(Author's Note) – What's up, my readers? :] Before I go on, here's the disclaimer: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING; IT ALL BELONGS TO ALLY CARTER! There—it is disclaimed.

First off: THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed What Happens When You Fall Hard, as some of you know, it was my first story and I'm incredibly glad that you all liked it. Thank you to all the support and advice, it's because of that that I'm more motivated to write. (:

Second off: SORRY for not updating this sooner. I've been really trying my hardest to make this seem interesting enough for all of you. But my beginnings are usually boring, but please read on. Here's a mini-shout-out to: ellenfp they reminded me that people were probably impatient to read this.

Third off: Please read the Epilogue of WHWYFH before you read this!

Fourth off: PLEASE ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER! (:

Chapter One: Ignorance—good or bad?

Time: 6:08 a.m. Date: September 15th

Location: Blackthorne Institute

Point of View: Zachary Goode

"When You're Gone"—Avril Lavigne

Everyone has their fair share of dislikes, being a spy doesn't change that, though our aversions are a little different. Like when we make an extra credit bomb for our Advanced Arms Research class and it doesn't meet the requirements (apparently when you detonate your bomb, it has to make a hole in the ground with at least a five-foot diameter). Jonas wasn't too happy about that; in fact, it ate away at him until it led him to inflaming a fourth of our dorm wing. On accident (I think).

(Bad News: the seniors with the charred bedrooms were pissed and violent, never a good combination. Good News: I think it went without saying that he got an A in that class)

But personally for me, what I can't stand is not knowing—being oblivious, being naïve, being ignorant. Whatever the word, it all denotes the same thing: not knowing.

Not knowing what the outcome of my espionage career would be.

Not knowing what that leather bound book was doing lying beneath my bed sheets.

Not knowing what happened to my parents after they drove away in that taxi.

Just thinking of all those things sent a rush of adrenaline into my veins; an itch creeping under my skin that could only be scratched with answers. I always thought that the guy who created the saying, "Ignorance is bliss," was an idiot. Because I wouldn't call something that keeps you up at night, that destroys your appetite, and that claws away at your sanity, bliss.

"Grant! Get your lazy ass out of the freaking bathroom or I swear to god, I will kill you with my protractor!" Surprisingly enough, I wasn't the one who said that.

The threat was followed by loud thuds against the bathroom door and an inky haired Jonas North glaring at it. He's the type of guy that comes back from summer vacation with something new every year. This time, it was an attitude that developed in the morning and was triggered by not having eaten breakfast yet.

I swiveled around in my seat just in time to see a fist connect with Grant Newman's freshly cleaned and shaven face. The summer was eerily silent, nothing like the loud cursing that my roommates were producing at that moment. Got to give it to them though, they can sure entertain a guy.

"Well, good morning to you too, Sunshine!" Grant grumbled, rubbing his chin. After a good English muffin he was back to his nerdy self. But at the moment he only let off a growl and shoved past Grant into the bathroom.

"Gee, he's worse than some hormonal pregnant lady. Just watch, he'll be having freakish cravings and burst into tears at any moment." Grant teased. He knew as well as I did that Jonas wasn't Jonas without his strange habits.

"Try telling that to him when he comes out, I'll make sure he has a protractor so he can kill you." I said pleasantly. I dodged the punch that he launched at me and smirked.

"Too slow, Grant-y." My eyes fled back to the bathroom door as it opened to reveal a (somewhat) relaxed Jonas. But of course Grant would be the one to get him pissed off again.

"You know, if you were a girl, I would say you were PMSing right now." Grant grinned casually. Jonas just glared as he did his black tie.

"Why do girls even date you?"

His smile widened. "Easy: good looks, charm, affability and that je ne sais quois, mon frère."

"Grant. Aren't you the one who said that you hated French?" I reminded.

"Yeah, but Bex thinks it's sexy when I speak French." Jonas rolled his navy colored eyes and slapped the towel onto his head.

"Don't the British hate the French?" I asked, knowing full well that it didn't apply to Bex. I smirked as Grant's brown eyes widened.

"Oh shit." I started laughing and I even think (currently) PMSing Jonas was hiding a smile of his own as he towel dried his hair.

"Oh, Grant that reminds me, you went to England for a few weeks during the summer, right?" Jonas asked, his agitation seeming to have dissipated for a moment.

Grant nodded, shocked that it didn't take shoving breakfast down his throat to have him calm. Others wouldn't have noticed that his cheeks developed a pink color as blood rushed to his ears, but we were Blackthorne Boys, we saw it all.

"You got to talk to Bex for a bit too, right?" Another nod and a hint of a smile from Grant.

"Yeah, it was nice to see her, but damn a lot of guys were after her. Not that I'm surprised." I smirked, Grant was carefree; a lot of things slip under his radar. He wasn't one that got jealous (I know. I was shocked at first too) but he still seemed bothered by the fact that guys went after Bex.

"Yeah, well…did she mention anything about Liz?" he asked hesitantly, his hands shoved into the uniform pockets.

"Aw…look at that, Zach." Grant teased. "Our little Jo is finally growing up!"

"Oh fuck off, Mom. So did she?" he persisted. Grant paused, and stared at our roommate's earnest and almost nervous face.

"Bex said she lost connection with her around the middle of July, but the last time she heard was that Sutton was getting annoyed by her cousins, but definitely fine." Jonas smiled and gathered up a few note cards on Organic Chemistry.

"Hoeveel absorptie de volgende samenstelling in zijn koolstofNMR-spectrum zal hebben?" Yeah, those 3 by 5 inched note cards were in Dutch. Looking back, Liz was probably the perfect girl for Jonas. Overachievers.

"Don't you want to know about Cammie?" Grant asked teasingly. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Nah," I lied. Most of my free time in the summer was left with thinking about her. While I was taking jabs at the punching bag, I remembered her getting annoyed that I kept trying to teach her how to do it the right. Or even when I took a break from firearm practice I remember her being psyched to start that unit, though Jordon hadn't introduced it yet. And ultimately, after everything with our final, was she okay?

"Really? 'Cause I would have thought you'd want to know how she was," Grant explained.

"I don't need to ask you, because I already know." Lie number 2. I thought back to Solomon's lesson. Pupils not dilating—check. Breathing pattern regulated—check. Steady pulse—check.

"How do you know that?" Jonas questioned, eyes astonished behind his glasses

I pointed to myself, "Spy."

Grant rolled his eyes and pointed at me. "Stalker."

"Spying isn't stalking," I pointed out. "It's just—"

"All students from grades 10 through 12 are to report to the auditorium at this time…All students from grades 10 through 12 are to report to the auditorium at this time…" a nasally, female voice droned, cutting me off midsentence.

"What about breakfast?" Jonas asked exasperatedly, scowling at the nameless voice that reverberated down the halls towards the seniors.

"Forget the food—" Grant started and Jonas snorted.

"Gee, never thought I'd hear you say that,"

"—go to hell North," Grant glared and turned his gaze to my amused one. "But seriously, I hope Dr. Steve'll make this short, his last lecture took three hours."

"It took one class period, Grant."

"Fine, it felt like three hours, but really if it felt like it, is there a difference?" I only shook my head and chuckled under my breath.

"Yeah, well tell that to Dr. Steve then,"

"If I'm ever going to tell Dr. Steve something that'll get me expelled it'll be that he needs to get some." Grant replied. He turned on his heel towards the door and I snorted, but followed anyways. Jonas spoke up.

"Who says he didn't already get some? Tim's newest rumor is that he heard groaning from his office."

Well I didn't need to know that. As I (reluctantly) contemplated that nasty visual, I couldn't help but think that on some occasions, the guy who first said "Ignorance is bliss," wasn't a total imbecile after all.

"...and I think it is in our best interest…" the rest I drowned out. Dr. Steve wasn't necessarily a bad headmaster, but when the student body hears about one of his lectures it's the same as someone telling you that as your punishment you have to watch grass die. It was a slow, boring process that wasn't exactly painful but made you want it to be.

Grant must have had the same train of thought. He was leaned back against the seat, his head purposely lolled to the side as he pretended to snore. I bit back a laugh but felt a small smile appear on my face.

A strangled laugh bubbled out on the other side of me and I saw Jonas hunched over slightly, holding his sides with his shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter.

"Behave yourselves!" a voice hissed. Grant and I sat up and turned our gazes to the podium and our principal while Jonas was nodding like a bobble head at the teacher that shushed us. He was doing it so much that I half expected his head to fall off his shoulders.

"…so both the Blackthorne and Gallagher faculty have agreed for another exchange." My attention snapped to the rotund man standing there with his optimistic smile.

"There will be a delegation of fifteen Blackthorne students for each grade at Gallagher Academy and vice versa. To the chosen students, please prepare your bags. You will be leaving tonight at exactly 6:30. I am sad to say that I will not be attending this exchange, but those of our trusted staff will be chaperoning."

Trusted staff. The image of Sebastian Watkins flashed in my mind; the malicious Technology Education professor that attacked us. Ioseph Cavan, founder of the Circle of Cavan. They were the ones that invaded the exam that night at Gallagher Academy. Watkins was part of it.

Exam night ultimately led me to think of the book. Why the hell was it there? I hadn't read it at all during the summer—I never had a chance to. It had a lock on it; picking at it didn't lead me anywhere. But that wasn't what made me think it was strange.

There was an inscription in the maroon leather—something that I could only assume were hieroglyphics. Hieroglyphics that refused to be interpreted—no matter how many things Advanced Cryptography had taught us. Beside the book, just the name Cavan was enough information to pull up dozens of Covert Operations Reports.

Hacking into the system took longer than expected, but it was well worth it. A complete article was hidden behind the firewalls of the Blackthorne Database. It was an organization built off of double agents that was hundreds of years old; according to the article. Meaning it survived hundreds of years of CIA and other organizations hunting after them. The goal of the terrorist group was assumed to be money and power; as are other groups. But that didn't explain what I wanted to know most.

Why were they after Cammie?

I wasn't blind to it, even through the chaos it was still obvious that they were circulating around her. A hand dragged me out of my thinking for a moment.

"Zach, we've got to pack. The lecture's over." I followed the hand to its owner's face. Jonas.

"Yeah man, we can't keep the Gallagher Girls waiting, can we?" Grant's ridiculous grin broke me out of revere and I smirked, the thoughts of Cavan fading to the back of my mind before the question that bothered me the most could reappear.

Were they the ones who killed my parents?

"Look out Gallagher Academy, here we come!"

A scoff. "Say that again, and your chances with Bex are as good as gone."

The Pros and Cons about Riding a Helicopter with My Junior Class

(A list made by Zachary Goode)

PRO: With the NSA approved blindfolds on, it's perfect for a nice, long nap.

CON: Mario Rodriguez and Cole Jacobson snore. A lot.

PRO: There was a bathroom when someone needed to do go.

CON: The students had freaking blindfolds on, exactly how do you aim for the urinal?

PRO: The helicopter was very bulletproof, which put many of the guys at ease.

CON: Solomon, whom was riding the same helicopter, immediately lectured people who slacked off (Mario and Cole didn't get their beauty sleep after all).

PRO: You know when you finally take off that stupid blindfold; you'll be greeted by a certain Gallagher Girl.

CON: When you step off the helicopter and look for said Gallagher Girl, you're disappointed you don't see her.

I've always noticed that I could get a girl's attention. Always.

Jonas told me it was probably because there was something on my face, or in my teeth and not to get cocky about it because it got annoying ("Now why would I ever get cocky about that?" I asked. Jonas rolled his eyes, "You're doing it again." "Doing what? Smirking?" "That and being a pompous jackass.").

Grant told me it was because I had such good looking friends with me ("Trust me, man. That brunette that's looking over here is all thanks to me." "Whatever you say, Grant." "It is!").

I remember my dad once saying it was because I was a Goode and we always get the women ("The ladies can't resist us, Zach. Remember that." "If I remember correctly, I resisted you. You stopped being a womanizer to date me, and even then I didn't date you!" "You're wearing a ring now—OW!" "You begged me, remember?" "Ah, Sarah, not in from the boy, he looks up to me!").

So I was surprised when I stepped into the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women that not one girl looked at me. Wait, that's not right. They looked at me. But then quickly turned away.

"Huh, maybe you do have something on your face this time." Jonas said as yet another Gallagher Girl, I think it was Kim Lee, detoured herself away from us. "I wonder what's up."

"Yeah, and did you guys notice that Buckingham made that welcome speech instead of Cammie's mom? The headmistress is supposed to do that, right?" Grant asked, as if commenting on the weather.

"I think everyone noticed that." I spoke as Jonas nodded in agreement.

Headmistress Rachel Morgan; young brunette with blue-green eyes and, from what half our class said, the hottest principal ever.

Professor Patricia Buckingham; oldest faculty member with gray hair and blue eyes and, according to Tim, looked like his uptight grandmother. There was a definite contrast between the two.

"We'll get the answers soon enough." Jonas said simply, glancing over Grant's shoulder.

"How do you know that?" Grant questioned tugging on his suitcase.

The R&D student lifted his finger and pointed past Grant and I. "From them."

I suddenly had a feeling that four Gallagher Girls were behind me. And shockingly, I was wrong. I only saw three.

"So you guys came." When I first realized that the Junior Gallagher Girls were avoiding me like the plague, I automatically thought the first girl that would actually look me in the eyes would be Cammie. I suppose I was close; the first person was her British roommate.

"What? Not happy to see us, Baxter?" I asked.

"Not all of you. Some of you I tolerate." Grant grinned at her while the British girl mirrored him.

"Hey Jonas, have you been working on that GVM model?" a curious, southern accent asked. I saw Jonas immediately perk up, not that I was surprised. The process was predictable; they started out shy and then went to amiably talking about our curriculum.

"I guess you're stuck with me," McHenry said, her bored eyes narrowing. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not exactly thrilled to be stuck talking with you either. But our roommates,"—she gestured toward the two chattering couples—"aren't really going to pay us much attention at this point."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she was right. "Whatever, where's Gallagher Girl? Is she in one of her secret passageways again?" I glanced around the foyer, recalling the brick pattern I had to push to get in.

Around the time I spotted the right section of the wall, I noticed it was uncharacteristically quiet. Bex wasn't flipping her shiny black hair anymore and Liz wasn't rambling about protons and neutrons anymore. Even Macey grew quiet and still. My mind raced to Cammie.

"Where's Cammie, Macey?" I repeated a bit more urgently. She crossed her arms and looked away, unresponsive. I spun on my heel to Bex, seeing her back as straight as a ramrod. "Where is she?"

Bex let an almost inaudible sigh and crossed her arms stubbornly just as Macey did. "Zach, that is confidential info—" but I didn't let her finish.

"Just answer the goddamn question. Where is she?" I demanded. Bex glared at me, but said nothing. My eyes went to Grant, his face full of confusion and he looked back helplessly.

I heard a soft whimper and turned my gaze to Liz. Her skinny arms hugged her fragile looking form with her head ducked down, her long blond hair covering her face. Concerned, Jonas put his hands onto her shoulders as they began to shake.

"Liz," at my tone, both Gallagher Girls pinned a fiery glare at me as Jonas gave me a disapproving shake of his head. I tried again. "Liz, where is Cammie?"

A tired sigh. If it was from my roommates, Bex or Macey, I didn't know. I was still looking at the trembling figure of Liz Sutton. "Let's take this someplace more private."

My eyes took that moment to realize that we caught some unwanted attention from curious freshmen. I nodded curtly, heading towards the closest room, my heart hammering ferociously in my chest, the pulsing in my ears drowning out any other sound. Where was she?

Someone shut the door and the minute the click of the doorknob sounded, Liz let a strangled sob out. I twisted back around to see that fresh tear tracks trailed down her flushed cheeks.

"Cammie—she's,"—she sniffled—"We don't know what happened, she just…disappeared." Her Southern accented voice cracked.

More tears ran down her face as she leaned back against Jonas, his arms circling her tiny waist. I stood there, my feet rooted to the ground beneath me. I slowly felt my limps become numb. Then Liz whispered the one thing I wished wasn't true.

"She's gone, Zach. Cammie's gone."

"When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too." –When You're Gone—Avril Lavigne

(Author's Note) – Yeah, that was pretty clichéd at the end there, wasn't it? And Liz was OOC, my explanation for that: Yes, she's a Gallagher Girl and she's strong and they don't cry, but Cammie was extremely close to her (as you all know), I just figured, if someone was going to show tears it was going to be Liz (NOT bagging on Liz, just thought it fit her character). Besides…this info of Cam being gone is pretty fresh for her. Give her time.

Ummm…besides the OOC-ness and Clichéd-ness, how was it? Good? Bad? Marry it or Bury it? Tell me in a REVIEW please (:

Also: KEEP or DELETE? Because I don't think I'll be continuing if no one's interested…

So review if you'd like this story to stay up (: Please? First 5 reviewers get a sneak peek? Thanks for reading! :)

~diva~

P.S. I've become a BETA. If you would like me to beta a story of yours please, say so in your review and/or PM and we'll talk. (: