Chapter 9: old version
(um, chapter 8 is still the old version, but I changed a sentence or 2 a while ago, so I'm too lazy to go back and copy/paste... but that one hasn't been updated yet)
And I still don't own Gallagher Girls.
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My brain was too awake and too occupied to go to sleep. Grant and Jonas had fallen asleep, but I couldn't shut off my thoughts. I ran a hand through my dark hair. Did my dad have dark hair? I stood up, careful not to make the floorboards creak. I stretched and glanced into the mirror, sick of overthinking. Cammie brought up my parents, and now my dad filled almost every single one of my thoughts. I tried so damn hard to put a face on that figure in my memories. My green eyes came from my mother, which I knew for sure. I was certain that none of my other features came from her. What would he look like now? Would I look like him? I paced the floor, forgetting about my roommates.
Grant's head lifted from his pillow, "Mmhmmn." I froze. His head went back down and the snores continued. After Grant had returned to his slumber, I crept to the door, careful not to wake either of them again. Only after I closed our door, did I realize I was clad only in sweats, a t-shirt, and socks. And it was cold.
I decided to take a walk through the school, dressed appropriately or not. Shuffling my feet on the tile, my thoughts went back to Cammie. It was welcomed break from thinking of my dad. Cammie. Why was she always so pleasantly plaguing my thoughts? I should've been mad at her. She started a rumor, played with my feelings, and was spying on me. Why did I always find myself thinking of her? Maybe it was because she did ask me on a date, laughed at my jokes, and knew what I'd been through. Her dad. My dad.
I hadn't noticed where I'd walked to. I ended up in a side hallway, among the portraits of past Gallagher headmistresses. The last photo on the wall was Cammie's mom.
The resemblance was striking. I could easily see the cheekbones, the shape of their faces, and the tilt of their heads, as if they were amused at something. From looking at Cammie and her mom, I couldn't fathom what her dad could've looked like. I focused on the portrait, trying to piece together the other half of Cammie's family. Cammie had a playful grin, while her mother's was sophisticated. Cammie's smile. Did she get that from her dad? Her mother also lacked Cammie's dimples. I suppose that if I looked close enough, I could find traits her mom and Cammie didn't share.
And at that moment, I realized that I'd been paying way too much attention to Cammie.
One last glance down the wall of portraits, and I noticed the fireplace. And, more importantly, I noticed the noises coming from the fireplace. Soft thuds, almost inaudible. But it was entirely too loud for the absolute silence of the school corridor. I leaned closer, waiting for the monster to pop out. Then I realized that the noises were footsteps.
I stepped back, just as a foot landed on the hearth. Cammie. She was way better than any monster.
"So the tour is closed, huh?" She shot up, clearly not suspecting me. Her head slammed on the mantle. She winced.
"Ow! What are you doing here?" I shouldn't have surprised her. She was holding the back of her head, staring at me as if I had something wrong going on inside my head.
Guilty that I caused her to get hurt, I held my hand out, "Come on." I gently took hold of her arm and drew her close to my chest. I ran a hand through her hair, looking for the bump she was sure to have in the morning. She tried to pull out of my embrace, but I held tight. I wasn't going to let her go so fast. "You'll live." I finally let her take a step back, missing her warmth immediately as she let go.
She was taken aback. "You're being nice." She watched me, like she was trying to decide if I was up to something. But she had earned my compassion. Cammie stayed quiet and didn't press me further when I was in a moment of weakness. Everything she had done previously was forgotten when Solomon pulled out the rings and Cammie had seen me so close to crumbling.
I sighed. "Don't tell anyone." I held my arms over my chest, restraining from shivering. My shirt wasn't providing much warmth and the cool tiles were making my feet cold. Socks don't provide much insulation.
I finally registered that she came out of a fireplace. I thought of all the reasons on why she would be lurking during this time of night, and I instantly thought of the operation she was running. She was spying, as usual. "Did your bugs hear anything interesting?" She attempted to hide her disbelief. I slid my hands into my pockets, still feeling the lack of warmth. She was speechless. "What is it Gallagher Girl? No snappy comebacks? Nonexistent cat named Suzie got your tongue?"
"How do you know about Suzie?"
"Spy." The moonlight shone in the hallway, illuminating her face. Never before had she seemed so pretty, even in her ball gown. I found myself leaning closer and closer, until I was inches away. I could kiss her now. My hand reached up to her cheek, and brushed away a piece of hair.
I pulled away. My gaze fell to the ground, embarrassed and ashamed. Only a few minutes before, I had been thinking of how we had both lost our dads. My mother caused both of the tragic deaths. I had a legacy, and, regardless of my name, it was not a good one. My mother killed her father. My family ripped apart hers. She would never forgive me for that. I couldn't kiss her. If she knew about my mom, she wouldn't allow it to happen. Not in a million years.
I was mortified to know what my mother did. But I didn't even know how much Cammie knew of her father's death. How bad it really hurt. Sickened, I wanted to know how my mother murdered Cammie's dad, if she had any information, or even if she'd tell me. "Why don't you ask me about it? About them?" I let my eyes rise from my feet. "I'll tell you mine if you'll tell me yours." I might actually get to talk about my dad; I'd never talked about him out loud before. Even thinking of talking about him threatened to shatter my tough-guy front.
I forced myself to breathe. All the emotions I'd kept pent up since my father's death eight years ago were threatening to spill over. Cammie's eyes locked with mine, but I went back to examining my socks. Her hand came out to touch my arm, but she pulled back before she could try and comfort me.
Whispering, she said, "It was a mission. Four years ago, my dad went on a mission. He didn't come home. Nobody knows what…happened." Her voice cracked.
She didn't know anything. I knew more about her dad's final days than she did. "Somebody knows." I didn't mean to, but I had just given her false hope, as if I could possibly tell her anything about her dad. I had never felt as guilty as I did then. I couldn't tell her what she wanted to know most.
"What? What are you saying?"
"I'm saying somebody knows." I strengthened my voice, but remaining gentle. I didn't yell, didn't snap, but she needed to know this. "I'm saying you shouldn't act like there aren't any answers just because you haven't taken the time to look for them." I hadn't investigated farther than knowing my mother was the reason my dad died, and I regretted it every day. I was only eight then. But as I grew older, I should've pursued why he upset the Circle. Why he was dead.
"What am I supposed to do, Zach. I'm just-" Just a girl who was raised to hide, to blend in, to learn? A girl who was trained to tail and track and follow? To find out the truth, to be for the greater good? A spy? But she wouldn't voice any of that. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Just a girl?" I let out the breath I was holding. I shrugged, trying to put up my broken-down walls. "I thought you were a Gallagher Girl." All of a sudden I felt my anger at myself, at my mother, at my dad, bubble up. I turned around, leaving her alone in the hall. I walked through the school blinded by my emotions, until I found an abandoned classroom. I shut the door behind me and sank to the ground. I pulled on my hair, willing myself not to cry. My mother couldn't look past her duty to her terrorist group, even if it meant killing her husband. My dad had been fooled by my mom. He didn't fight back. I hadn't given a second thought to my dad's death. I hadn't been able to avoid the age-old radical group. I was trying to pry apart Cammie and trick her into telling me her secrets. I was falling for a girl who I could never be with. I couldn't stay strong, not then. Forgetting the cold and drowning myself in my feelings, I fell asleep against the door.
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Yeah. this was originally "the best thing I've ever written" but not anymore... anything more recent than this is better...
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