this moment.)
Anyway. Zach is Grant's best friend. Together, they could either make your life a living hell, or give you enough status for people to bow down to your every will. Pathetic, I know. But, that's not why I can't stand him.
"Hey baby!" That is why I can't stand him.
I grabbed the drooling Bex's hand and walked faster to my locker, hoping to avoid the stupid jocks. No such luck.
"I hear Jakey broke up with you. How 'bout you and I hang out later?" He shouted from across the hall. I ignored the stinging in my chest and turned to glare at him.
"How about you go fall down a cliff?" I asked in a sickly sweet tone with a fake smile. His friends whistled and 'oooohhh'd'.
"Only if I can haunt you afterwards, babe." He said with a wink. I huffed and stomped to my locker.
Sure, he was hot. Tan, shaggy brown hair, built, tall, and had amazing green eyes, but if the personality isn't worth it, drop the guy like a sack of potatoes and never think of him again.
"Drop dead." I mumbled when I walked past him.
"I don't know why he bothers you so much." Bex said once we got to first period. "The guy's hot, total bad boy, and is an amazing kisser." I looked at her, shock at what I just heard come out of her mouth. Her eyes widened as she came into realization of what she just said. "Not that I would know. Man, that would be gross." She shivered in disgust, me following the motion.
"And I don't see why you have eyes for Grant. May I remind you what he did to Lizzy last week?" I asked. Bex flinched.
"You don't honestly think he meant to trip her do you?" She asked in a small voice. "You know how clumsy little Lizzy is." I shrugged before pulling out my unfinished homework.
"Sure, she can be clumsy." I admitted while chewing on a pencil.
Stupid Calculus.
"Then you can't blame Grant for it." Knowing she wouldn't change her mind, I dropped the subject.
Zach's POV
"Drop dead." She grumbled, walking past me. I smirked at her irritation, letting my eyes watch her retreating figure and trying as hard as I could not to smack her little ass.
"Wow Zach. Don't you just feel the love in the air." Grant asked. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall of old dented lockers that could really use a good paint job.
"Why do you think Smithe dumped her anyway?" I asked. I'm sure Cam was heart-broken. Watching those two hold hands and kiss in the hallway, you could feel the love she had for him. It made me want to throw up. . . On Smithe.
"His folks found a job in England or something like that." Grant said while he searched his news-feed on Facebook. I looked at him.
"Seriously?" I asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, Sydney or something like that." My arms dropped to my sides.
"Really? You don't think it was Tokyo?" I asked, trying my damn hardest to have an obvious dumb voice.
"What?" Grant looked up at me with amusement in his eyes. "Dude, Tokyo is in Canada." I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head, wondering for the millionth time how Grant actually passed seventh grade and up.
"Dude, I hope you're joking." I grumbled. Nick decided to join in on this pathetic conversation and began to laugh while patting Grant on the back.
"Man, I just love ya sometimes." He said. Grant shrugged his shoulders as grabbed his backpack.
"Well, I'm heading off to class. See you guys at practice." With that, Grant walked off. Once he rounded the corner, Nick burst out laughing again while I just shook my head and prayed he'd find a smart girl. The question is- would he be smart enough to make her his?
Nah, I'm only kidding. If the girl was smart, she wouldn't even get involved with the dimwit.
"No one, and I mean no one, can be that stupid." My voice sounded like I was disappointed in Grant but my mind was focused more on Cammie than Grant and his tiny brain.
"Maybe he thinks girls like it." Nick suggested.
"Yes Nick. Because a girl loves it when a guy tells them he's going to take her to Paris for their anniversary only to find out he meant Alaska."
"Whatever." Nick shrugged his shoulders and unplugged his ear-buds from his phone. "I gotta jet. See you at practice."
Lunch is one of my favorite things about this place. Sure, the food tastes like shit, but the view is great.
I watched Cammie throw her head back and laugh. The sound covered my ears making me want to smile. Whatever Macey said must have been funny, because it made Cammie laugh so hard she let out a small snort. I snickered. Cam blushed and covered her mouth and nose, looking around to make sure no one heard her while her friends laughed.
"Looks like the pig's out again." Tina Walters whispered, not so quietly, to her group of Barbies. They laughed, trying to make it sound cute, but in realty, sounded like a group of squealing, well, pigs.
You're one to talk. I thought to myself.
"What do you think they're laughing at?" Grant asked, staring at Cam's table. Okay, staring at the girl at Cam's table. Grant had eyes for Rebecca Baxter ever since she punched a guy in the gut last year for whistling at her. The poor dude could barely talk for the rest of second period, loosing his dignity and his man card all in one single blow. That guy, was Grant. He hadn't whistled at her since, but did smack her ass a few times. The coward would always run away the moment she turned around though.
"I don't know, why don't you go ask them?" I suggested, moving around the meat that was supposed to be chicken barbecue but looked more like burnt mold covered in old barbecue sauce.
"You know what? I will." Grant got up and stalked over the girl's table- a man on a mission.
"Oh this has to be good." Devon mumbled. We watched Grant pull a seat from the table and plop next to Bex. She looked like she was ready to kill him while Macey and Elizabeth were on their own little worlds of science and fashion. Cammie looked confused at first, but the look soon turned to surprised when Grant put his arm over Bex's shoulders.
"What do you think they're saying?" Nick asked. I shook my head, astonished that Bex hasn't killed him yet. In fact, she looked surprisingly happy. Grant grinned and got up, winking at the girls before coming over to our table and sitting down.
"So?" I asked. Grant shoved a slice pizza in his mouth before answering.
"Macey asked Cammie how things were. She said crappy but fine. Then Macey asked about you, you know, if Cam was interested in you, and Cammie started laughing." I flinched.
I hadn't even made a move and I was already rejected. Ouch.
"Who cares what she thinks?" Tina asked. "She has no chance with you, right Zachy?" She looked at me with her big eyes heavily covered in mascara. I rolled my eyes. How can she even keep her eyes opened with that much mascara?
"Well, she sure isn't giving me much wiggle room is she?" I asked. Her mouth dropped.
"You can't seriously like her." Her tone was unbelieving.
"So what if I do? You said it yourself Walters. She has no chance with me if she keeps refusing to give me one." The bimbos looked at me in shock.
Sorry, not everyone can have the Great Goode.
When everyone went back to their lunch, I looked over to Cammie. My heart dropped.
Jake was sitting next to her, holding her hand to his disgusting lips. Bex and Macey looked like they were ready to murder him while Liz looked scared to death. Cammie, however, looked like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment.
"Little fucker." I mumbled.
Cammie tried to pull her hand away, but Jake wasn't allowing that. Bex stood up, knocking her chair over causing the attention of a few other students.
I shouldn't have saved him. Watching Bex tare him to pieces would have been great entertainment, but I decided to open my mouth instead.
"Hey, Smithe!" I yelled. The lunchroom became quiet, everyone's eyes on him and me. Jake turned around.
"What?" He spat. I stood up, my face red with anger.
"Leave the girl alone would ya? Go ruin someone else's life!" I shouted. Jake stood up, dropping Cam's hand.
Thank you.
"Shut up Goode." He seethed.
"Make me. At least I don't bother girls when I know I'm not wanted anymore. You broke her heart, stop rubbing it in." Jake was about to snap back with what ever witty comeback he could think of, but Cammie shot out of her seat and ran to out the door.
Great. This is all your fault, Smithe. I got out of my chair, calling after Cammie as she left my sight.
...
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