I'm smiling. It's an odd sensation, but I'm smiling.

I shouldn't be smiling. At least, I shouldn't be smiling at Zach. I should be frowning. I should be scowling. I should be doing anything but outright grinning at Zachary Goode.

He stares down at me awkwardly as if it's been years since we spoke instead of fifteen days. We talk all the time these days about nothing, about everything. I don't think either of us know really what to say to Cammie. She still feels like a ghost roaming the school. A body, but not quite a soul. Not fully there. Not yet.

"We should talk." Zach tells me, grabbing me not so gently by the arm and dragging me into one of the unused classrooms. He looks worried, his dark eyebrows creased as he looks around to make sure the room is empty. I could have stopped him or stood my ground, but I don't. I still need him.

I force myself to laugh and make everything feel normal. "Ooh, Zach's gone all serious."

He narrows his eyes at me and sits me down on a desk quietly. I haven't seen him this serious since Cammie came back last week. She barely looks like herself, beat up, skin and bones, and black, short hair, but Zach couldn't be happier. She's alive. That's all that matters.

You can see it in his eyes. The hopelessness and worry is gone. He's back to his cocky self. "Look. I don't…" he pauses, looking around nervously as if this is a touchy subject. "I don't want you to encourage Cammie trying to ignite something to get her memory back."

My eyebrows crease. "What? Don't you want to know what she found out?"

"Have you seen her recently?" he asks me. "She looks like she belongs in the torture section of a World War 2 museum. Bandaged arms, skin and bones. Do you want her to remember that?"

I don't expect the answer when it crosses my lips. My voice is soft as I whisper, "No."

Zach looks at me and gives the slightest hint of a smile. "You look better, Baxter. More… you."

Smirking, I ask, "Who'd I look like before? Oprah?"

I'm not hanging on his every word anymore. I'm staring directly into his eyes now and I can hold his gaze. When he laughs I don't cringe and walk away. I just laugh back and smile when he smiles. Not mimicking him to appear natural, but a true, genuine smile.

"Well," he winks, "I wasn't going to say anything, but…"

I smack him on the arm with an exclamation of, "Damn you, Goode!"

He grabs my arm and twists it behind my back, then pulling me down to sit on the desk next to him. As an afterthought, he takes his grip off of my and puts his hands in his lap, absentmindedly.

"So, were you right?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh?" I respond.

Zach's eyes skirt mine, staring intently at the floor. "About it getting easier. Were you right?" he asks again, sitting back on the desk in the row across from me and crossing his arms. "I mean, you look better. The dark circles under your eyes are gone and you started eating normally again."

I knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time before it was asked. The million dollar question: Am I still in love with Zachary Goode?

I honestly haven't thought about it since that day in the hallway. It's been fifteen days since then. My heart hammers in my chest as I try to figure out the answer.

My eyes glance over Zach. His strong, muscular figure, Gallagher uniform, and emerald eyes. My breath doesn't hitch the way it used to. I don't want to kiss him. Not recently.

I think of the days we've talked, unsure of how I managed to sit next to him and just… talk. Our stress reliever has changed. We don't kiss, we don't sleep, we just talk.

He runs a hand through his dark hair and a worried expression crosses his face. He's trying to read the answer from me and he must not like what he's getting. Does he know what I'm going to say? Does he think I'm going to say something different?

Cautiously, I let myself think of the summer. We'd hit rock bottom. We'd…

Excuses can be made for anything. I cannot rely on my human reason. It will lie to me, take Cammie's heart, burn it, trample it, and provide a good reason for it. Human reasoning is not to be trusted. We are corrupt and evil in our most primal consciousness.

This decision must be objective, not subjective.

So I search through my physical reactions to Zach's presence. There are goose-bumps on my arms, but I think that's from the cold. My heart has slowed down, but my adrenaline is high. My breathing is even. My leg is shaking from the adrenaline.

I wish I had a mirror to see if my eyes are dilated.

But what surprises me most, is that when I search my emotional responses, I find nothing.

And it's beautiful.

"Yes," I tell him, breathing a sigh of relief. "It did get better."

Zach smiles at me and my heart doesn't skip a beat. He hugs me and butterflies don't form in my stomach. I wrap my arms around him, but not for support. I don't need him there anymore.

Would it be too cliché for me to say he's like my best friend? Would it be too gross to say it was like hugging me brother considering the amount I kissed him?

Probably. So, in my mind, he'll always be Zach. The exception to all of my rules. My crutch when I was weak. My shoulder to cry on. But never my lips to kiss. Not anymore.

I smile because I realize that I'm okay with that. I pull away and grin at him. "Nothing." I say, relieved to feel just that. "Absolutely nothing."

Zach smirks, and while I still find it unbelievably sexy, I realize that I find it sexy in a different way now. It's sexy in a my-older-brother's-a-hotshot-but-I'll-never-admit-it way.

"Baxter," Zach laughs gently, giving a small shake of his head. "You're an emotional roller coaster."

I'm not in love with Zachary Goode. And that is the best news I've heard in a long time.

"Teenage girls generally come with the territory of being emotional roller coasters, Goode." I snap, but then grin. "I really don't get what men see in us."

"Ooh," Zach smiles, "You couldn't have me so you switched teams, eh?"

Laughing, I joke, "Dammit, Goode, you found me out."

I think that maybe I can face Cammie now. I don't have to have my walls up and keep my distance. There are no secrets within me anymore.

"Hey," he raises his hands defensively, as if I might hit him. "Just keep your hands off Cammie… Wait—that could potentially be kind of hot as long as I can—"

I bring my elbow into his side. "You wish, man. I don't swing that way."

He nods, nonchalantly. "So if it's not Cammie, then who is it? I can see you and Mace—"

"I'm not gay!" I promise with a laugh.

He leans in close to my face and stares me straight in the eyes. "You know what they say: Denial is the first stage…"

"You suck!" I giggle.

"No I don't. I don't swing that way either." Zach says.

Smiling, Zach and I leave the classroom we'd been sitting in and walk to the Dinner Hall. We take our normal seats and we laugh at jokes that are thrown around.

Maybe one day I'll tell Cammie about what happened between Zach and I, but not today. Tonight I celebrate. I plan to treat myself to whatever I want, because now, I can have what I want and not feel guilty.

I don't want Zach. Yeah, maybe if Cammie hadn't claimed territory first, I might've, but she did. And so I relinquish him safely to her side.

A place in which he will stay as long as she wants him to or I will perform a perfect Klemzich Maneuver on his ass. Sleep with one eye open, Zach, I think to myself as I bite into a roll, because if you pull that crap again, you'll have to deal with me and Macey's water boarding techniques.

He seems to get that from the narrowed eyed glare I shoot at him and he nods.

Yes ma'am. His smirk says.