"Grant, go away," Bex said, tucking a strand of her dark brown hair behind my ear. She had spent the last two days tailing people that looked suspicious, or the people that Liz had found that could be related to the Cammie/Zach abduction, but each person led to a dead end. She was mentally exhausted, but physically tired as well, seeing as she had barely slept – her brain didn't want to stop thinking long enough to get any rest.

Grant sat down on the couch beside her, casually throwing his arm around Bex's shoulders. "Not until you tell me," he insisted.

Bex felt tears threatening to escape her eyes, and stubbornly held them in. She knew it was okay for her to be sad. Of course she knew it. But she didn't feel sad. Anger flooded through her veins – but this time, she wasn't upset with her best friend. She was fuming at herself for not being there to protect Cammie. And she didn't feel like hearing about it from anyone else. "Tell you what? To fuck off?"

Grant tilted his head and replied, "Not exactly what I was asking, no. Despite common beliefs, I'm not a complete idiot. I know when something's wrong. How are you?"

Bex pursed her lips. "I'm-" She stopped suddenly, glancing at Grant. "I just miss my best friend. Same as you." She lifted up her eyes to meet his.

"If it makes you feel better, Zach is probably the best spy I know. Cammie and Zach combined would be practically unstoppable." Bex nodded quickly, but didn't stop nervously biting her lip. "She's safe, Bex. If she's with Zach, she's safe."

It should've made her feel better, but it didn't. She still felt the hole of uneasiness in her stomach. She still was worried sick. She was still weak. But somewhere in that moment of weakness, she found the boldness to press her lips against Grant's before whispering, "Thank you," and quickly walked up the stairs.

BREAK

"ZachZachZachZachZach,"I whispered.

"Hmm?" he replied, half-awake.

Unlike Zach, I hadn't been able to sleep. Instead, I spent my night looking, searching, trying to find something that could help us out. And I had just found it.

"There's a something hidden. I think it's a passageway. Right here. Look, Zach!" A passageway could mean an exit. I was willing to risk it.

Zach ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. "Cammie, why would there be a passageway in an old factory?" In two quick strides, Zach was standing beside me.

I cocked a hip and tilted my head, one corner of my mouth lifting up. "Maybe it wasn't always a factory. I mean, they probably just renovated it to make it a factory. And then it shut down or whatever, and now it's a secret cult clubhouse. But think about what it was before…" I trailed off, my imagination going bonkers within my skull, just thinking about all the possibilities.

"Just… just open it. Let's see where it leads," he suggested, motioning to the small hole in the wall that my hand was lying centimeters from. I quickly poked it, and the boards split, pushing a touchpad out.

"Enter 4-digit code to be granted access," a robotic voice instructed.

I scoffed. "Only four digits. Liz would have laughed in this robot-whore's face."

Zach let out a short chuckle. "Why is the robot a whore?"

I shrugged. "It's easy. Get it? I bet that dumbass Jordan set it up…"

Zach took a step back. "I don't mind Jordan, actually, other than the fact that-"

"She's a dumbass?" I guessed.

"-is part of the UAW," Zach finished, ignoring me.

I blinked. "Which makes her a dumbass."

For some reason, I really detested Jordan. Like, I'm sure her being in the UAW was a huge part of it, but it was more, too. The way she walked annoyed me. The way she dressed made me want to gag. And how she talked pretty much gave me the urge to punch baby kittens.

Anyways, Zach ignored me again, which agitated me even more, and then suggested that we should probably wait until we figure out for sure what the code is so we don't set off an alarm or anything. I agreed, and pushed the touchpad back in place and closed the boards that kept it hidden from view.

"What time is it?" Zach asked, sitting on the edge of his bed (Jordan delivered them right before dinner) two nights before).

I guessed, "Probably four-ish." Normally, I would totally know exactly what time it was, but my brain had been concentrating on other things. Like how to escape from an abduction. (I came up with fourty-two ways in the few hours before finding the hole in the wall.) (All of which I thoroughly debunked in about 15 seconds.)

"I'm wide awake. Especially after finding that, I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep. My mind is too busy."

"I know what you mean," I replied, sitting down on my bed, which was opposite of his. My brain was an insistent toddler, refusing to go to sleep. After a brief pause, I finally sighed, "So, I've been thinking…"

"Everybody take cover!" he joked.

Like the mature young lady I was, I stuck my tongue out before going on, "I've been thinking about that kiss."

"Oh."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and started to at the hem of my shorts. "Zach, I really like you. And I do think about you in that way," I said, pulling out my middle school vocabulary. "But I think right now we need to focus on getting out of here. I wouldn't want our relationship to keep us from working as well as we can," I finished.

He threw his head back. "And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

He lowered his head and met my eyes. It took a great deal of effort to not look away. "I mean, after we get out of here, then what?"

"Then we can try to make this work. I promise."

Zach smiled sadly, which all but tore my heart to pieces. "Cammie, I really care about you. If you don't want to have relationship with me, you don't have to make excuses-"

I interrupted him, "Zach, believe me, I want to have a relationship with you. I just don't want to start dating you when we're both under this much stress. Let's wait until things calm down." He nodded and picked up the Moleskin notebook and pen he'd stolen from downstairs and started writing.

"Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, do not tell me that you are starting a diary."

He laughed so hard that his body was shaking before gasping out, "No, no, I'm trying to figure out the code."

I let out a short laugh and then quietly told him, "Well, I think I'm finally ready to get some rest. Wake me if you figure it out."

"Goodnight, Cameron Morgan."

"Good four o'clock in the morning, Zachary Goode."

That night (morning?) I dreamt about Zachary Goode.

A/N: WE'RE GETTING PLACES, PEOPLE. THIS IS PROGRESS. I just ate, like, half a jar of Nutella while editing this. Because I edited it, and then the power went out and my computer was all like "I hate you, bitch" and turned off without saving, and then my body was like, "You can't edit this again without devouring Nutella."

Oh yeah, I have a poll. And Chuck Bass is not getting near enough love on it. Check it out? Or not. Whatever. :)

~Spencer