Zach's P.O.V.
"Think they'll show?" Grant asked, shooting a ball into the corner pocket.
"They will. Which one do we want to start with?" Jonas asked, on his knees beside the DVD player.
"Mission Impossible!" Jake called from the kitchenette in the corner where he was popping popcorn, "I love watching the old gadgets civilians still think are current."
"Personally, I prefer Bourne Identity, even more outdated stuff." I turned and saw the Bex, Liz and Macey in the doorway. It was Bex who had spoken.
"Where's Cammie?" Jonas asked.
"She'll be joining us later,maybe," Macey collapsed on the couch. "Apparently, the games are on..."
Cammie's P.O.V.
"You could've at least let me change. Or picked a day when it wasn't pouring?" I demanded of the Blackthorne P & E coach, Mr. Bruce, a tall, fat blonde man.
"Most of the time out in the field a spy doesn't get a chance to change or the luxury of a sunny day. Understand?" I nodded, shivering in the rain, "Cameron Morgan meet Stephan Moore. You two will be racing in the sense of who can do the most laps the fastest. Follow me and we shall walk the course." We did so. The lap was almost five miles, 4.66 to be exact, "Mr. Moore, get started." We watched as Moore rounded the corner. "Go."
Wind. Rain. Turns. I could barely see. I just kept going. The rain kept coming, cold and hard. There came a point where all pain disappeared and the only way to keep warm was to go harder. Go faster. I registered passing Mr. Bruce several times. Over two hours had passed before I passed Mr. Bruce for the eighth time. I heard him call something out, but I couldn't make it out. I assumed he was demanding more, saying I was weak, so I forged ahead and quickened my pace. When I passed him the second time, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to a stop.
"Cammie, you need to finish!" He yelled.
"I'm trying to, you won't let me!" I yelled back, trying to pull away.
"No! You need to stop! You ran 40 miles in 2 hours! That's unheard of. We need to get you inside."
Zach's P.O.V.
I had been out of the common room, going to get soda from the kitchen when I heard the yelling.
"Where is your infirmary?" A voice came from around the corner.
We didn't have one. "We don't have one. Our boys either walk it off or we send them to a hospital." Coach Bruce?
I turned the corner. It took me a full ten seconds to register what I was seeing. Normally, that was a long time, then again, I was off my game. Headmistress Morgan came first, but I barely recognized her. She was standing just outside the faculty dorm she had been assigned. Her hair was in a ponytail, dressed in pajama pants and a tanktop. She wore no make up and for once, she actually looked older than mid-twenties. Next came Coach, soaked from head to toe in his regular gym cloths. "She's going to freeze." That's when I saw her. Cammie in Coach's arms. Her lips were blue. She was soaking wet.
"Cammie!" I yelled rushing towards them, "Ms. Morgan, what can I do?"
"Zach!" She eyed me, "Give me your sweatshirt." I ripped it off, "Give me my daughter and get out of here." Coach leaned Cammie up against Headmistress Morgan and scurried off. He always did remind me of a rat. "Help me get her inside." I picked Cammie up and followed the headmistress inside her dorm. She pulled the couch out, turning it into a pull out bed, "Get her on the couch." I placed her down. "Go into the closet, there are blankets." When I returned, Cammie's wet cloths were on the ground and she was wrapped only in my sweatshirt. "Hand 'em over." I gave her the blankets and helped her get Cammie into the blankets.
"Here, put this on. Wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea." Ms. Cameron handed me a sweatshirt. It was old and worn but it fit. "Do you want some hot chocolate? I found it in the kitchen earlier, staff said it would never be used."
"That would be great, thanks Headmistress Morgan."
She set the pot of water on the burner to boil before turning to me and saying, "For tonight only Zach, you can call me Rachel. Tonight only." She looked me in the eye.
"Headmis- Rachel, you do know who my mother is, right?" She was one of the few adults in spy life who didn't look at me like I was a rogue.
"I do know, Zach." She nodded, checking the water.
"Then why do you, why do you care?" I whispered.
"That sweatshirt you're wearing, it was Matthew's, Cammie's dad. He went to Blackthorne. So did Joe. They were best friends. One accepted the circle's offer, the other didn't. In the end, both ended up saving lives. No matter who your mother is, you aren't her. Plus, I knew here. She was two years above Abbie, a year below me. She was always a sweet girl. It wasn't until she reached her junior year that she started to change." We lapsed back into silence.
I ended up sitting on one of the dinner chairs while Rachel sat beside her daughter, stroking her hair. "She set a record. 40 miles in 2 hours. 3 minute average." She smiled down at her daughter. "When she was seven, she loved to show us how she was just like Aunt Abbie, I wasn't an active agent at the time, I had decided to raise her, anyway, she showed us how she could run. She went around and around the farm Matthew's parents owned. She just kept going until she had to stop, she could hardly breath. Ten minutes later she started again, said she had to get better, said she had to be better." Silence again.
She yawned, "Zach, I'm going to bed."
"Oh, I'll head out, let me know-"
"I was going to ask if you could keep an eye on Cam." She smirked, What is with these Morgan women and stealing my smirk?
"If it's ok with you..." Was she asking me to spend the night with Cammie?
"Just behave." She gave me the look. The look that said touch her and die. She went into the separate bedroom, leaving me alone with Cammie.
