I get so caught up in the details, it's crazy. Forgot to add in the last chapter, but I hope you guys don't mind occasional cussing even when it is not in English (it is rated T so I didn't think much of it).
In other news:
Pulling up to the school, I see over a hundred students milling around; no one looks happy. Whoever said the first day of school was joyous and filled with much longed for reunion was flat-out wrong. The abnormally cloudy and cold weather wasn't reassuring me at all either.
"Remember your cover," My mom turns to me as we find our way to the drop-off line. "You we're made for this."
For the first time today I feel warm inside. There truly was nothing like a mother's love, more specifically when said mom is a bad-ass spy complimenting said daughter on her growing skills.
"Thanks, mom, it means a lot," I sling my bag onto my back and reach for the door handle. "I'll keep my eye out."
"Wait! Whatever you do, do not show off! It's important to seem purely average. That means academically and athletically," She puts her hand on my arm and squeezes.
Ha, appear average. That was kind of my thing, but I would be a fool to back talk with someone so dangerous. Instead, I absorb as much advice as I can.
"Will do," I smile and nod. She reaches and bear hugs me for a moment. I break away and exit to keep the line moving.
Smoothing my jeans, I observe my surrounding. Nothing looks right: there's no lacrosse field or beautiful gates, or even familiar faces. I wasn't even allowed to search for Bex or Macey if I wanted to keep to my cover. Walking nowhere in particular at the moment, someone approaches me to my right.
"You look lost," A girl who's all smiles calls out and stops in front of me.
"I am, it's my first day and I don't even know my schedule," I explain in a panicked tone.
"That's no problem, we get a couple of new people every year. Let me show you to the front office," She gushes and steers me away.
"Thanks so much, I'm sorry I'm such a burden to you," I don't truly feel like a burden, but my cover is a sheltered homeschooled girl, so my confidence isn't as high as I would like for it to be.
"Honey, it's no problem! I'm actually a guide for new students that need help."
The girl I notice is slightly shorter than me and has a round face has that reveals dimples every time she smiles kindly. It's strange to not be treated with disgust by the people of the town.
"So, what's your story?" Her small talk is quite intrusive, but I grant her the benefit of the doubt that she has the best of intentions.
"I lived here my whole life, but I was homeschooled. I finally managed to persuade my mom into enrolling me here," I lie to her, it's a shame I have to deceive someone so sweet.
She gasps, "So you have never had friends or- No! You've never had a boyfriend?" She eyes me up and down. "What a shame."
What does that look mean? However, her gaze seems trivial enough to dismiss, and I do without much thought. She pulls open the door to the office nods for me to go in, I don't object.
"I've had friends!" I protest and pull at the straps of my bag.
"Sure," She smiles apologetically then whispers. "But you've never seen the cute guys that go here."
She motions to one of the boys in the office with us. I'm thinking that that's one thing she got wrong when I'm almost taken aback by the guy she was referring to. Being the observant spy I am, I notice every detail of him with objectivity.
The boy must have been sixteen- my age. He was a little taller than average and had dark brown, medium length tousled hair. As he talked to the helper, I appreciated his sharp, strong jawline. The way he was leaning against the counter made his arms flex, and I couldn't stop myself from admiring them. I want to cringe at myself, my observation didn't turn out as objective as I would have liked it to been.
If the girls thought Josh was cute, wait till they see this one. If the rest of the guys at this school looked half as good as him, saving the school would be knocked down from priority number one and replaced with saving my sisters from swooning over these fine specimens.
Before he can catch me gawking I move myself behind him in the line. The new angle provided me a safe look at his back; the way his shirt hugged him made it clear he worked out, but natural enough to know he didn't use steroids (one can never be sure these days).
"He's got to be new," My semi-guide whispered in my ear. "I would have noticed him around if he wasn't."
I give her a small laugh. She made me realize my reaction was exactly what every other girl, and some guys, would have, proving I shouldn't get in over my head. I must stay completely unperturbed my all the impossibly hot guys at this school. Luckily, I had grown boy antibodies so while I may not be able to stop myself from looking, I could handle myself around them.
"I completely forgot! I'm Alex!" She introduces. "What's your name?"
Names. I was hoping to avoid them as much as I could. If anyone were to recognize me around here (besides the obvious people), it would be because of my name.
"I'm Cammie," I smile at her to give her no reason to research into my background. I wasn't one hundred percent certain josh or Deedee or Dillon didn't talk about me or spread rumors about me, but it was a possibility that I couldn't deny.
"That's funny," She quirks her head and stares into space. "Another cute guy at school-everyone loves him- he dated a girl named Cammie. I heard she ended it with him."
The way she says it makes it seem like a girl must be insane to break up with him. Not insane, I muse, just an insane lifestyle.
"Poor guy," I sympathize with her, drawing attention away from myself.
When the guy ahead of me receives his schedule he turns around, I try to step around him and take his place. He doesn't move for a second, just smirks and eyes me up and down too- seriously! What's up with people and their wandering eyes today? I pretend not to care as I shift around him, but his deep green eyes make me highly uncomfortable. Why must everything about him be striking?
"Excuse me," I say and turn my attention to the lady behind the desk, momentarily congratulating myself on my nonchalant brush off. The boy walks out the door and Alex's expression is one of bewilderment. No doubt she thinks I missed out on a wonderful opportunity, but I just shrug.
The lady behind the desk had a strong case of Debby downer, "Name?"
"Cameron Morgan," I reply.
"Are you another one of the unprepared students who comes crying to me complaining how they don't know their schedule when they should have printed it out from the school website?" She rolls her eyes, obviously done with the day.
"Yes?" I shift my head a little offended.
"Well do better, you'll be eaten alive by the rigor of this school if you aren't.," She pauses. Oh, I'm sure I will, I think sarcastically. "Here's your schedule."
A quick glance is all I need to memorize my schedule and the classrooms' locations.
"First class is Algebra Two with Mr. Jackson," Alex smiles wickedly. "You're in for a treat."
She's warning me, but I know I'll be fine. I have a photographic memory and took Algebra Two a long time ago; there was no way I could fail that class, even though it most likely didn't matter if I did or not.
"I guess this is where we part," Alex stops outside the classroom.
"Thank you, see you around," I wave as she goes off.
I don't see any Gallagher Girls in the class, meaning I'm alone. I get a couple of questioning looks as I find a desk to sit at, thankfully there is a seating chart to make my life easier. I can't be sure why everyone is ogling at me, I'm dressed like every other girl here. Of all the stares I receive, one gets under my skin a little more than the others.
The boy from the office sat parallel to me two rows to my left, and I didn't have to have highly trained skills to feel his gaze on my profile. Awkward. Isn't it just my luck to have him in my first class?
The girl next to me is gossiping to her friend about how cute he is and how he's totally checking her out- I wish.
The bell doesn't take long to ring, beginning class.
"Good Morning, all," Mr. Jackson appears through the door perfectly on time, he resembles an aged Mr. Solomon in that way. "To see what I'm dealing with here, I'm giving you a graphing review sheet to start out the year, you are very much welcome."
Everyone around me groans. I stay silent and contemplate their reaction, it's only graphing- and a review much less. The girl in front of me passes the papers back and I take one, continuing the distribution. The sheet is only front and back, no problem.
"Raise your hand when you're done," Mr. Jackson leans back in his chair and starts a timer.
Grabbing a pencil from my bag, I knock out the first two in my head; factoring was easy. Writing down the answers much faster than Mr. Jackson would expect, I chide myself to slow down and go at the pace of others. This is all apart of not showing off.
Letting the other catch up after three minutes, I raise my hand to be the first to show my completion. Seemingly, hot guy thought he would be first too, but he wasn't as quick as me. He raised his hand and smirked like he was the best, but Mr. Jackson noticed mine first. A couple of people pick their heads up to gape at us, and I see they are just down factoring out problem one or writing down the quadratic formula on problem three. That's strange, my schedule did say Honors.
Mr. Jackson makes his way over to me, but glances at new guy, "Hold on, sir, let me check the first person who's done."
"Sir" twitches in annoyance; someone's not used to being second. I smile at him and turn my attention back to the teacher.
"These are all correct! Out of my twenty years of teaching you are the first person to not come back from the break sloppy. Everyone take note and do what Ms." He trails off and eyes me expectantly.
"Morgan," I answer, confused by the spectacle he's putting on.
"Do what Ms. Morgan does!" He throws himself in a full circle happily, waving my sheet in the air, quite agiley for an aging man. So much for not showing off.
"Mr. Goode is it?" Jackson makes his way to him and "Goode" nods, arms crossed. "Don't be so upset she beat you, it really wasn't a contest to begin with."
Goode cocks his heads and studies me more deeply, we lock eyes for a millisecond, then he turns his attention to the teacher.
"And you only got one wrong, very impressive," Jackson admires.
I still did better though, and Goode knows it. He seems like the type of person to be pissed about it but instead he smiles an I-know-something-you-don't-know smile and winks from across the room. New mission: Not only avoid Josh Abrahams, but avoid First Name Goode.
I think I have a slight blush on my cheeks as Goode mouths "show off" at me. What is the appropriate response to that? I lean forward and mouth back "ditto". His shoulders shake softly as he holds in a laugh. I'm not able to stop the smile that graces my lips. This is not good, to prevent further emotional surrender I turn my self to face the front wall. No way was I falling for another civilian.
The rest of the class was slow, somehow the review took up a whole forty-five minutes for everyone else (a quarter of the class gave up). Packing up my pencil I leave for second period, hoping to catch a glimpse of my friends in the sea of people around me.
"Morgan! What's the rush?" Goode puts a hand on my elbow and holds me back. I have the strongest urge to spin him and slam him into the lockers, but that's just the spy in me.
"Second period," I answer breaking free and moving on. I'm not sure which way is the seven hundred hallway, but with the circular layout of the school, I know I will get there.
Goode laughs like I said something hilarious. He keeps walking with me, probably not caring about where his next class is.
"That can wait," He teases, but I perceive it as pestering. "Anyway, I'm surprised someone finished before me. Math is kind of my strong suit."
"Not strong enough," I counter and wear my own smirk. "You'll just have to live with the fact that I'm better than you."
Goode appears entirely pleased with our back and forth, not acknowledging it's centered around his short-comings.
"I'll be better than you in something else then," He smiles, assuring himself. "What's your next class? I'll walk you there."
"Aren't you new? You don't even know where you're going," I roll my eyes, of all the people to offer to be my chauffer.
"If I'm not mistaken, so are you," he reminds, looking down at me. I hate that every time we talk I have to look up at him, it feels demeaning.
"Touché," I concede. "And English Two."
"Really? With who?" He perks up even more, the smirk that was plastered on his face grew.
"Olson," My eyes wandering through the crowd, I make eye contact with Macey and she gives me an almost unnoticeable nod of approval at the sight of Goode by my side. I want to scold her, but I don't know her yet.
"Looks like you have it with me too," He grins and I falter. Avoiding him is proving more difficult by the period.
"Fun," I say sarcastically.
By some miracle, we had found our way to Olson's class. Zach held the door open for me, visibly pleased with his chivalry- god was he so full of himself!
"I haven't asked yet, what's your name?" Zach tilts his head.
"Cammie?"
The one and only Josh Abrahams stands just inside the door talking with a group of friends. "What are you doing here?"
Mierda! Today was just perfect. I had to explain myself at some point, now would have to do, I have a valid reason he should hear after all.
"Umm…" Is all that comes out.
"Do you know this guy?" Zach nods his head in Josh's direction critically and then adds on. "Cammie."
A small whimper of pity for myself escapes my lips.
Question: Do you readers prefer low key or high Key drama? You're input helps me a lot!
Side note: How is my grammer? Usually, I would be annoyed by the usage of "yeah" and other slang in writing, but I'm only using it to mimic regular teen behavior. If that bothers you tell me- I don't want this fanfic to be cringe.