Hey everyone! This is my very first FanFiction and so I hope you like it! But don't hate me if it's bad! I promise that as I further enhance my writing skills the stories WILL get better! (Oh and reviews to know what you guys want!) I love writing and such! And so I'm going to let you guys read this now! Oh and BY THE WAY, this has NOTHING to do with spies! It's just normal teenagers! Promise!

Thanks,

Jo!

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Whoever invented alarm clocks better hope I don't meet him. Ever. I slammed my palm down on the top of the alarm clock but the beeping would not shut up! I tried to find it but only succeeded in knocking it off of my bed-side table. I could already tell this was going to be a long day.

I, Cameron Ann Morgan, hate mornings. I hate morning because it means that 1.) if I am actually waking up during the "AM" hours, I have school, 2.) it takes me away from my beauty sleep (even though if I slept for 1000 years I still couldn't be compared to Macey McHenry), and 3.) the dreaded alarm clock.

I reached for my phone and whined when the screen turned on. It took me a little bit to get adjusted to the sudden light.

YOU HAVE (1) NEW MESSAGE FROM : Bex! Oh great. 7am texts from Bex is not a good thing. They usually tell me to get my butt up and get ready or they tell me what I will be wearing that day. This one was both. I didn't bother texting her. I just taped a sign to my window that read "I'M AWAKE!". Bex is my life-long best friend and next door neighbor. We tape these signs to our windows because sometimes we are both too lazy to text.

I trudged into my bathroom and stared into the mirror for a while. I looked like I just rose from the dead. My hair was sticking out at odd angles, my eyes had dark circles under them, and my eyes seemed to droop a little. I washed my face with my Morning Burst® Clean and Clear, and then threw my hair into a messy bun. I knew that if Bex saw that she would tie me to a chair and torture me with straighteners and eye pencils. I am not over-exaggerating.

I picked out the outfit Bex told me to wear. A pair of deep purple leggings, a grey dress-shirt that came mid-thigh, a black belt that went mid-torso, and a pair of black flat-heel boots that came to my knees. I grabbed my messenger-style backpack and ran down the stairs. I ran into the kitchen to find my mom reading the paper with her gorgeous Gucci boots and long legs propped on the table.

"Good morning, Kiddo. How'd you sleep?" she asked, not even glancing up from her paper. Sometimes I think my mom is a spy or something, the way she never even has to look at me to know I'm there.

"Good, until that da- danged alarm clock went off." She looked up from her paper to glare at my almost slip-up. I threw my hands up in defense and grabbed a banana. She smiled and sort-of laughed at me. Then the doorbell rang.

I ran to the door with a mouthful of banana and I didn't even look to see who it was. When I opened the door I saw my best friend standing their with her makeup bag and curling iron in tow. Oh no. I looked around for a quick escape, but she saw what I was doing and grabbed me by the wrist. Before I could react I was being dragged up the stairs. Once again, NOT over-exaggerating.

After two straightener burns, one stab in the eye with the mascara brush, and a brutal attack with the eye pencil Bex approved of my looks and said that I could be seen out in public today. We were almost late so we ran out the door shouting goodbyes to my mom as we left.

When we got into the car we passed the used-to-be-vacant house three doors down from Bex's house. It looked like there was a teenager moving in because there was a basketball goal being unloaded from the truck. It could've just been a little girl's though.

Then mine and Bex's favorite song came on so we decided to roll the windows down and turn the music way up. We didn't care if we looked like fools, but we were singing at the top of our lungs.

"YOU. MAKE. ME. FEEL LIKE I'M LIVING A. TEEN. AGE. DREAM!" we sang (even though it probably sounded like a couple of drunk girls singing karaoke).

A few minutes later we pulled into the high school parking lot. I got out and grabbed my bag from the backseat of Bex's Ford Fiesta. I stepped out of the car and noticed that the parking lot was oddly vacant. Usually there are kids making out, fixing their makeup, doing last-minute studying, eating their breakf- well, you get the idea.

I looked over at Bex. She was acting kind of weird this morning, but I just shrugged it off as PMS or something. After Bex made me check the mirror one more time and fix a fly-away I was ready to go inside. As soon as I pushed through the double doors, I stepped backwards, gasping.