So I was bored and I wrote this. I know, I probably should be updating my other stories. I'm sorry. I feel like a really bad person. A really bad lazy person. Oh well, on with the story.

Disclaimer: If I were Ally Carter, I would have a copy of Only the Good Spy Young IN MY HANDS. RIGHT NOW. But I don't, and that makes me very very sad.

Hiding- 1 a : to put out of sight : secrete b : to conceal for shelter or protection : shield
2 : to keep secret hide the truth
3 : to screen from or as if from view : obscure
4 : to turn (the eyes or face) away in shame or anger.

Chameleon. Cammie the Chameleon. It's a hard name to live up to. A hard life to live, but when it gets too difficult, you can hide. So maybe it's worth it.

I've been hiding for a while now, but nobody's going to be noticing that anytime soon. Out of sight, out of mind. That's what I always say. Right now, I'm slipping through the depths of the Gallagher Academy. I'm hiding. I'm not sure what it's from yet though.

I'm hiding from my friends, I guess. They'll want to know how I'm doing. I don't really know the answer to that question….

I'm hiding from my mom. She'll see through whatever lies I try to tell. Even if I'm lying to myself.

I'm hiding from Mr. Solomon. He'll want to know exactly what happened. Verbatim. Telling means remembering, and all I really want to do is forget.

So, I guess I'm hiding from my life. The spy life. Too bad I'll have to go back…eventually.

There's really only one thing I can do.

Lie- 1 : to make an untrue statement with intent to deceive
2 : to create a false or misleading impression

So I go back up. A straight face and a cover. I can do this. I've been trained to do this. I stop by my room, expecting to be hit with a million questions. Expecting to be hit by Bex. Expecting anything….but the silence. You can't lie in silence.

The room's empty though. I step over the floorboards, avoiding the squeaky parts. I put on way-to-big gray sweats and a red tank top. I leave my hair up too. You can see the bruises already. Tinges of purple showing up on my shoulders and neck.

Sometimes, lying is impossible.

Truth- 1 a archaic : fidelity, constancy b : sincerity in action, character, and utterance
2 a (1) : the state of being the case : fact (2) : the body of real things, events, and facts

Knocking on my mom's door wasn't the hard part. Going in was easier than I thought it could be. But when I sat on the leather couch, and looked up to meet my mother's eyes, I choked. My cover was gone. A girl is only as strong as her cover I chided myself. What kind of spy am I?

But right then, I couldn't be a spy. I was a daughter, and looking into my mom's tear stained eyes I knew I couldn't lie to her.

"Cammie" She choked on my name.

"Ms. Morgan, can you please tell me what happened." I hadn't even seen Solomon enter the room. I'm losing my touch. As I turned to look at him, I caught my reflection in a plaque on the wall. My eye was turning black and I was pretty sure that I needed stitches above my left eye.

I took a breath, as the door opened. "I can't…" Zach trailed off as he stepped in. "never mind, I found her." He closed the door and leaned against it. Turning into stone. He studied my face as I looked back at Mr. Solomon.

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.

Fear- : to be afraid or apprehensive feared for their lives

I started into the story, feeling it again. Living it again.

I was running out by the barn. I was only out for about ten minutes when I felt eyes. Cold, staring, stalking eyes. I stopped and turned. There wasn't anything there. I should've known better. Things aren't always what they seem. Still, I didn't want to take any chances. I sped up and turned back toward the school. I felt something coming at me from the right. I turned just in time to duck, as a man in black sailed over me. By the time I stood up there were three standing around me. I fought, and I got lucky. I took down two with napotine patches and the third got away. Then I came back into the school.

I focused back into the room, and shivered. Zach sat down next to me, as my Mom came to my other side. Solomon just stared off into space. Spies weren't supposed to get scared.

I was terrified.

Stitches- 1 a : a strand or fiber used to sew parts of the living body; also : a stitch made with a suture b : the act or process of sewing with sutures
2 a : a uniting of parts b : the seam or seam like line along which two things or parts are sewed or united

Solomon had sent Zach and I down to the infirmary because he thought I needed stitches. I thought I needed stitches too. More than just above my eye, I needed stitches in my life. There were so many open ends that I needed to sew together. I didn't even realize that Zach was stitching up my eye until I felt a little tug.

"Um, Zach shouldn't you let the nurse do that?" I asked lightly. He didn't look away from what he was doing when he said,

"Um, Gallagher Girl, I happen to be a spy." He sounded mocking, light. Like nothing bad had happened. And for a moment, I thought that nothing had.

"So apparently you can do anything."

"Apparently, I can."

Curiosity- 1 : desire to know: a : inquisitive interest in others' concerns : nosiness b : interest leading to inquiry intellectual curiosity

Zach walked me back up to my room slowly. He was smirking, but I don't think he could help it. He is Zach Goode after all. I put my hand on the doorknob praying that my roommates were asleep. I should know better. As I pulled the door open I came face to face with Rebecca Baxter. I took a breath and looked at Zach with a they-are-going-to-kill-me look. He laughed, and leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and it was sweet and it was shorter than I would of liked.

"Goodnight Gallagher Girl."

I turned back to my three gaping roommates with only one thought. He so did that on purpose.

Now they were curious. Which was pretty bad for me. They are spies.

Curiosity killed the cat. But then again, I'm the chameleon.

Things are different.

Interrogate- 1 : to question formally and systematically
2 : to give or send out a signal to (as a transponder) for triggering an appropriate response

Macey was the first one to recover from the shock of Zach. She walked over to me, and hugged me.

That's odd. Macey doesn't usually hug.

"I saw what he did, and yes it was on purpose," she whispered. "I think I like him more too. He's evil." She smiled and took a step back.

I looked back over at Bex. She was smiling. That's scary. "Cammie. Do you realize that he just kissed you?"

"Um, yeah, I do."

"What did you to talk about on the way up here?" Liz cut in.

"Yeah Cammie, tell us." Macey sang. "Tell us everything."

And even though the truth can set you free, that doesn't mean that it won't be painful.

So, I think I hated this just a little. It's different than what I usuall write...kind of. I abused the bold button quite a bit:) So, review?

-If you haven't read any of my other stories, than I think you should check them out (it may motivate me to get off my lazy butt and write more:))

- Goode Times

-Too bad it's classified

-I'll be home for christmas (one shot song-fic)

and there's another one-shot that i CAN NOT remember the title of...Oh well:) (translation: I'm too lazy to go look at it...)

-Authors Note...over:)