Here's an extra long chapter! And please review, because it would make me so very happy!

Bex's POV

"Class dismissed," I declared, and my class of girls stopped what they were doing and began walking towards the changing rooms, no doubt talking about how mean I had been.

I knew I had probably trained them twice as hard in this lesson than their usual training with Ms Hancock, but this morning I really wasn't in the mood to teach. I was torn between grief, distress and anger. Grant, Zach and Nick had emailed me earlier to say that they weren't getting anywhere. Jonas was at home, grieving, because the hospital had phoned him up to say that Arianne was doing fine, but Liz probably wasn't going to pull through. She was constantly on my mind. Our Liz, the one I had known since childhood, might not wake to see her daughter or her husband or her best friends ever again.

Bad news followed. The plane that Cammie had apparently taken from Sydney seemed to have landed in the middle of nowhere on some sort of plain or field. The plane then disappeared. It was just… gone. Grant, Zach, and Nick visited the location but found nothing, not even a trace of the plane being there. They still didn't know who the girl was either.

I couldn't help but feel like for the past four days I'd been at Gallagher, I'd been wasting precious time. I could have been with them, supporting them and helping out, but instead I was teaching.

I headed towards the hall for lunch. The initial shock of us being here had sort of worn off and now it was okay to eat without too many stares. Macey was already there, tucking into her food happily. I took up my usual place next to her and instantly started complaining about how useless I felt; I knew full well that I probably looked like a little kid whining about his melting ice cream.

Three people burst into the hall and immediately everyone's eyes swivelled to face them. I noticed some girls' jaws dropping and even a bit of drooling. Yes, it was the boys – our boys. Grant, Zach, Nick and Jonas were in the house.

Before anyone even knew what was happening, Rachel was up and greeting them. Although it was a few seconds later, Macey and I followed. I couldn't believe it. They were here? Why?

"What's your business here?" she asked civilly, though I could sense that it hurt Rachel so much to talk to the main cause of her daughter's disappearance. "Is it some sort of CIA business, or are you here of your own accord?"

"Both," Zach answered, and I saw that he was equally uncomfortable when his hand twitched. "It started off as some random searching but then… someone..." he glanced at Jonas anxiously, whose face was blank and unreadable, "got shot. The director decided to classify it as an official mission now."

"Oh," Rachel said quietly, "you're talking about that mission. So why are you here and not in New York?"

"We were wondering whether we could stay here," Jonas said, surprising all of us. He had seemed so silent until this point that some of the girls hadn't noticed him at all. "Bex and Macey are part of the mission too and it would be more successful if they were helping."

"Of course you can stay," Rachel cracked into a distant smile, as though she was imagining a world with her daughter in it. "Please feel free to do whatever you want here. You can use all the facilities we have to offer…" she hesitated, before saying, "well, that is, you can use them on one condition…"

"Anything," Nick gestured for Rachel to continue.

She said, "You have to help out Bex and Macey with their lessons too. Seeing as they haven't had much teaching experience, they might benefit from your help, especially when demonstrating things that involve other people."

She stared at me pointedly and I shrunk away under her sharp gaze, knowing full well what she was referring to. Earlier this morning, I had lost my temper when a girl was fooling around and refused to quieten down when I asked her to. I called her up to the front for a 'demonstration' and punched her in the face. Apparently, when you teach a punch, you aren't supposed to demonstrate on students, or at least not with your full power.

"Of course," Zach said graciously, and I realised that he actually could be polite if he wanted to. Madame Dabney must have rubbed off on him after all. "We would be delighted to help Miss McHenry and Mrs Newman."

"Don't call me that," I growled at him. "I'm Ms Baxter, remember?"

"You don't like my surname? Why did I ever get married? Why do I even bother with life?" Grant gasped while he looked at me, clutching a hand over his heart dramatically and I rolled my eyes, even though I knew I was grinning like crazy. He ran over to where I stood and caught me in a bone-crushing embrace. He spoke into my hair, "I've missed you, Mrs Newman."

I pulled away after a few seconds, much to both of our discontents, but I was still smiling at him when I said softly, "Let's not make a scene, shall we?"

"Too late," Nick laughed at us and I realised that every girl in the room was staring at me with jealousy or resentment. Huh, I should have guessed that girl spies-in-training wouldn't forget about their girl side – the part that longed to have a boyfriend, even one with an over ten year age difference. We certainly didn't ignore that part of ourselves when Mr Solomon came walking through for the first time.

I flushed red with embarrassment. "Well, uh…"

Rachel saved me from humiliation when she filled in, "How about you introduce yourselves?"

"Sure," Grant said, stepping forward to take the lead. He addressed the crowd. "I'm Grant Newman. Maybe if you were here at age five you would still remember that glorious day when the Blackthorne boys came here to brighten everyone's lives." [A/N I know Gallagher starts in seventh grade, but let's just imagine it starts at four.]

Everyone looked excited at hearing about Gallagher's sister school. They all knew about the exchange and how it went. I bet some of the girls spent their time daydreaming about what life would have been like for our year, the lucky students who did the exchange programme.

"I'm Nick," Nick introduced himself. "I wasn't in Blackthorne, but I was a Corporal in the marines… then a Sergeant Major in the army… then a Lieutenant in the Navy… and a Captain in the Air Force…"

"Alright, that's enough with the boasting already!" Macey interrupted, rolling her eyes at him, while the rest of the school were staring at him in awe, probably wondering whether he was available or not.

"Yeah, I got kicked out of a lot of jobs for pranking people," he said finally, shooting Macey a glare. "Thankfully the CIA decided my pranks didn't really matter, because I had too much talent to just waste."

Macey muttered, "He's such a boastful pig."

Nick chose to ignore her as he concluded the commentary of his life story. "So, ladies, I would tell you to call me, but unfortunately, I'm not available."

"But you will be, if you keep flirting with other people," Macey said to him, seeming terribly amused.

The look of shock on his face was priceless, but even better were the aghast looks of the other girls when they realised two out of four of the guys were taken already.

Next up was Jonas, who seemed in his own world until we prompted him. He said finally, "Oh, I'm Jonas Anderson."

Then he sunk back into his depression once more. The pressure of his almost-dead wife was hitting all of us badly, but him the most and I didn't blame him for not concentrating on introductions. I heard one girl whisper to another that Jonas was hot, and that so far, he was the only person who hadn't claimed to be in a relationship. Her friend argued that Jonas looked far too sad to be cute and an observant girl next to them reminded them that he had a ring on his ring finger so he had to be married – he wasn't the type of person who wore rings for the sake of fashion.

Zach looked smug, but not as much as his usual with all this Cammie business. He looked slightly sad, which was a lot for him. Usually his mask of emotion was on and the only expression you could see was his arrogant look. "I'm Zachary Goode. It's nice to meet you. Oh, and I'm taken if anyone was wondering."

"No, you're not," Macey argued. "You're lying."

"I am!" he protested. "I am taken, remember?"

"Hmm… let me think…" Macey said sarcastically before showing her dazzling white teeth at him and said sweetly, "Nope, you definitely are not taken, Goode, and you know it too. You haven't dated in eleven years. You spend your Friday and Saturday nights alone! I bet you even remember how to – ugh, I can't say it in front of anyone. Rachel would probably kill me. That reminds me, guys. No swearing here. It's not allowed."

"Damn – I mean, dang – it!" Nick exclaimed, while Zach was just glad that the attention was off him and his non-dating ways. "How the hell – heavens, or whatever – am I supposed to not swear for three fucking – I mean, freaking – whole weeks?"

"It's almost two weeks left now," Rachel smiled, with an entertained expression.

Nick groaned. "That's two weeks in h – the burning pits where the bad bas – that is, people – go when they die."

Rachel looked slightly worried for the young kids' ears now and she quickly drew up four extra chairs next to ours for her guests, hoping to preoccupy them with food. We all sat back down and slowly, gradually, the attention of the girls turned back to their own food and conversations. When nobody was looking our way, I saw Nick pulling out a cigarette.

"No cigarettes," Macey and I said simultaneously and I held out his hand to take the lighter and the pack of cigarettes. Reluctantly, he dropped them into my hand.

"No drinking either," Macey smirked at him as he took out a bottle and he swore under his breath. She gestured for him to hand it over and then threw it onto the floor. It shattered into millions of glass pieces as the red liquid oozed out.

He swore at her again, this time openly loud. "Fuck you, Macey."

She laughed. "You know you love me really."

"Of course," Nick smirked at her and he leaned in to peck her on the cheek.

Morgan's POV

"So, do you want to come over to my house today?" Dillon asked, as I fished something out of my locker.

Luckily, his friends weren't around. They always looked at me with resentment. Dillon was the king of popularity in our year and fifteen out of twenty people in our class kept trying to get in his good books. It seemed me coming here and immediately becoming inseparable with him got me a lot of enemies. What took me five days took some of Dillon's friends five years. But thankfully, it also got me a lot of popularity, especially with those who Dillon wasn't best friends with.

"Sure," I shrugged, "why not?"

"Okay," he grinned at me. "Do you know how to cycle? There's this really awesome hideout and I have got to show you it."

"Does anyone else know about it?" I asked, curious about anything secretive. I didn't know why, but I kept having this urge to know everything about everyone. I loved that smug feeling I always got when I knew something someone else didn't.

"No," he smirked. "You're the first person I'm showing."

"Why?"

"What do you mean by 'why'?" he frowned at me in confusion.

I explained, "Why are you showing me?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "You're just the type of person who would like it. Anyone else would probably laugh that I have a secret hideout. It's the type of things girls have and I don't want to ruin my awesome reputation."

"Great," I grinned. This was an opportunity for more secrets. "I'll just call my mom in case I've got anything planned with her."

"Yeah, you go and do that," he waved his hand dismissively. "She'll probably let you come. According to what you've said, you're mom seems really nice."

"She is," I lied. Obviously I wouldn't tell him that my mom was a wanted assassin that nobody knew the name of. He nodded and then walked away, towards his other friends. I whipped out my phone and started dialling Mom's number.

"Hello?" her voice asked on the other side.

"Hey Mom," I said. "It's me. I just wanted to ask if I could go over to a friend's house afterschool."

"Is your friend a boy or a girl?" she answered my question immediately with a question.

I sighed and mentally rolled my eyes. "Mom, does it really matter?"

"Yes," she replied. "Now answer my question properly."

"He's a boy."

There was silence for a few moments before she said finally, "Then no."

"Aw, come on, Mom," I whined. "What's wrong with him being a guy?"

"There's nothing wrong with him being a guy… but you can't be with him alone."

"This is so unfair," I groaned. "It's not like he's going to kiss me."

"Yeah, but it is possible," Mom countered. "Morgan, what's his name?"

"It's Dillon," I said, "spelled D-I-L-L-O-N. He hates it when people spell it D-Y-L-A-N."

Mom sucked in a breath. "What's his surname?"

"Abrams," I said, wondering what the big problem was.

She gulped a little, before instructing clearly, "Morgan, you can'tgo over to his house."

"Why can't I?"

"You just… can't, M," she repeated.

"But-"

She hung up on me. Ugh! I was so annoyed with her right now! Why couldn't I go to my friend's house? It's not like he's going to rape me! It's my life and I could do what I wanted with it. She couldn't dictate my life out for me. I was going to go to Dillon's house and his secret hideout whether she like it or not.

The rest of the day flew by, insanely quickly. Nothing much happened during the day, apart from me telling Dillon that my mom was letting me go and the boring lessons. I wasn't really the geeky type of person, but due to Grandma's advanced extra lessons, I was ahead of everyone else and I spent my time doodling.

When the school bell finally rung signalling the end of the day, Dillon sauntered over to me. We walked through the parking lot. He grinned, "You ready?"

Oh no. There was Mom, standing outside our car and waiting for me. She knew me well, despite not being there much, so she knew I'd probably try to go to Dillon's house anyway.

"Yeah," I answered hastily, "but let's rush to get to your house because, uh… I really can't wait!"

"Alright," he agreed, smirking at my eagerness.

"Uh, let's go around here," I said taking a detour around the car park and dragging Dillon with me.

"But it would be quicker if we just cut across," he complained, confused.

"Yeah, well-"

Then Mom flicked her head towards my direction and we locked eyes, blue against green. I broke the contact almost straight away, but I knew it was already too late. She was running towards us as I yelled, "Ditch the detour and run!"

I sprinted towards the gates and Dillon was right by my side, being the most athletic in the class. We were far ahead of Mom, due to the many cars between us and her. Unfortunately, she had all that Circle training and was beginning to catch up.

"Why are we running?" Dillon shouted as we turned around the corner onto the road.

I panted back, "I lied! My mom doesn't want me to go to yours!"

"Why? Is it something I did?" he asked.

I tried to shrug, but while sprinting at full pelt, I didn't get very far with it. "It's nothing I know of. But when she heard your name, she got a bit freaked."

"What's her name?" he asked.

"It's Cammie Morgan," I replied instantly as we turned onto 'North Bellis Street'.

He looked surprised. "You don't share the same surname?"

"No…" I realised the flaw in my lie and promptly made something up. "I use my dad's even though my parents got a divorce. Anyway, do you know my mom?"

He racked his memory. "I've never heard of her."

"That's odd."

"Yeah it is," I agreed, risking a glance behind me. Mom was only a few houses away from us now. I filled Dillon in. "She's catching up!"

"Don't worry," he said and tugged my hand suddenly, pulling me in another direction. "We're here."

He went to the door and rang the bell, which was right next to two big gold plated numbers – 66 – the house number. Someone opened it – a woman, about Mom's age, with short blonde hair. She smiled warmly and I instantly categorised her as one of those people who you couldn't hate, even if you tried.

"Oh, here you are, Dillon!" she glanced at me, and then turned back to her son, her mouth crinkled into a grin. "And who's your friend?"

"This is Suzie," he introduced. "Suzie, this is my mom, Dee Dee."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Abrams," I said graciously with the most dazzling smile I could manage. I held my hand out for her to shake. She ignored it and pulled me into a hug instead, which I felt surprised at. I peeked over her shoulder at Dillon, who looked red with embarrassment at his mom.

When we finally broke apart, I noticed a figure waiting nervously behind a car, almost like she was hiding. I wondered what that was about. However, it wasn't me who spoke to her. It was Dee Dee.

"Cammie, is that you?" she gasped in surprise.