A/N: I understand it's taken like two years to update. I understand y'all hate me. I don't blame y'all.


My body was trying to kill me. Really. That was the only explanation I could possibly think of for the pain I felt when I opened my eyes.

The bright light immediately sent a piercing pang through my head and I groaned, squeezing them back shut. Today seemed like a good day to never leave bed.

As if reading my mind and determined to ruin my plans, the door to my room swung open and Bex was barreling in, fully energized and dressed for the day.

"Rise and shine ladies!"

She jumped onto my mattress and after a vicious groan and a couple of curse words, the pile of blankets at the foot of the bed rumbled to life and Macey emerged looking both thoroughly pissed and hung over.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I don't know at what point of the night she had stumbled into our bed, and I had no clue that I had been sharing a pillow with her feet all night. With a heavy inspection of Macey's face however, I felt sort of glad she had opted to sleep upside down. Her make-up was smeared around her eyes, she had some lipstick under her chin and her face was turned in a very twisted scowl.

"Lower your voice, please," she begged, dropping her face into her hands. I felt her resignation for life on a spiritual level.

"How are you not hung over?" I asked Bex incredulously, falling back onto my pillow. My head gave a pang in protest and I shut my eyes again. I felt the bed shift as Bex rolled off and yanked the blankets with her. I yelped, suddenly realizing I was still wearing my somewhat damp swimsuit.

Bex glanced me over with a look of amusement. "We'll discuss this later for sure," she told me making a gesture towards my clothes, or lack thereof. Then, grabbing my hands and pulling me into a seated position she added, "I'm British love, I haven't been hungover since my fifteenth birthday after winning the pitcher contest at Addington's Pub."

I cocked my head at her in confusion but decided against asking the dozen of questions running through my head (the main one being that I was certain the drinking age was 18 even in Europe).

"Well I am," I groaned. My body swayed a little as I stood out of the bed and I grabbed onto the bed frame for balance. "And it sucks." There was a supportive grunt from Macey on the bed.

"Nothing a shower and some breakfast can't fix."

She was dragging me towards the bathroom before I could protest. It turns out that being in the bathroom was actually perfect for me because the minute the door shut behind me I was reaching over the sink to gag. Was I about to throw up? From drinking the night before? Alcohol was definitely a trickier substance than I had calculated it to be.

Luckily for me, the urge passed and I was able to straighten up and get a look at the wonder that was my physical appearance. My hair, matted from being wet and slept on, was stuck to my face and knotted up at the top. My eyes were cloudy, my skin was pale and clammy, and that stupid swimsuit was hanging crooked on my shoulder. I almost wanted to physically cringe looking at myself.

I started the shower, peeled off the cold, damp suit, and stepped under the stream of the hot water. Instantly, it was like energy was being shot through my body. After a good fifteen minutes of just standing under the water and lazily running shampoo through my hair, I finally decided it was time for me to head back downstairs. I could only hide my miserable headache for so long.

Once I stepped out of the bathroom into the cold bedroom I saw that there were clothes laid out for me on the bed. Macey was relentless, even when hungover. The swimsuit was clearly hers-something stringy and strappy that I would never wear-and a pair of jean shorts that were more fray than fabric. I opted for a compromise, throwing on one of my own swimsuits but humoring her with the shorts.

The minute I landed downstairs I was met with a groan from Macey. She narrowed her eyes at me over a cup of coffee she was drinking. "My suit was cuter."

"Your suit," I said dropping into one of the tall chairs that were surrounding the kitchen island, "covered maybe 2% of my body."

Macey shrugged and grumbled something under her breath. Taking her sort-of silence as resignation, I surveyed the food in front of me. Someone, clearly a morning person, had woken up and decided to prepare an absolute feast of breakfast foods. Hot tortillas were stacked on a plate ready for tacos, scrambled eggs were mounted on a serving tray, bacon sizzled on the stove, and a giant bowl of fruit stood in the center. An opened box of banana nut and blueberry muffins were staring me down. I grabbed one of both.

"I make food and you go for the store-bought stuff," Grant huffed at me, faking offense. I wrinkled my nose at him mid-bite of blueberry and offered a muffled "Sorry."

I looked around the kitchen. Bex, Liz, and Joans were in deep conversation over something, Macey was still scowling into her coffee, and Grant was taking his talents back to the stove. Where was Zach? Was it weird if I asked? Was it weird that I thought it might be weird to ask? This was weird. I'm being weird.

As if on cue to answer my annoying internal monologue Jonas clapped his hands. "You are so wrong Bex, seriously. Ask Zach he'll tell you…" he looked up expectantly and then furrowed his brow upon noticing his friend's absence. "Hey where is he?"

Grant flipped a tortilla high in the air before catching it back on the frying pan. He glanced towards the stairs with a shrug. "Probably asleep. He was up late last night on the phone or something. Didn't pass out 'til like five."

I felt something in my stomach flip. He stayed up talking to Tina for two whole hours? I mean, granted that girl never shut up, but still...I folded the muffin wrapper under my hand once, twice and then three times. Once it was a small little ball I flicked it out of the way and folded my hands in my lap. Annoyance had settled over me and I didn't know why.

"Anyways, he should be getting up soon if he wants to go on the boat," Grant announced, sounding very much like a dad. He dropped more tortillas onto the plate and then folded one into his mouth. "Yeah Buoy leaves the dock in 20."

I choked on the piece of strawberry I was eating. Had I heard that right? "Did you say Yeah Buoy? Grant...is your boat named Yeah Buoy?"

His smile was all the response I needed. Unreal.

"We tried to convince him otherwise," Bex said. Grant threw a piece of fruit at her.

"20 minutes," he said. "Yeah Buoy waits for no man."

Grant wasn't kidding when he said the boat waited for no man. Twenty minutes later he was herding us towards the dock with a barrage of threats. Somehow within that time, Zach had rolled out of bed (still in his swimsuit from last night) and followed us onto the boat. He looked like he had slept maybe two hours total, his hair a mess, and his eyes clouded with exhaustion.

Soon enough, we were taking off across the choppy waters, leaving the lake house behind us in a fit of waves.

"Brewskies?" Preston offered, holding up a pack of beer. I studied the label on the box and wrinkled my nose. Same one as last night. Also, the thought of drinking again made me want to throw up off the side of Yeah Buoy. I'd pass. Grant, who wasn't drinking either cause he had to drive the boat, fist bumped me.

"It's too cold to go wakeboarding," Preston announced, after dipping his hand into the icy waters. This resulted in a chorus of groans from my friends. I eyed the wakeboards and water skis that were strapped to the back of Grant's boat warily and felt a flush of relief wash over me. If I even attempted getting on one of those things I would make an absolute idiot out of myself.

"Good day for some lounging and a tan though," Liz countered, sliding a pair of sunglasses on her face and leaning back against the soft white leather seats. She was right, the air was crisp but the sun radiated enough heat to make my skin sizzle. I followed her lead and stretched out on the front of the boat.

With Yeah Buoy now coming to a halt, Grant threw the anchor overboard and inspected us sun-bathers. "You guys are lame," he groaned. In one swift movement, he was crossing over us and plummeting off the edge of the boat and into the water. Cold water hurtled into the air and landed on us.

"Grant Newman I swear to God…" Macey growled.

He resurfaced, shaking his hair dry and staring at us with a grin. "It's not even that cold."

That was all Zach and Bex needed to hear. They were overboard within seconds. The high pitched shriek that came from Bex once she submerged was enough to tell us that the water was, in fact, that cold.

I laughed, letting the hot sun dry the puddles of water that were trickling down my skin. Someone had turned on the radio and country music was oozing from the speakers. Being from the North, I never listened to much country music but I had to admit, I liked it. It was happy, light, and the perfect music for lounging on a boat.

I let my skin bake for a bit-I was way too pale-but eventually, the sun's heat won and I decided to jump in. Liz and Preston had joined the group in the water and they were all tossing around some sort of Nerf football.

I peeled myself off the cushiony seats of the boat and wiped my sweaty palms on my equally sweaty thighs. Counter productive.

Without a word or a second to hesitate, I plugged my nose and jumped into the water. Instantly, needles of cold engulfed my body and I felt every cell in my body jump to life. Not that cold, my ass. Grant was full of shit.

I decided to tell him this.

He grinned, throwing me the Nerf football in response. I caught it over my head and chunked it in the direction of Preston. Despite the initial shock, the water did feel sort of good after a while. The air was hot and dry which made me actually enjoy being underwater. I was content floating along the edge of the boat when I heard Bex say, "Rope wwing."

The Nerf football whizzed through the air but plopped into the water because no one was paying attention to it anymore. Instead all our heads-mine included-were following Bex's hand. Sure enough, dangling long and golden from the branch of an enormous cliffed tree, was a brand new rope swing.

I thought those were only real in movies.

"I have to swing off of that," I declared, starting to swim to shore. I had never been on a rope swing before and I could feel the nervous energy bubbling up inside of me. Moving to Roseville had checked off so many unknown ticks on my internal bucket list and it never ceased to surprise me.

After a somewhat long swim, I was finally clambering to the shore. The ground was full of dirt and rocks but I barely noticed how much they stung my feet as I started scaling the cliff. At this point, my friends had made the swim from the boat too. Even Macey, who I was convinced would not delve into the icy waters, had pulled herself off the deck of the boat and was ready to hurtle off this cliff too.

"Jesus Cammie you hauled arse over here," Bex yelled up at me incredibly. Our boat was now completely abandoned as we all massed to the land. In front of us was a towering, somewhat dangerous-looking slope of rocks, dirt, and trees.

I shrugged and began to climb up. By the time I reached the top, I was breathless and my heart was beating out of my chest. From the water, the rope didn't seem that high at all. But now, being at the top of the cliff, I was starting to think otherwise. The drop must've been around 30 feet, and even though the water was perfectly clear, all I could think about was dropping directly onto a rock and snapping in half like a piece of uncooked spaghetti.

I looked off the edge of the cliff and backed up a couple of feet, right into someone else. I jumped in surprise, turning to see who I had run into only to find that it was Zach. He was dripping wet, his mouth pulled into a very amused smile. "Drop a little bigger than you had imagined?" He drawled tauntingly.

I narrowed my eyes. That was 100% the case but for some reason when it came out of his mouth it made me want to lie. I shrugged, looking back towards the edge. The drop was literally making me dizzy. Either way, I said, "Just letting someone else go first, I don't wanna hog it."

"How selfless of you."

"I'm thoughtful like that"

For a brief moment, we just stood there, challenging each other. I momentarily forgot that there were like six other people there with us. It wasn't until Preston-with no warning-took hold of the rope, kicked off, and let out some guttural, Tarzan-like sound as he plummeted to the water, did I finally turn away from Zach. I hated that my cheeks were hot just from one conversation with him.

I watched Preston emerge from the water, grinning like a cat. He threw both arms into the air and screamed, "THAT WAS SO COOL. I AM GOING AGAIN LIKE RIGHT NOW."

Still not having the courage to jump off, I watched both Macey and Bex swing off. By that point, Preston had clambered back up the rocks. After watching Grant go, I was filled with so much nervous energy I knew that I had to go next. I waited for Grant to swim out of the way and then grabbed hold of the rope.

Don't look down Cammie, don't look down.

Before I could hesitate a second longer, I grasped the rope with both hands and kicked off the rock. I was whizzing through the air and just as I hit the highest point, I let go. For those three seconds as I was dropping towards the water, I felt completely weightless. It was like I was flying instead of falling. The minute I resurfaced from the water I looked up at my friends and smiled. "I have to do that at least three more times."

I could hear them laughing from the rock as I swam back to shore. We all jumped a couple more times (4 times total for yours truly, not to brag), and pretty soon we were too tired to even think about making the climb back up the rock. Instead, we all lounged on the boat for a while longer listening to music and tanning.

"Snacks anyone?" Liz offered, holding up a recyclable grocery bag. She tossed it towards us and we dug in, grabbing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chips. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I started eating.

"I really appreciate the use of grape jelly," Preston noted to Liz, raising his half-eaten sandwich in a form of cheers. "Lots of people vary these days, but your dedication to the original recipe is commendable."

I was biting the crusts off my sandwich like I always did before eating the center and I shook my head. "No way," I countered between a full mouth. "Grape is overdone. Don't get me wrong Liz-they're good, thank you-but strawberry jelly?" I let out a dramatic sigh. "Strawberry jelly is a complete game-changer."

"I have to agree," Grant pitched in from the driver's seat of the boat. "Something about strawberry jelly really challenges the peanut butter flavor."

Liz rolled her eyes at him. "Bold opinion coming from the boy who doesn't have strawberry jam in his pantry."

Grant narrowed his eyes at her as he turned this keys in the ignition. "Watch your mouth missy," he warned, rumbling the boat to life. "I have no qualms leaving you here to swim back to the house."

After Grant docked the Yeah Buoy and we unloaded all the trash and dirty towels, the sun was starting to dip in the sky. My body was somewhat achy from all the swimming we had done and I was sporting a nice sunburn across my cheeks and shoulders. All in all, the day was a success.

"How bout we grill some steaks tonight?" Zach offered, dropping the cooler he was carrying onto the kitchen island.

"That would actually be so great," Macy breathed. She stretched her arms over her head. "I'm gonna go shower really fast and then I can come down and start making mac n' cheese?"

"Make is such a generous word," Jonas humbled. "You boil noodles and add powdered cheese."

Macey turned her blue eyes towards him icily. "Actually Jonas," she said bitingly. "I add other stuff too sometimes."

Jonas' eyes hopped to me and he shook his head slightly. Macey definitely saw but she huffed upstairs instead of retaliating.

The Next 60 Minutes

A list by Cammie Morgan

Number of times I nicked my finger while chopping onions for the steaks: 2

Number of times Bex yelled at Preston and Jonas to stop eating the food before it was done: 8

Number of times Macey looked in the fridge to add stuff to her box mac n' cheese: 6

Number of times Zach told Grant that he wasn't needed at the grill and to just go inside man I've got it seriously you don't need to supervise the steaks: 10

Number of times Grant slipped out to the backyard to make sure that the steaks were alright: 17

By the time we had finished cooking and setting up the wooden table on the back porch, I was starving. We had a huge serving of meat, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and Kraft mac n' cheese that was covered in chopped green onions, bacon bits, and black pepper. ("See," Macey had said indignantly, after dumping a bunch of random stuff in the bowl. "I add stuff sometimes.")

My stomach grumbled staring at our spread. "This looks…"

"Fucking amazing," Bex finished for me dropping into a chair. She stuck her knife into a perfectly cooked steak and brought it to her plate.

"Dig in?" Grant offered and like vultures our hands reached for the food.

I piled so much food onto my plate I was sure there was no way I could finish it. But pretty soon I was on my second, then third serving. When I finally finished my last bite I was fighting the urge to unbutton my shorts.

"That was so good you guys," Jonas announced, a burp following his sentence. Zach clapped him on the back in approval.

"We still need to make s'mores," Liz reminded us, turning her head towards the unlit fire pit. "It's tradition."

S'more were one of my favorite desserts. They reminded me of all the times my parents had taken me camping outside of the city and we had snuggled up to a warm fire. My dad always insisted that we pick our own s'mores sticks for roasting the marshmallows from the woods instead of using the store-bought ones. Before every fire, we would search the floor carefully trying to find the longest, skinniest, and most perfect roasting stick.

The thought of my dad and our old camping trips made me smile. I hadn't even realized I had zoned out until I looked up and realized the table had almost been completely cleared. I jumped out of my chair and grabbed my plastic plate and cup. "Oh my God sorry, I was totally somewhere else."

The kitchen clean-up was easy, mostly because the boys did it all. For once, their general lack of hygiene played to our advantage since they didn't feel the need to shower and offered to clean up while we did.

The hot water sizzled on my sunburn and I spent much less time in the bathroom than I had this morning. After the huge meal and a day of recovery, my hangover was more than subdued and all I could think about was enjoying some s'mores.

I slathered on some aloe lotion over my body, tossed on a Gallagher Chess Club t-shirt, and ran a brush through my hair before heading back downstairs. The sun had officially disappeared behind the lake and was replaced with a large glowing moon. It cast a soft white glow across the backyard and the roaring fire the boys had started in our absence.

"This is so nice," I breathed happily, grabbing a blanket off one of the chairs that surrounded the firepit. I wrapped it over my legs and slid into the seat between Zach and Preston. I was trying my best not to look at Zach, as I had been all day. I wasn't exactly sure what, but something between us had changed. I had a weird feeling he felt it too.

If I had, you know,-hypothetically speaking of course-paid even the slightest bit of attention to him, I would have noticed that his hair looked particularly disheveled from being wet all day. I also would have noticed (hypothetically) that the light hoodie he was wearing made his eyes look extremely bright and that when he reached over to put his marshmallow in the fire it pulled up a little bit and you could see his stomach.

But I wasn't paying attention to him so I didn't notice any of that. Obviously.

I grabbed a s'mores stick and punctured a marshmallow straight down the center. Without hesitation, I plunged it into the fire.

"Cammie you're gonna burn it!" Preston exclaimed. His marshmallow was hovering a few inches above the flames and turning a nice gentle shade of brown.

"That's the plan," I informed him, watching the flames engulf my mellow. When it was basically a diabetic torch, I yanked it back out and blew out the flames. "They taste better when they're burned to a crisp. Then they're all hard on the outside and gooey on the inside."

"Sounds a bit like you," Zach smirked.

I let myself look at him only long enough to shoot him glare and then turned back to Preston. "Cracker please."

Preston passed me a piece of chocolate and a graham cracker which I snapped in half and enveloped my marshmallow in. I watched as the chocolate started to lose form and drip onto the graham cracker.

"Not gonna lie that looks pretty good," Bex admitted, plunging her own stick into the fire too.

I smiled smugly, biting into my masterpiece.

An hour and six s'mores later (okay, fine 8 s'mores later), sleep was starting to creep up on the group. Liz and Macey had wandered off to bed, Bex and Grant decided they wanted to play guitar hero before retiring to their rooms, and Preston and Jonas had decided to watch them.

"Want me to put out the fire?" Jonas had asked me before heading back inside. I was still wrapped up in my blanket, enjoying the warmth, with no intent to leave any time soon. I shook my head and Zach, who was still staring into the fire, shook his head too.

"Thanks man, I can do it before turning in," he said.

Jonas nodded, giving us both a big grin before jogging inside. I hadn't realized that Zach would stay outside with me and I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that we hadn't been alone all day. The last time we had hung out I had been drunk and no doubt probably very embarrassing.

Zach shifted his chair slightly so that it was facing me and his eyes landed on me. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Gallagher Girl."

"Zach."

Now he was fully grinning, his teeth glowing under the moonlight like some sort of mischievous Cheshire cat. "You have marshmallow all over your face."

Instantly, I felt my cheeks get hot. I internally thanked the fact that they were already rosy from the fire and he wouldn't be able to tell. My hands flew to my face and sure enough, I could feel the stickiness on my cheeks. I rubbed it off, hoping to rub away my blush at the same time.

"I meant for it to be there," I said indignantly.

"I bet you did," Zach chuckled. He leaned forward again, this time, his hand extended. "And this piece right here, you meant to miss this one?" His hand was warm as it brushed against my cheek. His thumb traced down my cheek in a slow line that landed at my mouth. For a second, a literal millisecond, it ran across my bottom lip. Zach's eyes which had once looked bright were now dark and staring into mine. I swear there was an electric current radiating between us.

Honestly, at this moment I didn't have a thought in my head. Literally not a one. I think the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat thumping.

Suddenly, a shout came from inside-Grant yelling in annoyance at a loss no doubt-and the moment was broken. Zach leaned back against his chair again and pressed his thumb to his lips. "Ew, it's burnt."

I ignored the voice in my head that was yelling OHMYGODTHATWASSOHOT and instead glowered at him. "You are so dramatic."

"I learn from the best Gallagher Girl."


A/N: not a lot of zammie i know but we had a shit ton in the last one and I swear im gonna update sooner and zammie it up