~I Think I Love Him~Chapter 1~
As I walked through the halls of my new school, with Macey at my side, I didn't listen.
I didn't think.
I didn't talk.
I just went through the motions.
To please people (*cough, cough* Mom).
I didn't want to be here.
On this earth.
In this high school.
Why me?
I hated this school.
I hated these people.
I hated this life.
I only had my friends.
Bex, Macey, Liz.
But, Liz and Bex were still at Gallagher.
Training.
After Zach had . . . left . . . I was broken.
And during spring break, too.
Total suckfest.
And I just couldn't stand it anymore.
We were in town.
And everything was going great.
Or I guess . . . at least I thought it was.
He just dumped me.
All of a sudden, he said we were done.
My mind flashed to the unforgettable day in town.
Hand in hand, sunlight danced off his skin and I beamed as he leaned in to kiss me.
I never thought that'd be our last kiss.
But, as if remembering a disturbing thought, he pulled back, aghast.
"We need to talk," he said—his voice flat and even.
"Yeah, Blackthorne Boy?" I questioned cockily—completely naïve.
"It's over,"
And then my heart shattered into a million pieces, and I searched for unspeakable words as he turned to walk away.
"Wait," I whispered, and he turned to look, his harsh glare meeting with mine, "Did you ever love me?" I whispered bluntly.
"No," he stated sharply, as I saw the love of my life, turn and walk, leaving me alone in the sunlight, which still beamed brightly; completely unaffected as the tears of strangled cries broke from my chest.
And I had never felt the same again.
So my mom decided I needed a break.
She said it would be best if I just . . . relaxed a while . . .
. . . From Gallagher . . .
. . . From spy hood . . .
. . . From Zach . . .
It hurt to think about him.
About how we used to be.
About how we never would be.
My eyes started filling up with tears. I quickly wiped them away, but Macey noticed.
"Don't worry Cam. I'm here for you."
I nodded, a few tears running down my cheeks.
Since Macey was . . . well, newer to spy hood, I asked if she could come with me.
I just couldn't take a brand new high school alone, Senior year.
And . . . Macey had experience with this kind of stuff.
She was one of my best friends.
With Macey by my side, I thought I could take it.
Take life.
Take boys.
Take anything.
She wiped the tears off my cheeks as we walked through the doors for class.
"I miss Cam. I miss Macey," Liz groaned, Bex to her side as they strolled through the halls of the Gallagher Academy.
It was a bright Saturday morning—just the kind of day that would be spent sun-bathing near the pond, running through the halls, and sparring for extra credit with Mace and Cammie.
But, not today. They were away.
Bex sighed and continued to comfort Liz, "It's alright, Blondie," she amended, "They'll be home soon enough."
"I just can't believe Zach would do that!" the small blond practically shouted, "they were supposed to be soul mates, for crying out loud!"
"It just wasn't healthy for her, Liz! Gallagher reminded her too much of him! Too much of how she loved him . . . and how he left her . . ."
"I still can't believe he would do that . . ." she trailed off, still exasperated.
"But do you blame him?" Bex questioned her eyes wide.
"Stupid CIA," Liz muttered, walking towards the library.
Calculus passed in a flash.
This stuff was easy.
I didn't even try.
And I had a 4.0 GPA.
I love being smart.
I didn't study for anything.
I didn't pay attention during any of my classes.
This place was a cake walk.
Me and Macey walked to lunch, sat down at our usual spot—right next to the trashcan.
I mean, hello!—we were supposed to blend!
I didn't eat anything.
I was seriously craving some crème brulee.
Life was so unfair.
Macey didn't eat anything either. She had turned back into the girl who only ate 800 calories a day. Yum. Yum.
But the food was seriously disgusting (and now I honestly know that was why Macey McHenry ate so little.)
We ate lunch in silence.
Finally, the end of lunch bell rang and we trudged our way to AP Chem.
Woohoo.
It wasn't that hard. It was actually pretty basic compared to the stuff I did before.
It was just . . . I didn't need to learn this . . . again.
I didn't want to learn this.
Again.
Not like I had a choice.
I drifted back to our first day here the new school.
We walked through the halls, earning countless stairs, glares, and sneers from the fellow student body.
Slowly finding our way to the main office, we got our new schedules.
And the torture began.
"I can't believe we're doing this," I muttered in between classes.
"Ew, what the hell is up with that chicks outfit? This isn't 1970."
"Cool it, Mace," I laughed back.
"I'm just saying, you can't mix plaid with that shade of yellow! Now that should be a federal law! God, I think I'm gonna puke."
And we laughed. And Macey continued in her attempts to distract.
To get through the day.
Through the hour.
Through the minute.
And surprisingly . . . it was working.
After Chem, we had P.E.
What a joy.
Compared to my other classes, this was actually the highlight of my day.
Of course, I kicked all their butts. (not literally, though, of course, because fighting wasn't encouraged during P.E. here as it was at Gallagher.)
But I still rocked at sports.
Macey would have been too, but she was just too worried about messing up her hair and/or makeup.
What a shame.
I think I was like one out of the six girls in our entire Senior Class that actually participated in P.E.
I didn't really care, it was their grade.
Today we played basketball.
I actually did okay.
We won.
The teacher blew the whistle, indicating the end of P.E, and we all walked into the locker room to change.
We then headed to English. (Or as I like to call it: the most pointless subject ever.)
I mean, I spoke English—and 14 other languages, but no one here, besides Macey, knew that.
The point: If you can speak the language, why should you have to know what a participle or adverb or gerund is?
Seriously. Who had the great idea of making us "learn" this?
It totally defeats the whole purpose of "Learning useful materials!"
But, whatever.
I was so bored.
The teacher finally finished his lecture—I didn't know his name. I didn't know anyone's name here (besides Macey!) and I had been here for like 4 months!
The bell rang—which pretty much meant everyone woke up and hurried out the door.
Macey pulled me up and we walked out the door—the last of our class.
Another day down, 139 to go.
We walked to our lockers—right next to another trashcan—and got out the books we needed, as we put some back.
We had to walk "home."
1. because we were in California
2. because we were staying in a hotel.
3. the bus didn't stop there
It was about four blocks away from the high school.
We couldn't get a car, just in case someone was tracking us.
But, we didn't have any covers. They said we didn't need them.
No one even thought twice about us—well except maybe Macey. She was one of the prettiest girls in the school—and if she wore her hair slightly different, nobody even recognized her as the senator's daughter—we were just two "normal" teenage girls.
Nobody knew our story.
And thank God for that. (They may have had a seizure for crying out loud!)
After walking for about 20 minutes (and 16 seconds) we finally got to the hotel.
We walked up the stairs to our room—you know, to get our daily exercise—and stuck our room key in the slot.
And when we opened the door . . .
You could probably guess who was sitting on the bed, waiting for us.
I didn't know what to feel then.
Scared . . . there was definitely something scary about the person waiting.
Happy . . . was this a good thing?
Shocked . . . definitely a matching adjective.
But instead of just one, I got to experience all three at once, which just ended up making me feel . . .
Broken.
A/N: whatcha think?
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