Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!
I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!!!!! I FEEL TERRIBLE!!!!! But, you guys understand schoolwork, right??
I probably should've wrote this in the summer! *sigh* anyways….
HELLO THE BEST REVIEWS AND READERS ON THE INTERNET!!!! HOW'RE YOU GUYS DOING???!?!?!?!?!? I'M JUST DANDY….YOU GUYS MAKE ME SOOOO HAPPY THAT I ACTUALLY WRITE THIS!!!!!
490 REVIEWS! *SCREAMING*
SHOUT OUTS-slash- DEDICATIONS:
Olivia: I really hope you DO make an account! Thanks! Happy Thanksgiving to you too!
Lizzie: No need for violence! Lol, I'm glad you liked it!
Xoxoblondeleftie: Thanks for reviewing more than one chapter! You rock! Thank you!
Voile: Thank you for the wonderful advice, and I'm glad you like the story! :D
Rebellion02: Glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!
SilverGoldsun - .Day. Thanks, that was really nice!
THANK YOU ALL MY REVIEWERS, YOU'RE ALL ON MY LIST FOR "Things I'm Thankful For!"
ENJOY CHAPTER 24!
SSF of Chapter 23:
In the last chapter, it's pretty obvious that Zach has his Gallagher Girl, and Cammie says that he's her Blackthorne Boy during Town Day. Too bad that they don't have each other for that long. Briefly after Zach and Grant go back to the institute to fetch Jonas (with Liz), they decide to play hide-and-seek. Which obviously feels just like home for our sneaking, little Chameleon. After finding Bex…with no Cammie, they have to get her before the tails do.
Who are the tails? Could they be enemies…most likely. Who'll reach Cammie first? Can Cammie unleash her Chameleon skills to stay low of the tails, but how low? Too low for them to find her, of course, it's expected. But is it too low for the Blackthorne and Gallagher team to spot her? Will Cammie's gift keep her afloat with the tails or drown her with her rescue team?
Back to Karen's crisis. Turns out the stranger…or well, strangers that Karen bumped into on her rampage were the one and only Solomon and Jordon. When first meeting each other, Dana's strange suggestion of Karen coming along with them stirs for some unusual events, but safe events…well…mostly. The head of the Beauties finally sticks her dyed hair colored head into the story, and she falls down her towering heels flat on her butt. Thanks to Dana.
But can we thank Dana ever again after witnessing what's going on in her head at the moment? Though making Karen more confident with a new outfit and saving her the humiliation of walking around with paint…and saving her from trackers and tails, what's her intention? Can Solomon expect this (whatever this is) from his childhood friend and new-found sweetheart? Then there are the emails…one from Rachel…one from him…and one so frightening that Dana through her laptop at the wall. Could Dana's intentions for the future, pained memories from the past, and actions for the present unravel a connection to the tails in town? Only one way to find out…
Chapter 24: A Past, A Text Message, and Asking
Time: 11:49 a.m.
Location: Room 1763, Professor's Dormitory
P.O.V: Dana Amelia Jordon
"Worthless!" the word was spat into my face with so much hatred and resentment that I literally took a step back. I had finally fallen when a powerful kick knocked me into the training wall. I could feel my right cheek throbbing. It was getting ready to swell along with my eye that would soon be turning black. Then I felt a massive impact to my face that stung so bad I couldn't tell if it were a slap or a punch.
As if that were the key, I felt myself slipping away, out of my bruising and broken body. As if my very essence and soul was leaking out of it. And in a second, I was out of my body, watching the painful scene before me. It was like one of those cheesy Christmas movies of the scrooge going back in time with the ghosts. Except…there was no snow, these memories did not show a greedy man…but two girls. One is in her late 20's the other looking like she was still in elementary school.
"Why you brat! Can't you be anything other than a pathetic, littleweakling!" the dark haired women raged, emphasizing her insult. Her voice drained out the sound of the air conditioning that was supposed to cool down the summer heat…but did nothing to stop the tension. Her eyes were raging dark holes, cold as they stared at the 10 year old that was struggling to get back on her feet.
Recognition had shot through me when she; Cecile lifted the young girl off the ground by her shirt and slammed her into the wall. The dark brownie-colored hair was short, shiny, and straight. Behind the blackening flesh, I could tell that her eyes were a light caramel color that looked like honey. The skin was a bit pale but the tan from being outdoors was still present, though the bruises and cuts had discolored the pigment, I still knew who it was. I lived through it myself, didn't I?
It was me. My child self. The pang of self pity twisted my stomach and ached in my chest, spreading all the way from my core to my fingers. I was watching my own body, my 10 year old body.
Her--or my, head was lolled to the side, too weak to move a muscle, as she-slash-I tried to contain the groan of agony. Only knowing that it would make Aunt Cecile even more angry. Yes, you read that right. The tyrant that was beating the living shit out of a 5th grader was my-slash-her aunt. I could still feel the burning pain, even if I was just an outsider watching a terrible memory of mine.
"I-I'm so sorry, Auntie Cecile--" the girl whimpered hoarsely. Cecile only had a look of disgust as she stared at the fragile and beaten looking figure she was holding up; practically choking. You could tell from her expression that she couldn't believe that, that was supposed to be her niece. But only treating her worse than the garbage she took out on Fridays. She threw the small girl onto the ground, stepping on her broken form.
The girl being squished onto the ground was biting her bottom lip to keep from screaming, drawing blood from the process. The memories of Cecile's "training programs" in the summer when my parents were away on missions flooded me, the taste of copper liquid entered my mouth. I knew I didn't really have blood in my mouth, but the flashback I was witnessing was sending it to my taste buds.
"Stop groveling you twit!" Cecile shouted, lifting the girl, that was supposed to be me, with her foot and flinging her across the room. Small tears were being concealed behind layers of hair and the droplets mingled with the beads of sweat.
"Are you crying!" the aunt demanded, sounding more like a statement than a question. The words that were supposed to sound sincere and caring were clipped and dishonoring. But, the girl was shaking and wobbling on her feet again, not backing down from her abusive relative. She knew--I knew, that though she was being punched and beaten to a bloody and swollen pulp, if anything. She'd keep her pride and dignity, and clinging to whatever false hope of her aunt ever being proud of her.
But as I witnessed Cecile hastening towards the girl, I forgot for an instant that it was me. My vision changed and I saw not a young Dana Jordon, but a young Rachel Cameron, then in a flash it was a young Sarah Goode, going on and on, through the closest people I've known, my sisters. One by one. Until it ended with a 10 year old Cameron Morgan.
A flame of white-rage had been ignited in me from first watching this, and after seeing my closest friends of my past being tormented by Cecile, it was a frenzy of extreme anger, waiting to be set free. I knew that this would probably threaten my sanity if I ever woke up from the hell of a nightmare (if I wasn't in hell already) but I didn't care. The wildfire that was spreading through me was going out of my control. Right as I stepped forward to defend the girl, I saw a glisten of a switchblade held firmly in Cecile's hand….
I did everything I could. But the blade had simply went straight through me as if I were a ghost in the air. It had pierced the girl's shoulder, taking the knife out, Cecile then slashed her side swiftly. You all think that blood is bright, bright red, right? Like those, cherries you save last for your sundaes? It wasn't anything like that back then. The thick blood escaped the girl's body splattering the cement floor making it slick. The girl was holding her side and was screaming in pain. It was the oddest thing to see that she wasn't crying…
Oh yeah. Now I remember, I was too dehydrated to let anymore unnecessary fluids out of my body. The dark blood was oozing out of her, making a pool of red around herself, so much blood. It was so much, it looked like she'd drown in her own gore. I touched my own side, remembering the treacherous scene being played by my subconscious. But as I did…pain shot through my body, starting at my side going through my entire being in unbearable waves. I pulled my hand back, seeing it dripping in blood. I looked down at myself, I was covered in jagged cuts that were gushing red, making my own pool. The skin was peeling and flapping open. The steel blade of Cecile's knife was tinted deeply in the sticky substance and was glistening.
I screamed.
I shot right up, my spine straight as you can get. My hair was stuck to the back of my neck, I prayed to myself that it was just sweat and not blood. Rational thoughts seemed to leak out of my brain, as my blood did back in the nightmare. I brought a trembling hand to the back of my head, gingerly running my fingers through my hair that was tangled from tossing and turning.
Just when I thought I could get control over myself, I looked at my hand. Covered in blood. Before I could help it, I ran towards my bathroom, leaned forward on the toilet and relinquished my early lunch of sushi. I was kneeling before the toilet bowl, hacking and coughing. I cleaned myself up and rinsed my mouth out. That when I caught someone staring at me…
But it was me. In the mirror. My face was paled, my hair in knots that only expensive conditioner could get out, and my eyes were hollow with fear. I could hardly recognize myself. First I felt self pity but it burned out and all was left was self hatred of allowing myself to revert back to that girl in the dream. The one that was sent to Florida where Cecile Olivia Jordon, the sister of Anthony Matthew Jordon; my father, lived.
I could never truly hate Cecile, no matter how hard I tried…it didn't work, family was family in my book…even family that looked like they wanted to kill me. There were also aspects about her that made me respect her. She was obviously strong and determined, and very independent. So, if you asked me if I hated her, I'd tell you no. That was just how I was, and it hasn't changed since. That's how my father saw me before he went MIA, and I'll be damned to hell before I change into something that he wouldn't recognize as his dear only daughter.
I may have looked like the world's happiest girl during the school year and on breaks. But, that was because of my parents and friends. Ordinary kids, even some spy kids look forward to adventurous summers, filled with excitement. I was dreading it, my summers were filled with injuries, scars, burns, and anything else Cecile could throw at me, literally. Isolated completely from my family and companions, civilization in general. Trapped. Trapped from the outside world.
I've always stayed with Cecile since I was 7 until I was entered into Gallagher, even when I transferred out of Gallagher, I didn't set one foot into her house ever again.
I'd always patch myself up after sparring time with her, she'd never help me repair myself. It's either I'm conscious and can get the medication on my own or if I'm unconscious, she tossed them to me while I'm blacked out; waiting until I wake up to cure myself…even ifI didn't wake up. The NSA and CIA had a new skin-again that I snagged to cover the scars. So that's why I've always come back to my happy life looking unchanged.
All but one injury was concealed though, the blade was dug too deep in my skin, it was left out too long also. So when I tried the skin-again, it had worked, but not to it's fullest. I lifted my shirt, looking at my side. The cut had been about an inch and a half wide, the slash when from two inches below my breasts and three inches above my hips. In the right light, you can see the discolored skin apart from my healthy tan.
My family and friends knew nothing about this, not Rachel, not Joe, and not Dad. I knew if I did, I'd be breaking a family up and I knew daddy loved his sister. So I kept my little mouth shut, not once regretting it. Mom on the other hand…she didn't figure it out, but became suspicious when she saw my scar (that looked a little like a sunburned scratch). I lied, telling her that I was at the beach and this idiot with a surfboard was running and the board scratched me. That didn't completely convince her, but kept her quiet.
I looked at my clothes, I flinched and frowned in distaste at my red shirt. I stripped off and pulled on a completely new outfit. One of my mother's old, white designer blouses; one of kind, a pair of black dress pants, and scooped my hair into a side pony. Sitting on the edge of my bed, reason was easing back into me. My instincts were back in me. In an instant when I saw the scrap of metal and wires across the room. My laptop…or well, what used to be my laptop. I got up and moved the curtains out of the way from the cold window. My breath gathered a fog on the pane.
A sense of awareness opened in me, there was a reason for my terrifying dream. I grabbed my dark purple and black mini-trench coat. I grabbed my silver watch I inherited from my mom and slipped on a pair of black heels, rushing towards the school parking lot, but not towards my beloved Ducati (partially because I truly couldn't stand anything red at the moment). It wasn't the time for me to be exposed to enemy firearms. I'll find them, and if I have to, I'll kill them.
Time:11:52 a.m.
Location: Kingston Street, Belfast
P.O.V: Zachary Goode
"Any sign of Chameleon?" Bookworm asked, her voice which was scared had taken on a commanding tone. All of us was dead serious now…hopefully the 'dead' part won't be happening though. Each of us reported in our negatives on where the hell Cammie ran off to. I was holding in my temper, but beneath the hot and hazed surface of my anger was worry. Worry of losing her. I clenched my hands into fists and that's when I realize that I still had the hot dog wrapper in my hand from before. I looked around to see if there was a trashcan anywhere. That's when I noticed it.
Do hot dog wrappers usually have writing in them? I stared at the handwriting that was written in red pen. It was neat, but you could tell by the way it slanted and how most of the letters were bunched, close, and connected together that they were in a hurry to write this. I examined the ink strokes thoroughly but did my best to look casual. I was purposely slowing my pace.
Find her fast. They're coming. Do NOT tell B.I.B. members. Internal receiver is there. No one must know. She's coming too. Help her.
The sentences were clipped short and were fragments. But the information was being filed into my mind, I stuffed the thin paper into my jacket pocket. So 'hot dog girl' was a spy, I stated in my mind. But I couldn't focus on that at the second. The information that was I was just given was running lose in my head, decrypting as many messages as possible and as fast as possible. I started naming off the obvious.
The first line, "Find her fast," was obviously talking about Cammie. The second line, "They're coming," was referring to the tails. The third line surprised me, B.I.B. is short for Blackthorne Institute for Boys. Members meant anyone that attended Blackthorne, but how can I not tell an ally? It's ridiculous to not have back-up in a situation like this!
An idea was forming a loophole in my head, intertwining with the third line, the girl said, B.I.B. she never said anything about Gallagher Girls. But, I could spot the flaw in my thought. Bex and Liz would spill to Grant and Jonas automatically. The other girls, I don't even trust and Dabney's not even in town, contacting her would waste time, something I can't do if I want to get my Gallagher Girl back. There was only other person that made sense.
Ms. Jordon. If I thought about it, having an experienced agent would be great right now, if it weren't for the bad feeling I had about her. The next line only proved how right I was. "Internal receiver is there." But the, "She's coming too. Help her." halted my suspicions immediately. I shouldn't have even be listening to this. Who the hell takes advice from a girl selling hot dogs?…But, the annoying pulling feeling in my gut was telling me that I would be listening to hotdog girl if I wanted my Gallagher Girl back alive.
Time: 12:01 p.m.
Location: Belfast, Maine
P.O.V: Cameron Ann Morgan
Tails. I was taking long, fast strides across the sidewalks of the strip mall. Four--No, Five tails. I memorized this as I pasted Reebok, making a mental note to pick up a pair for Bex. I mean, after I lose the agents. Because I'm pretty sure Bex would want her Reeboks tail-free. I wasn't surprised I had tails, they reminded me of my summers in Nebraska. Mom liked keeping a keen, spy eye on me, this was probably one of those times. I hope I don't throw a knife at this one, I thought back to the guy I almost assassinated when I was cooking some soup for Grandma. But my mind couldn't stop swirling with questions. And from those questions popped out conclusions. Conclusions that include me in a coffin at my funeral and maybe my best friends and kind-of-boyfriend in the hospital downtown!
I shook the image of strong, brave Bex in a coma, looking helpless. I shook the image of fragile and brilliant Liz in a full body cast. I shook the thought of the beautiful face of Macey looking broken and bruised. I was pushing these pictures away into the farthest corner of my mind. I needed to focus so that those terrifying nightmares would never come true.
The clock built into my brain was alerting me that it was almost Lunch time back at Blackthorne, meaning I had to get rid of these tails if I wanted to feel safe and start devouring some deliciously Crème Brulee. I felt my stomach tingle and grumble for the taste of the beefy steak that Chef Louis prepared so well. So just to quench the hunger, I took the next best thing to steak.
"A double-cheeseburger and small fries please," I asked the Burger King cashier. What? My stomach won't tell the difference. The 15 year old nodded his head and punched in the buttons. It was at that moment I saw that one of the five tails entered the restaurant.
He looked to be a bit older than me, like 19 years old, he had hair so dark that it looked jet-black from the dim lighting in the burger joint. He had on a sports jacket, revealing a white and tight-fitting t-shirt under the navy blue. He had on a pair of sweatpants and looked like he just came back from a jog. Mistake one. If he just worked off so many calories that he was sweating like that why the hell is he at Burger King? Sweat-suit-guy was now two lines down from me, the middle line of junk food-loving civilians were the only thing separating the dangerous agent and me. The navel voice of the cashier (who's apparently named, Andy) brought my attention back to my empty, complaining stomach.
"Is there anything else?" he sounded bored to death. Not that I could blame him, being an employee at Burger King didn't sound like a job that would give you an adrenaline rush. Unless, you find a way to make a poison out of the fry grease, that would definitely spice things up.
"Oh, and a medium Dr. Pepper," I said and then hastily added, "Could you make it a to-go?". He nodded, punched more buttons and walked towards the back of the store. Through the beeps and buzzes of the room, along with kids asking their parents for the meals with the toys in them I could hear Sweat-suit-guy ordering his meal, it wasn't a to-go though. By the time I finished analyzing this, I saw Andy pop back out and handed me brown paper bag and my drink. It was stuffed and had the warm heat radiating around it.
I dropped the money into his scrawny, pale hand.
"Thank you and come again," he droned in a monotone voice. I gave him a small look of sympathy, grabbed a straw and basically bolted out the door. The air was chilling but the sun was raining down pleasant rays of warmth.
I walked to one of the crowded picnic tables stationed outside the fast-food place. Picking an area with girls around my age, I slipped into a seat next to a blabbing redhead. After surveying my location and state of being blended I finally gave into my whining tummy. I took a bite out of the juicy burger, tasting the extra cheese, pickles, ketchup and saturated fat. God, I loved it. Sure, I eat five-star each day, but who doesn't love some good, juicy beef-between-buns? Or some salty and greasy fries? As I plopped a ketchup dipped fry into my mouth I heard a distant door being pushed opened.
I used the reflection on the pitcher of lemonade on the picnic table and saw Sweat-suit-guy. He was walking out of the doorway, but the way his shady blue eyes would look around him too much tipped me off. He was looking for me.
Too bad he won't find me. I could see from the reflection that his lips moved the slightest, the lessons that Dana taught us about reading lips seeped into my mind. The most important thing to look at was the tongue, the second is the lips and occasionally the teeth but that doesn't come up that often. Before, he was too far away from the reflection and a women with hair as yellow as the lemonade poured a glass, I saw him mutter three words into his comms units.
"I lost her…" once he was gone, I knew I had to get out of there.
Time: 12:13 a.m.
Location: Cherry Park, Belfast
P.O.V: ????? ????? ??????? (A/N: Those aren't a random of question marks, it's the person's actual name)
"Have you found her?" I asked urgently to my group members. I whispered this inaudibly through the new hoop earring-comms unit. The air in Cherry Park was fresh and sweet smelling, the flowers adding that extra scent with a touch of color. I'm not someone that would usually take in the "beauty of nature". I'm more of a city girl but, this just shows that even a city girl needs some time out. Even if it means coming here and risking her neck for someone she doesn't even know…yet.
"I spotted her, but she disappeared," he reported, his voice was grim and serious. I hid the grin that wanted to break lose onto my face. I even had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at him. She's making this job way too easy, maybe I wasn't needed here after all, I thought vaguely. I forced my voice to choke back the chuckles, making me sound agitated, angry and serious. The freaking, complete opposite of the bubbly giggles wanting to pass through me and into the comms unit.
"Well, find her!" my voice was urgent, no signs of happiness showed in it…well, at least I hope. I could almost see him cringe in that navy blue sweat suit of his.
"Yes ma'am," the other two voices chipped in with the idiot in the sweat suit. I hadn't bothered to learn his name, which I still didn't regret. I almost nodded before I realized that they wouldn't be able to see me.
"Alright, fan out," I ordered. There was a chorus of more 'yes ma'am' (yeesh, I'm 16 years old, not a military general…but then again, I'd rather be overly respected than be the inexperienced new kid…which I'm SO not!) and then they were off, I should know, I planted trackers on them while they slept…or well, not slept, but…unconscious, but whatever.
"How will we find her, miss?" Sweaty-man asked, I almost scoffed.
"She's the Chameleon," I said, not masking the 'duh' tone in my voice. "She could be anywhere!"
"Yes ma'am," he said like a robot. Doesn't anyone have emotions anymore? I couldn't help it, I had to say it as everyone was going to turn down their comms units.
"Moron," I mumbled teasingly. Not hiding my smile in the very least, I let it out.
"Excuse me?" he sounded offended (which was my intension, of course) and I think I even heard one of the others stiffen a laugh. I knew I had to do something before my cover was blown, she was counting on me.
"What? Look! Just get your asses over there and get her," I said, using my actress' voice. Pretending to grind my teeth together from frustration. The others got the message and turned off their comms units.
I still find it hard to believe that they would be scared of a girl about three years younger than them, I just assumed they were wusses. I felt my iPod vibrate in the baggy pocket of my sweatshirt, that was my signal. I flipped a small switch on the back of the hoop earring, being greeted by a different and much less irritable voice.
"The info ready?" she asked, I smiled at hearing her and not the idiotic, robot-like drones I've met and worked with for few months ago.
"You know it," I said confidently, beaming all the while.
"Send it right away, no time to waste, until then, just keep doing what you're doing right now," she instructed, her authority-voice was on. I wanted to laugh (for…like the hundredth time today), this was the same voice that was cracking jokes and cussing (not always in a foreign language too) almost all the time.
"Understood," I confirmed. I felt the comms unit go silent and I knew she was done. And no, I won't be telling you who "she" is. What kind of spy would I be if I did that?
Time: 12:21 a.m.
Location: Arcadia Coffee House, Belfast
P.O.V: Zachary Goode
"Mask, Duke," Jonas said through the comms unit, "How're things going on over there?"
"Chameleon's nowhere to be seen," Grant answered, he ran his hand through his brown hair, something I noticed that he did whenever he was frustrated. I guess it was to start tempting him to rip his hair out. I mirrored how he felt on the inside. Where is she? a knot of worry had started in my stomach. These guys were dangerous, I knew that Cammie was good, really good. But can she her own up against professionals that were trained to kill? To kill her. And being so badly outnumbered hadn't given her odds of getting away much of a boost either.
I heard Bex curse in Italian, Liz hadn't attempted to stop her either, meaning that the weight of the situation had hit her dead on. I had to admit, it hadn't completely sunken in until I saw the tails. Now that she's missing somewhere in this town with possible assassins on her. If I could, I'd trade places with her. Which is ridiculous because any spy in their right mind would try to avoid that situation. When it appeared in my mind, I thought it was the "spur-of-the-moment" type thing, it shocked me to realize how much truth were in those words.
The song "Because of You" by Ne-yo filled the air between my and Grant, the sound was pumping from his iPhone, he started poking around on the surface of the phone. That's when I felt a subtle vibration in my jean pocket, I slipped my hand in and fished out my silver Blackberry Pearl. New Message. I could feel Grant shoot me a look and asked, not me, but everyone on the comms frequency.
"Did you guys just get a text?"
"Yeah," Liz said, incredulously, "You guys, too?"
"Just got it," I announced. I could hear Jonas and Bex mumbling their agreements. But the message that was flashing before my eyes, was enough to draw my attention away for a bit. The black letter and print of it made my forehead begin to crease. What the hell?
To: Student(s)
All students and faculty members are to return to the Institute immediately
From: The Blackthorne Institute for Boys
"Well, I guess Cam's going to be back at the school then," Liz said, she obviously read the text and was sounding so hopeful that she seemed to drop the codename.
"That's assuming she has her cell phone," Jonas pointed out.
"I think she has her Slider with her," Liz said. That's when I knew that Cammie would get the message. I may not have talked with Liz that much, but from how Jonas was blabbing on and on about her, I figured out she had a photographic-memory.
"Then, let's head back, the school wouldn't send this out if it weren't important," I called, I heard their faint replies as Grant and I started running back towards the school.
Cammie…please be careful…
Time: 12:35 a.m.
Location: Central Auditorium, Blackthorne Institute
P.O.V: Cameron Ann Morgan
This sure is one hell of an auditorium, I thought. I had the second row from the podium. the stage was huge as it stretched from one side of the room to the other. Fashioning the mahogany stage were dusty, red curtains, that hung all the way from the ceiling. Small twinkling lights were set up around the back of the stage, the white wires spewed out like vines in a frenzy, the delicate light bulbs at the tips.
The whole place looked like a giant movie theater. Only, instead of a screen showing a film, there were a row of steel chairs lined up, right next to the stainless steel podium. There was a small microphone sprouting out to amplify the speaker, which is usually Dr. Steve.
The text message didn't phase me, it was a good thing that I had my Slider with me though. I was one of the first people back, it seemed that my tails retreated. My mind and gut were fighting each other, one telling that they wanted access to Blackthorne or even Gallagher, the other telling me that what they were after was…me. I was broken out of my thoughts when I heard the uprising chatter of other students.
They were filing in from the doors behind me, I searched through the sea of people to find my friends and kind-of-boyfriend (I'm still a bit confused about the whole thing, but no one will see that…besides Macey). That's when I saw that familiar face, he was smiling and heading towards my seat. I couldn't help but grin back in response. I stood up and hugged Joe as he made his way to me.
"Hi Cam," he whispered into my ear.
"Hey Joe," I said, pulling back from the hug.
"Sorry I haven't been spending much time with you," he apologized, I was about to tell him that it was okay when he started explaining, "but things have been busy lately," he said vaguely. I sighed and hugged him again, feeling his fatherly love (or should I say, god-fatherly love?).
"It's fine," I waved it away and sat back down. He smiled. That's when I saw a flash that resembled my favorite teacher. I looked up at the stage with Joe following my gaze. Dana was in different clothes (that's kind of out of character…normally Macey is the one that does that).
Instead of the clingy red shirt with the golden graphics, she was in a designer blouse. The white fabric looked smooth and clung to her, the pattern of it dazzled me. I haven't seen anything like it. Dressed in black dress pants and black ankle boots. Her hair was in a long side pony, her parted bangs covered part of her left eye.
She didn't give us a glance, instead she was talking to one of the teachers, since his head was turned away from me, my best guess of who it is would be Mr. Watkins. She looked calm and serene as she stood in the spotlight, Dana always is happier when on a stage. Whether it's an assembly or being in a performance. The limelight was made for her.
When she finally looked over at us, she smiled at me…but it looked a bit strained. With my peripheral vision, I saw Joe give her a wink. This is the perfect time to learn more about these two…
"So…" I dragged out the 'o'. Joe looked back at me. "Should I be calling Ms. J, god-mom, now?" I asked teasingly, Joe laughed.
"Yeah, we're dating," he said still standing, he was leaning on the seat next to me. "That's fine with you, right?" he joked. I just laughed and nodded. I honestly thought they were good together. After learning that Dana; my CoveOps teacher, was one of Mom and Dad's old friends, she felt like family. That's when I saw something snap in Joe.
"How are the classes going?" Joe asked abruptly.
"Fine…why?" I asked suspiciously. He raised his hands up in a look of surrender and smiled charmingly.
"Just telling you that you can talk to me about anything," he explained, but I could hear that he was trying to get at something without being to abrupt. He continued,
"You know, things like…school, friends, shopping, clothes, jewelry…" he jokingly listed, only making me laugh more. "and boys," he added. I freeze and try not to look guilty with Joe's piercing eyes on me.
"About that…" I trailed off, not sure if I should tell Joe about Zach…you see, he can be pretty protective. And after Joe knew about Josh, I overheard him talking to Mom about further interrogation at the Abrams' house and sending me to a clinic to check that…uh…Josh and I hadn't gone that far in our relationship (which we SO didn't! Just some kissing! That's all!). Then at that very moment the gang came walking in.
"There you are! I know you being the Chameleon is cool and all, but for crap's sake, it can be a pain in the ass when we're looking for you," Macey commented, she sat down to my right with Joe still leaning on the left, aisle seat. I had no doubt in my mind that she heard everything that we said and she just saved my butt. One of the reasons Macey is an awesome friend and spy. I sent her look of gratitude and she smiled,
"Hi Mr. Solomon," she greeted politely. And it was only a semester ago from when she first started flirting with my godfather on her tour of the academy. Ugh. It was disturbing on so many levels. Thank god that she stopped soon after that and didn't become one of those drooling girls that leered at him (aka: most of the Gallagher population).
"Hello Ms. McHenry," he returned, matching the formal tone. That's when I saw the other heading towards us. Each of them seemed to look at me with something of…relief? I couldn't exactly tell. Bex being her Bexish self was calm and cool as she walked to the seat next to Macey with Grant following her.
"Hey Cam, Mace," she greeted, "Mr. Solomon," Bex acknowledged and sat down with Grant.
"Ms. Baxter, Ms. Sutton," he continued when I saw my small friend walk up behind Joe. She looked close to tears when she saw me, but I saw that she was covering it up fairly well. I was going to ask what was wrong like any other friend would do. But since I'm her best friend, a spy best friend, I left it alone so she could maintain her cover.
"Mr. Solomon," I heard. She was with Jonas, I could hear her whisper, "How'd he know I was there?" to him as they sat down in row in front of me so I only saw the back of her blond head and the black of Jonas'. Before Jonas could utter a response another voice answered.
"Spy," and I'm sure all of you can guess who said that. I turned around in my seat to see Zach stand about five or six stair steps away from Joe. He had that cocky smirk on as I heard Grant and Jonas groan. When his green eyes met mine I saw that they got brighter and his smirk turned more into a smile. I smiled back at him…then realized that Joe saw the whole!
I turned back in my seat, staring at that the podium, willing someone to start the announcement. Every pair of eyes were on me, my protective godfather, and my possible spy boyfriend. When I saw Mr. Gomez lips say, "This speech might take a while before it can begin" all I could think of this awkward situation was, ¿ah mierda, podía esto conseguir peor? (A/N: It means "ah shit, could this get any worse?" in Spanish). My question was immediately answered with a big, fat "YES"
"Mr. Goode?" Joe asked politely. Zach seemed kind of surprised at first but I saw that he calmed down.
"Yes, Mr. Solomon," he replied.
"May I see you in the hall for a moment?" Joe requested, though his voice asked it, the look in his eyes were ordering him to comply. Alarm bells rang in my head immediately.
"Yes sir," Zach said calmly, his voice was leveled. But I think I was the only one that saw the intimidated look that his green eyes hid. The instant he said that Joe had practically shoved him into the direction of the door. As the two slipped through the door and into the hallway, out of earshot and my line of vision, I could feel the panic stream through me. I didn't think I showed it since no one said anything, except for Macey, but I expected her to know. She gave me a long look then drove right into the heated debate being made behind us by Eva and Courtney about "Who was a better singer, Lady GaGa or Shakira?"
I looked down the row a bit to see that Grant and Bex were flirting like crazy that I was surprised they didn't start making out already. I looked in front of me to see that Jonas was making Liz laugh and slipped his hand into hers. Even though I was only watching the back of their heads, I knew they were both blushing and was waiting for one of them to do something clumsy and Liz's southern "Oopsie Daisies". I felt a pair of eyes on me and my own gaze went to the originator. Dana.
Her eyes were curious, without moving a muscle her eyes flitted into the direction of the door that Joe and Zach had used as their exit. The caramel headlights of her pretty face were asking me if those two were alone. I gave a imperceptible nod and I saw the golden flecks in her eyes sparkled with entertainment and had that "I-should-have-see-that-coming" look in them. As if picking up on my worry and panic about them, she stood up from her metal seat and gracefully stepped out of the limelight and into the shadows. Heading out towards the interrogation-that's-going-to-happen.
Time: 12:43 p.m.
Location: Hall outside of Auditorium, Blackthorne Institute
P.O.V: Dana Amelia Jordon
Men. I thought, amused at the fact that Joe had to deal with his first "goddaughter's boyfriend". He would hopefully not screw this up for Cammie. Even though I knew Cam wasn't the spoiled, I-can-do-whatever-I-want type of teen, she might turn into that if Joe wasn't careful. That's why I was there. I was going to save Mask from the wrath of the [overprotective] Wise Guy.
I had to admit that Zach looked almost exactly like his father, one of my best friends. And that little fact wasn't going to make what I needed to do easier…it only made it harder. But, through the past few days I was able to spots some differences, but that doesn't help me either. Why? The differences were traits belonging to my other best friend, Sarah. Why can't this job be easier?
As I walked down the hall, being careful to keep my heels silent (a really handy trick I learned from my mom) I heard the murmurs of two people. I decided to watch what they would say and do first, might as well get a good laugh in before the boring speech.
I stopped right before turning a corner. I pressed my back into the smooth wall, blending into the shadows. Quieting my breathing, I started listening to the conversation.
"So…what's this about?" a voice asked, it was obviously Zach's.
"You're getting pretty close to Ms. Morgan, correct?" Joe said, purposely dodging Zach's question with a question of his own.
"We're friends," was his simple answer, not going in depth on anything.
"Uh huh," I heard Joe mumble, obviously not convinced that Zach just wanted to be friends with Cammie. I wasn't convinced either…but then again, I did see those two suck each other's faces in the kitchen that one time, I guess my opinion on Zach's lying skills are somewhat biased right then. They're lucky I was there with Joe that night. He would've stepped right into the kitchen if it weren't for me distracting him. Thanks to my honey potting skills I was able to get Joe back to his room without him noticing the make-out session that starred his goddaughter and one of his best students.
"But…" I heard Zach begin, but trailed off immediately. From how his voice sounded, it was as if he was contemplating whether to tell Joe something or try to take back what he just said.
"But…" Joe prompted impatiently.
"I'd like to ask permission to date her!" he blurted out. I swear to god, I almost fell out of my heels when I heard that. That's all it took to bring them (and me) into an awkward silence. It felt like centuries were passing by, but we were stuck in the same time, same place. But, time was still moving, I knew because I heard Joe's intake of breath, getting ready for his answer. That's where I stepped in.
Time: 12:48 p.m.
Location: Hall outside of Auditorium, Blackthorne Institute
P.O.V: Zachary Goode
Why the hell did I say that?! I cried into my mind. I wished I could just take a deep breath and suck the words back into my mouth. I remembered Grant and Jonas telling me different ways on being able to date Cammie without Solomon hovering over us and hating me. Even though I didn't ask them for advice on anything. It was a random best friend thing…I think. Jonas suggested I asked "permission" to date her and that was the first thing that popped into my head and apparently, out my mouth. I awaited the cruel 'no' to come out of Solomon, but we just stood there frozen solid. Both of us were statues, waiting for the other to break or rust away.
The air around us was dense, but not from moisture, but from the uncomfortable silence that we were trapped in. This was probably one of the most awkward scenes ever in my sixteen years of living. I even remember my mom telling me that when I got a real girlfriend that I really lov--liked, that there would be something like this. But I didn't think Mom would have thought that the "dad" that would interrogate (literally) me would be her good old friend Joe Solomon. I saw him stare at me with his green eyes that almost matched my dad's exactly, I stared right on back. Just when I see him about to speak he's interrupted by the clack of heels.
"Don't mind me," the voice of Ms. Jordon said, we both turned our heads to see her leaning on the wall, her long legs crossed over one another, her head was tilted as she looked back at us.
"Dana, what're you--" Mr. Solomon began.
"So what's it gonna be, Joey?" Dana interrupted, she was walking over to us. And…Joey? Joe just gave her look that showed that he was annoyed. She didn't seem to be bothered and just smiled, satisfied. "And if I were you, I'd come up with an answer soon, the speech is going to start in 5 minutes and 40 seconds," she chided. Solomon still looked annoyed but a small half grin had appeared on his face.
"Well…then Zach, from what I could see you and Cammie are good together, but--"
"38 seconds, 37, 36---" Dana teased, still leaning on the wall.
"You break her heart, I'll break open that cocky, little head of yours," his voice was low and dangerous. From my peripherals I could see Dana leaning there, her arms crossed. She was looking down, her bangs covering her eyes. But I could tell, she agreed with Solomon since she had stopped teasing.
The air had gotten strangely chilling, not because of his promise of killing me…but literally. It wasn't much of a change, but it was at the very least 3 degrees lower in the hall. If Solomon knew, he didn't show it…Jordon on the other hand…
"Time to go. Steve'll be pissed if we're not there," Dana comment into the cool, spacious silence that seemed to have taken both our voices. I nodded and began walking back to the auditorium, as I passed Jordon, despite all my suspicions towards her, I smiled and mouthed a thank you. She acknowledged it with a wink.
As I turned the corner I could help but smile from the thought of Cammie. That she was safe and back at the institute. But in the corners of my mind, the paranoid voice whispered to me, Maybe she's not safe at the institute…maybe none of us are, I searched through my mind to find something to distract myself with. But I didn't need to, the sound of two people kissing behind me was enough to get my mind off the topic for a moment.
Time: 1:46 p.m.
Location: Central Auditorium, Blackthorne Institute
P.O.V: Cameron Ann Morgan
"This sure is boring, don't you think, Gallagher Girl?" Zach whispered into my ear, I could hear the smirk. I just nodded. Ever since his talk with Joe, he's been a really good mood…I'll interrogate it out of him later. But, I doubt he'd fess up. The only things that I could think of were either crying (which isn't my thing…except fake-tears) or seduction (hm…not my style, but I could work with it).
But, back to the speech. It was really boring. I could probably say the same thing but, less than 50 minutes long (I was off by 3 minutes and 32 seconds, but I'm so bored, I didn't give it the effort). Even the eccentric Dr. Steve couldn't make it more interesting. It was basically about making new allies and that's the reason behind the exchange. It was pretty obvious to me, and my roommates, even Zach, that I was the reason.
After the whole 'Josh' incident they realized that we needed a wider horizon if we were going to survive. Macey and Bex looked amused about the whole thing, Liz looked kind of nervous. I expected Zach to laugh a little but I saw that he looked…well…pissed. I don't see why he should be mad about the Josh thing, but I'd ask him later.
I looked at the teachers on stage. There was Mr. Watkins with his dark, shiny hair and misty grey eyes, sitting tall and mighty in his seat. He was the one closest to the podium. On his right was Professor Nguyen his glasses were off and his sleek and thick black hair had silver streaks in them, his posture was tall and he looked intrigued.
To the next of him was Mr. Campbell, his wheat colored hair was combed nice and neat and his face was grim. It went on and on, teachers of different nationalities, heights, shapes, and color. I'd say 'gender' but the only female teacher up there was Dana and she was leaning back in her chair, legs crossed. But when the words, "The Final Exams" came I put my entire attention to Dr. Steve.
"The Final Exams for the 8th to 10th graders will be moved up on its original schedule." after that it was just basically back to making bonds with each other. As he spoke about relationships, I felt Zach slip his hand into mine and felt him gave a soft squeeze. I smiled and squeezed back. I admit I was worried about the exams being moved up but whatever doubt about it was gone now. All was left was determination. determination
Once the announcements were done and we were dismissed. All the students were off of classes for the rest of the day. And like I expected, I saw them heading in town. Some on dates, some wanting to go shopping and some just wanting to get some fresh air. But, town was the last place I wanted to be right then, I think the others felt the same way. I looked back at the stage. All the teachers were talking to one another, but Dana was the one missing. She was gone.
* * * * *
Time: 1:58 p.m.
Location: Room 108, West Wing
P.O.V: Zachary Goode
"Hey Zach! Heads up!" Grant called from the mini fridge. I looked up from my bed to see him throwing me a six-pack of Mountain Dew. I caught it in one hand. We had agreed with the girls that we'd go hang out in their new Library-slash-Lounge. None of us wanted to head back into town. We'd be using one of the giant plasma screens for a movie marathon, the deal was that we'd get the food while the girls got the movies ready. We were kind of worried at first about letting the girls pick a chick flick but when Bex is one of those girls, it'll involve action. No matter what.
"I found some popcorn," Jonas declared as he walked in, his arms carrying three bags of popcorn. I smirked and added them to our pile of junk food on Grant's bed. Barbecue Lays, Doritos, Junior Mints, and now, popcorn were in the pile. The school's gourmet food is great but junk food is by far my favorite.
"Time to meet up with the girls," I announced, jumping off the bed and grabbing an armful of bags, the six-pack was hanging in my hands. The guys followed me as we made our way out into the hallway and down towards the large, oak double doors.
"I wonder what the girls picked out," Jonas said, he was carrying a case of Pepsi and a few boxes of Junior Mints.
"Probably something with James Bond in it, did you know, when Bex was younger she dreamed of kicking his ass and getting the title of 007. How hot is that?" Grant told us, he was grinning ear to ear. I was expecting him to ramble on and on about her. He's such a girl. But, I got to say, Bex sure wasn't like those other girls in England that wanted to grow up and find their Prince Charming. I think I'll get along with her.
"I think it might be a comedy, Liz loves movies that are funny," Jonas inputted, he was smiling too. "She even told me about a project that she's starting. It's about making movies into holograms, it's like an extreme version of 3-D," he added. I smiled, that sounded really cool. I wouldn't mind having Liz as a friend, she seemed nice enough.
"Anyways, did you know that she broke her first NSA code when she was just---" Jonas's rambling was cut short by a scream. A shriek that sounded exactly like Macey. We all stopped dead, after the scream there were thumping sounds, loud ones too. I dropped all the food and ran towards the door at full speed. It was locked, instinct took over and I roundhouse kicked it, the doors swung open. Grant and Jonas were behind me, still in the hallway, but I didn't stop.
"Zach!" I heard Cammie scream. I looked into the library. They weren't alone, each one of the girls were in a fight. Five black-clad figures were with them, two were female while the others where male. I didn't hesitate to tackle the guy who was on top of Cammie, pinning her down. I immediately started punching him so hard when my iron fist made contact with the middle of his mask covered face I heard a wet, crack.
The sick sound was drowned out by the man's cry of agony. I vaguely realized that blood had come out of his mask and was dripping on my hand. Lessons of P&E rushed into my head and I struck one more blow to his left temple, even through the black I saw the dark liquid seep out, staining the white carpet. He was knocked out.
"Liz!" Cammie's bloodcurdling voice cried. I looked behind me and saw the one of the women. Her hands were wrapped around Liz's thin neck. She was wringing her neck like it was a stubborn mop, trying to get every drop of liquid out. I saw Liz's body try and fight back at the women frantically her small hands attempting to break the grip of the black gloves.
But when I saw the pale hands finally drop, motionlessly. I saw Jonas run at the lady, giving her a clean kick to the face. Liz was fidgeting helplessly on the ground, I could barely hear the raspy gasps of pain coming from her. Jonas's face a bit bruised but he was twisting the lady's arm behind her back, the arm was sticking out at a strange angle.
Before I could analyze anything else I saw Cammie tossing a man over her head. I saw a trickle of blood dripping down the side of her face, and that was all it took for a dangerous anger to erupt in me. I ran and punched the guy in the gut, I heard the air go out of him, but he countered me. His blazing ice-blue eyes stared at mine, angered, he punched me right in the face. I felt my cheek begin to throb. The pain was excruciating and I felt it creep higher up on my face. But I grabbed his wrist and twisted as hard as I could until I heard the sickening snap.
"Zach, duck!" I heard Cammie say, I immediately complied and saw her foot connect with the man's face. Another guy was knocked out. I turned and saw Bex taking on one of the men twice her size, her footsteps were off, meaning one of those guys hurt her ankle. He charged at her but Grant intervened and punched him into the ground.
They were wrestling each other while Bex took on a new opponent that was started to pummel Macey. I immediately headed for Liz who was struggling to get up. But as I saw Cammie heading into the corner of the room I saw him. He was in all black like the others, there was one more person in here and I saw him pawing through the bookcase as his comrades faced mine.
He came out of the shadows and I saw a small book in his hands…the small book that Jordon was reading when we walked in on her. Before I could take a step forward I felt a hard impact make contact with the back of my skull I fell down and saw the ice-blue eyes staring down at me; mocking me. I was about to fade into unconsciousness but when I saw the others continuing to fight, I forced myself to stay awake. I felt the sticky, warm water like substance drip out of my head and down my face.
"Cammie!" my eyes snapped towards the man that had the book he had thrown her into one of the bookshelves, I saw her rebound from the wood onto the ground. I heard a wet cough and saw that she was coughing up her own blood. The next thing I know, I'm in front of the man. I have him in a headlock, efficiently squeezing the air out of him, cutting off his supply of oxygen. I'd kill him for what he's done. But my chance was gone and I as I looked up, all my friends, my roommates, they were unconscious. Each of them in a serene sleep, I was praying that they'd wake up. But I saw it, on each of them…a skin-thin patch. Napotine patches, they were different though…. The masked figures were all up now, but none of the were attacking they were staring at something…someone.
Ms. Jordon. She was standing in front of the figures, giving orders. You're a traitor…damn you…I wanted to yell it, to tell everyone that she had betrayed us, but it felt like someone shoved a shovelful of desert sand into my mouth. I couldn't talk, it took me great effort to even breath. It was only a matter of time before blood would fill my lungs.
I wanted slip down into the soft carpet, to sleep and rest. But I knew I couldn't. I saw two of the figures in black walk over to a staggering Cammie, she was bleeding even worse than I was, the two men snagged her arms immediately immobilizing her. Dana was in front of her. All I could see from Cammie's eyes were disbelief, betrayal and pain. Excruciating pain.
Jordon's hand slipped onto her blooding forehead and I saw Cammie's blue eyes grow clouding and her eyelids dropped. They set her down on the ground. Coming towards me now. I was already formulating a plan in my head when Ms. Jordon was in front of me, but before I could attempt to punch her, her finger hit me in the back of my neck. I couldn't feel anything after that.
"Pressure point," she said, as if she was teaching me this. But, it didn't hurt anymore…I lost all feeling and it were as if I was hovering instead of on the ground like dead weight. I felt a sticky and plastic surface on my forehead. Heat radiated from it. The warmth was uncomfortable as it eased and spread through my head. It was like an alien force trespassing in my body.
My vision blurred, everything was smudged and misty, it slowly spread into black even though my eyelids were opened. The last thing I saw was Jordon looking down at me, there was an emotion in her caramel eyes, it wasn't anything triumphant, no. It looked like remorse, guilt, regret. If you'll regret this…why are you doing it? I asked in my head, using as much energy as I could to keep my coherent thoughts. That was all I could think of before my world stopped.
I'm sorry for any grammar-slash-spelling mistakes that may occur!
How was that? Good? Bad? Violent? Too Bloody? TELL ME IN A REVIEW!
This is my longest chapter EVER! 10084 words! BOO-YAH! LOL!
Please Review this if you like this story at all! Even a simple, "Update" or "good/bad" is fine with me, JUST REVIEW!
Reviews = Happy Diva = Inspired Diva = Writing Diva = CHAPTER 25 of "What Happens When You Fall Hard!
-----------------------------------------------THE STORY!!!-----------------------------------------------------
Okay, I was wrong~ This story's not going to end that fast, I have more ideas I wanted to plant in here, so this won't be ending so soon! And part of me wants it to end, ideas for the sequel are driving me crazy! :D
I'll be doing the other two GG fanfics after I finish the sequel to this~! And yes, IT WILL BE ZAMMIE! :D
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU ALL!!!!!
I stole this idea from Gallagher Rose, sorry G-Rose I hope it's okay that I made a thankful list too!:
~I'm thankful for the reviews you guys write
~I'm thankful for the awesome friends-slash-reviewer-slash-readers I have like:
-Gallagher Rose-
-Thalia XxGallagher Girl 4evaxX-
-CZgallagher-
-Katherine'TheChameleon'Jackson-
-Ori Lee-
-truegallaghergirl-
-christoferdrewloverx3-
THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU THAT I CAN'T NAME YOU ALL!!!! BUT IN THE VERY LAST UPDATE OF THIS STORY I'LL THANK EVERYONE THAT'S EVER REVIEWED ON HERE…………AND I'M ALSO PLANNING A LITTLE 'AWARD' THING AT THE END TOO!!! YOU'LL SEE!
The first SIX reviewers will get the sneak peek!!!!!
Happy Thanksgiving!
I'll try to update again…ON MY B-DAY! :D
~The Thankful Diva~