My mind is a warrior,

My heart is a foreigner,

My eyes are the colour of red like a sunset,

(Grade 8 by Ed Sheeran)

They say his name is Zachary Goode. That green eyed boy from the night before.

Back in our room, CIA files claim he is the closest descendant of Catherine Goode, they say he was born July 17th, they say he his one of the best. Liz studies the files, Macey stares at his face, while Bex cracks her knuckles. I pace around, like a general on the field, plotting my next move.

He's good.

But not good enough. Because he has left his mark on the world. A good spy treads lightly.

Tracing footsteps is my speciality.

I remember his smirking face. My anger sparks like a forest fire. Soon the blaze is raging. I channel all my hurt, loneliness, sadness, anger and frustration into the fire and watch as it grows into a flaming wall around my heart, protecting me. I move on, push away my anger. I'm good at moving forward. New starts.

Lessons begin at our new home. P&E. Bex races to our room and drags me down to the gym in excitement, prepared to kick-ass. Coach yells: Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, 5 mile warm-up jog.

We hit the floor. 100 pushups, 100 sit-ups. Six packs showing. 100 pull ups arm muscles quivering. 4 minute miles, heavy panting.

Girls beat boys. Boys get angry. Pre-school all over again.

Fighting time. Boys smirk. Girls grin.

We fight. Coach pairs up fighters. Girls v. Girls. Boys v. Boys. The coach appraises the Gallager girls with renewed respect. At least one person seems to have the right idea around here. His grin should have warned the Blackthorn Boys, all too busy grunting like primates to notice than maniacal smiles appearing on the face of each girl. New pairs, a tournament of the sexes.

Joe slips into the gym so quietly only I register his presence. He stands in the background, watching and waiting. His eyes follow my movements, pride in his eyes. I focus in on the present. I've determined Joe means me no harm.

The fight ensues. Block, parry, dodge, swing,kick, flip.

Finally a use for such long beautiful legs. I dispatch 2 boys with a kick to the head.

Finally a use for such long silky hair. It fans about and catches in the eyes of a Blackthorn boy who got to close.

Finally a use for a small body. I flip and spin gracefully, the years of ballet intermixing into the thrill of the fight.

Perhaps such a body is meant for the field. Blackthorn boys disagree. Their catcalls suggest I'm better used in bed.

For those boys, I prepare a special surprise.

The Blackthorn boys have no qualms about attacking girls. In fact, their strength and size presents a challenge. Challenge accepted.

The fighting's done. The scores calculated.

Macey, Bex, Cammie: champions.

Blackthorn boys: angry

We watch our backs for the rest of the day. A surprise dagger in the gut never goes amiss in a school full of killers.

Boy stare, we ignore.

Zachary takes defeat poorly. He sulks for the rest of the day, as the other Blackthorn boys ask how he lost to a bunch of sissy girls. He punches their faces, and they leave him alone.

I smirk as I see his outburst. Joe notes my smirk and sends me an approving glance. I'm starting to like him more and more. He at least understand girls too can aspire to greatness.

Never underestimate a Gallagher girl.

Back in our room, we laugh together, replaying the day back in our minds. Lessons: cake, fighting: a dance, looks: all Macey approved.

Laughing, I fall back on my bed as Bex re-enacts a particularly amusing exchange between her and the boy Grant. Contentment washes through me like an exploded dam, crashing though my body. It shocks me, a new sensation. A good sensation, peaceful, relieving. I sit up, shot full of happiness. The girls look surprised as I spin around the floor dancing like a drunk, and singing in my clear, beautiful voice. It's been ages since I've been happy. Their looks of surprise and amusement only raise me higher, seeking the peak of my happiness high. Their smiles reach their eyes as I spin and tumble to the floor, laughing.

Once I start, I can't stop. Laughing is the therapy no money can buy, and one that eludes most attempts to find it. Once tears are streaming down my face, my problems seem as distant as the milky way.

I fall back to bed and the nightmares can't hurt me tonight.

My mind is a warrior,

My heart is a foreigner,

My eyes are the colour of red like a sunset

Thank you to the few reviews which I have. They are all really nice and inspire me to write more! Sorry my chapters are so short. It just never works when I try to write really long chapters.

Improving is only going to happen if you tell me what I'm doing wrong. Just think of the most annoying thing about my writing, then tell me. I swear, the more mean, the better cuz then I can actually improve!

Any cool weekend plans? Have fun!

PS, I broke 900 words this chapter. Be proud

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