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Guten 'Tag my readers and reviewers! It's WINTER BREAK! And I'll probably be updating much more to make up for the LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNG wait! SO SORRY FOR THAT! 11 DAYS!
I'd like to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU (you get the point…) to ALL THOSE WHO REVIEWED!! I was in a HUGE writer's block (not that I don't have ideas, it's just that I need stuff to fill them in)
And all those reviews helped me through it, I hope you know how much this means to me. I LOVE writing and even before fanfic, I had a love for reading and mused that I would go into journalism when I get into college…so this REALLY is a big deal for me. Thank you all very much.
Though one review was pretty hurtful I pulled through and I don't blame or hate that person. But please…if you really do think the story sucks…please either give advice (in a nice way) or just don't read.
Happy Holidays and I hope for those of you that have winter break to have an awesome one and those of you who have school, HANG IN THERE!
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ENJOY!
SSF of Chapter 26:
The spies are alerted of the final exams! It's going to be a ball! By the end of the week they must master their skills enough to pass. Can they handle that? Apparently from how Cammie put it, "Salon from Hell" had entered her life temporarily. So as she escapes her own room she thinks of her mom, what's Rachel up to?
She doesn't have enough time to brood over it when she ends up at the West Wing Library, only to find three bloody and dying teachers on the floor with a pair of attackers coming at them. Yes, them. Zach appears to assist Cammie in the blood bath waiting to happen. Zach's opponent has the same blue-ice eyes from before…those fateful nine weeks ago. He's convinced enough that he's fighting for his life, which seems to be a lie. Hey, they're spies they need to expect lies not be shocked by them.
Apparently everything was a hoax. A review for the finals that Solomon and Jordon had orchestrated. Along with Dr. Steve and the other teachers playing the roles of "victims." The rest of the grade had gotten the review too, Cammie and Zach had luckily passed along with Grant and Bex and let's not forget about Liz and Jonas. But…those eyes…they were the same as man before…what could it mean?
But aside from all this spy stuff….let's get to the guy side of things. Zach's emotions for Cammie are strong, very strong. But another feeling's starting to change some things. The new feeling either escalates his passion for Cammie or it may destroy it. This disastrous feeling is lust. Can Zach keep his desires in check or will he risk pushing the one person that held him close since his parents' death away?
Chapter 27: The Watch, The Dress, and The Luck
Time: 9:23 p.m.
Location: Cecile Olivia Jordon's Residence in Florida
P.O.V: Dana Amelia Jordon
"Come in," Aunt Cecile said, it sounded more like a command than an invitation but I complied and stepped into the house. Her face was still set in a serious manner, her dark eyes were still as fathomless as a black hole. This was the women that appeared in the nightmare two months ago (A/N: Please go back to Chapter 24 if you don't remember).
The nightmare was really just a memory though. A memory of when I was 10 years old in the summer time. I stayed at Cecile's house when my parents were away on missions, so basically I stayed with her each summer until I escaped to the sanctuary I now called Gallagher Academy.
I had sparred almost 24/7 with her and the small portion of time that I wasn't in isolation of the training center I was recovering for the next sparring match against her. It felt like an endless cycle and was also part of the reason I preferred autumn over summer. And this sparring wasn't just kicks and punches, it was a full out fight to the death, or perhaps near-death would be better. No rules. One on one. Kicks, punches, knives, there were even guns at one point when I turned 11. After I transferred out of Gallagher when I was a sophomore into the other school I still hadn't come back to this place.
We were walking into the mansion. The hard wood floors were polished to perfection, the furniture matched the beige colored room tastefully. I guess I couldn't just thank my mom for my "fashion eye." My small heels clacked on the floor lightly. It definitely felt different from the sneakers I wore when I came here as a kid.
This place may have looked harmless, high-class, and petite but to me it could've been as frightening as a haunted house. Besides, no one besides my family knew about what happened beneath the house. You'd think there was a room for exercising there, you're close. The training center was located there. I'm pretty sure the sparring room still had my bloodstains on the floor.
Through my nostalgia I noted that we were in the dining room. The walls were made of stone but it didn't give off the "prison" vibe others might have thought of. It shocked me to feel calm standing here. I was whipped out of my thoughts when Cecile turned around and motioned to one of the dark mahogany chairs.
I sat tall instead of slouching in an attempt to show that I had gained some manners. Cecile turned her chair so she was facing me and sat down. When her dark eyes met mine I saw something flash in them, something I've only seen when she was with my dad; her older brother.
"You've grown Dana," she noted as she looked at me. I simply nodded, still sitting with my spine straight (which I could do, but slouching was so much better). That's when the corners of her lips twitch up into a small smile. That itself left me confused beyond words, I had to force myself not to look behind me to see if she was smiling at someone else.
"You can slouch a little if you want to," Cecile said, amusement had soften her voice. I was caught off guard and gave my back a break and lean back a little. I saw her deflate a little as a small sigh came from her light-lipstick-covered mouth.
"Why did you call me here, Cecile?" I asked quietly, almost as if I were afraid someone might have heard. She looked at me and something else was in her eyes now, but it was gone in a millisecond (literally).
"I heard that you've become a Gallagher Academy teacher," she said abruptly. I nodded, feeling impatient like a young child. "And I've also heard that you're at Blackthorne Institute for the rest of school year. The finals are this Friday," The way she said it told me that she didn't need any clarification, any corrections.
"Yes you've heard right," I said, even though it wasn't a question. Whoever her sources are, I suppose I should recommend them to Paparazzi when I get back.
"What else have you heard?" I asked. Cecile looked at me, as if trying to convey a connection with me so she didn't have to say it out loud…saying it out loud…that's when it hit me.
I hadn't even thought of the possibility of bugs in this house, and the fact that she didn't take them out gave me the hint that there must have been cameras hidden away too. I mentally slapped myself. Yes, Cecile was a retired agent, a really good one, but that didn't make her any less of a target.
"Not much. Here," she said softly. She slipped her hand into the left breast pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a bronze handheld clock. I looked at the thing, not even trying to hide my puzzled expression. The clock was an antique. It was a pocket watch. You know, the ones that don't go on the wrist but hang on a chain.
The black, thin roman numerals were straying at the circumference of the watch. The thin hands were just barely touching those numbers, protecting all of that was a glass cover. I had to stomp on the temptation to tell her that we weren't in the "Olden Days" anymore. Her hand placed it onto the table and slid it over to me.
"What's this for?" I asked, picking it up. The metal was cold against my fingers.
"It was mine. You're father carried one too, I guess you could say that it's a good luck charm for our family," Cecile told me.
Dad hung onto one these too? Good luck charm? The sarcastic, bitter words "Not enough luck" wanted to come out of my mouth but I kept them in. If I knew anything about Cecile it's that she was one of the people (besides me and Mom) that was most affected by Dad's death. The thought of my Dad having one these made me clutch the small clock in my hands protectively. I was always a daddy's girl, but no one other than my parents knew it.
"Thank you," I whispered, hoping that I'd stay strong until I could go somewhere private so I could let the tears fall without shame. The ache in my heart was searing up again, the thoughts of never seeing my beloved dad ever again flooded back.
When he left on that last mission…I never got to say good-bye…I never got to give him one last hug or a peck on the cheek…I never said that one last 'I love you'…I wish I did…
Then something I didn't expected happened. I felt a pair of slender arms around me and realized that Cecile was holding me and from how her breathing was off she was holding back sobs too. On instinct I enfolded her too as we grieved on the loss of a wonderful father and brother.
* * * * *
After the hug-fest that fortunately didn't have crying I realized that I had to go, I once again lost track of time. For once in my life, I didn't want to leave Aunt Cecile's side immediately. If I were a kid again I would have bolted a beeline towards the nearest exit (even if it were a window) but it was strangely different now. In a good way. I stood up from the chair with Cecile following to see me off. As I neared the door I received a smile from Cecile but she sobered up.
"I'm sorry…I thought I was making the right decision at the time. I thought I was making you strong, though I knew Anthony wouldn't approve. But all I did was make you hate me," she spoke. I flinched at the mention of Dad. She was talking about the sparring, I immediately thought of the scar on my side. Now that I think about it, if I looked from Cecile's perspective I could see her intention. I stopped and turned around to see Cecile. I finally figured out what I saw in her eyes. Regret.
Join the club, I thought sullenly. I could see the subtle differences now, her hair had thin streaks of silver from the dark mane. She could smile more easily. The eyes that held ice were melted now and looked exactly like Dad's. Cecile Olivia Jordon wasn't the women of steel I had come to know, she was my aunt. She was my family…all I had left of it. I smiled at her.
"You did make me strong, just in a more…violent way then other relatives would've done," I said, choosing my words carefully, trying to make her laugh. She looked at me as if I had just told her I was packing a bikini on a trip to Alaska. A look of delusional disbelief. I laughed at her expression but became serious.
"And don't ever think I hate you, never had and never will," I said, the finality in my voice was obvious. Not liking my formal and dark tone I tried lightening up the mood.
"I know it's cliché but it's true," I joked. and she smiled at me but I still saw the guilt in her eyes. The clock ticking in my head and the clock that was in my hand were warning me to get on my Ducati to sail down the street to where Annie told me to park (and no, I have no idea of how the hell she'll inconspicuously land a private jet in this small town. That's Annie the Miracle Worker, for you).
"I'll see you some other time. I have to run an errand for a friend, love you," I called while walking down the steep driveway towards my red motorcycle. Saying the words "love you" to her (and meaning it) had felt foreign as it rolled off my tongue but I liked it. I could almost see Cecile raising her eyebrows at the wild looking Ducati she was going to see me straddle. I giggled softly at the thought, I always told everyone that my "dream car" would be a motorcycle. They never believed me. They should see me now.
"Oh and Dana," I heard her call back. I turned around to see her smiling, pointing at my hand that was protectively clutching the golden-bronze pocket watch.
"Remember, if you put the clock in your left breast pocket, it's the best luck," she said but something behind her words told me that this was a demand. And once again I obeyed. I slipped the watch into my blouse's left breast pocket wondering what other strange superstitions my family tree held. What next? If I run into a black cat on my Ducati I'll have 7 years of bad luck?
"And tell Rachel I said hi!" She called as I hopped onto the motorcycle. I almost froze (which is bad since I would've fallen right off my bike), I hadn't told her that I was going to Rachel for my errand. How'd she…? As I waved and looked at her through the motorcycle helmet I started the Ducati. When I was flying free in the streets I could only think of one thing.
…We really are related…
Time: 1:49 a.m.
Location: Covert Operations Class, Sublevel One
P.O.V: Joseph Solomon
Where is she? I thought as I leaned on my desk. I think it was clear that most of the faculty and students here knew that Dana and I were together now. Though I barely have any alone time with her, it was still nice. The thought of relationships got me back to Cam's new boyfriend situation. I don't know how it happened but one second I see her annoyed by Zach and the next their mouths are attached to each other in a frenzy. The thought of getting another, more thorough interrogation with Zach popped came to mind. And with no Dana to hold me back. I could feel the tips of my lips quirk up a bit at the idea.
It was the period after lunch and I stared at the students in this class. There weren't as many people in this class as I looked around, spotting Logan and Mitchell Black while doing so. I noted that there were more Gallagher Girls in this class when I saw Mick Morrison, Kim Lee, Anna Fetterman, and Tina Walters. The students were already here, every one of them were more alert today. Probably from the pilot exam Dana and I came up with. I could see a few of them with bruises on their faces.
But if they ever wanted to meet the fields instead of an office somewhere they were going to have to toughen up. Escaping an operation with a few bruises is considered lucky, you either come back with injuries or you don't come back at all. I've seen that firsthand, but I truly wished I hadn't.
Dana was late. But it wasn't her usual tardiness, I haven't seen her since a few days ago. She had told me that she was gong to visit a relative. Besides her vague answer I haven't had the chance to call her, but even if I did I doubt she'd pick up. When she went on her "business" she's completely engrossed into whatever she's doing, even more than a real agent should be, working more like an actress. Being a natural performer was in her blood.
I turned to the class before me, ready to start the lesson with or without Dana. My back was still towards them as I opened my mouth, ready to quiz them about legends. But a voice interrupts, and my open mouth turned to a half-grin.
"Miss me?" she said. I turned around, keeping my face as impassive as possible. All eyes were at the doorway now, staring straight back at the entertained women standing there. As always, she looked like she just came back from the Champs Elysees Boulevard in Paris, France.
She was wearing a black tunic that had white, crisscrossed straps on the back, creating an "X" that connected to the front. The empire waist that was connected with two silver hoops was where the black material ended and the white straps ran up her tanned shoulders. (A/N: Sorry for bad descriptions if you don't know what it looks like, just imagine whatever you like) The jeans stuck to her long legs as did the tunic. Dana's hair was let down, smooth and straight.
I still had the assumption that she thought coming into the classroom was like walking the red carpet. Same old, same old. She flashed a smile at me and the class in general as she walked to the front to join me. It could've been the trick of the light but the strange glint of a metal transmitter being stuck to the wall begged to differ.
Time: 1:48 p.m.
Location: Culture & Assimilation Class, Blackthorne Institute
P.O.V: Cameron Ann Morgan
This couldn't be happening. Surely this package wasn't for me but to be for Bex or Macey or maybe even Liz. But. Not. Me. I stifled the sigh that wanted to escape my lips as I picked up the empty paper-white box. It was wrapped in a beautiful blue ribbon that tied up into a fancy bow before I opened it.
Dana had personally delivered it to me while Madame Dabney took a break from the boys to help with our fitting instead. Stating the obvious, we had separate rooms than the boys for the fittings. And after hearing Corey Baker's loud "OW!" coming from the room where the boys were being fitted, it wasn't going very well.
But then again, it wasn't going well in this room either. For me at least. I think it had something to do with the rich red dress that was being zipped up on me. Not only did I stick out like a glowing neon sign at night, had I mention that it was strapless?
Because I found that was an important detail. Strapless dress automatically equals strapless bra…oh Lord, help me now. Noticing my distress like the awesome best friend she is, Bex gives my back a supportive pat (but with Bex it felt more like a punch).
"Relax Cam, you'll look great in that! Do you think your mom would give you something that would make you look bad?" she said, her 100 watt smile shining. I suppressed an eye roll at Bex's compliment, it was easy for her to say that when she looked like a goddess. But I pulled out a small smile of my own, though it felt a bit wary.
But the last question stumped me, and I felt myself fully smile (not at the dress)but at the fact that Mom took the time out of her schedule to send it to me. So that was a reason I'd wear it. Another reason why I'd wear this floor-length, red and strapless dress was that this was an excuse to not wear one of Macey's designer mini dresses (the dress that I mistook for a tank top).
Compared to the dress the rest of the day was uneventful. The younger students continued to leave a trail of saliva openly behind the ground Macey stepped on. Macey glares and glowers. Bex and Grant sped through their relationship at a fairly fast pace while Liz and Jonas took it nice and easy. Instead of the whole making out phase they stay inside the puppy-love stage in a relationship, past the crush level.
Just so you know, I only know about this after looking through notes for the finals. I just so happened to stumble upon a few note cards about boys. Hey, if you're going to studying until your brain turns to mush you might as be thorough…By reviewing the notes Liz took from Macey's "Boy Lectures" which were pretty popular back at Gallagher, heck Macey should have turned into Professor McHenry for Boys 101.
But no matter how much I read and studied, the information never stuck with me. Learning about Molecular Regeneration and the most lethal chemicals known to mankind, now that's what I soak in. Dating? Outfits? Boys? Much harder. Never stuck.
So I guess when I felt a large, calloused hand cover both of my eyes and an arm around my waist I should've expected to live the scene that had happened. I feel my arm automatically grab the offender's arm and shifting my weight, swinging over my head and in front of me. Maybe. Just maybe if I knew boys as much as I knew about blending in I wouldn't have just flipped my cocky boyfriend Zach Goode over my head.
I immediately lean over to see if I actually hurt the guy. If I did, that would make me a bad girlfriend but as a spy-in-training I just earned myself an A+. His eyes popped open, instead of annoyance I saw amusement in his dark green eyes. And in no time at all I saw his familiar smirk form with his lips.
"Mind lending a hand, Gallagher Girl?" he asked, the voice was unfazed from the fact I just dropped him onto the hard pavement when he was doing something really sweet and boyfriend-like (or at least the 'boyfriends' I know, meaning Josh). I saw his outreached hand and slipped my hand into his. I expected to pull him up what I got was the opposite. Him pulling me down on top of him.
"You can be such a pain in the neck," I stated as I tried to pry off his iron grip. Before freeing myself and standing up I see a quick flash of his I-know-something-you-don't smile.
"Yes, but I'm your pain in the neck," He said teasingly back. I laughed but it was interrupted by his mouth briskly covering mine. I did a mental eye roll, was this all boys think about? I felt his hands resting on my hips. I draped my arms loosely around his broad shoulders, my fingers were playing with his smooth hair on the back of his head as I kissed back. I had to admit that he was a pretty good kisser. But com'on the guy's already close to being a narcissist, no need be make his head any bigger, right?
Time: 6:46 p.m.
Location: Room 108, East Wing of Blackthorne Institute for Boys
P.O.V: Zachary Goode
"Hey man, am I doing this right?" Grant asked. He was pulling at his maroon tie, less out of frustrated and more out of curiosity. I smirked as he continued to tie multiple loops and knots. He was going to need a new tie if he kept this up.
"Let Bex do it for you when we see them later," Jonas suggested as he ran a comb through his thick black hair. Grant seemed to like that idea and left his tie alone, dangling around his neck. The same style that Madame Dabney lectured him not to do. This just makes me smirk more.
The week past by all of us so quickly I don't even remember studying, it was now Friday. The day of the all-school exam and our final and biggest obstacle that all of us need to take before heading downwards to Sublevel Two (or is if you're a R&D student, then you're heading towards Lab Two).
The school's been going into a hectic frenzy, even though classes were canceled for the exams. And when I say a hectic frenzy I'm talking about the West Wing, you know, the ones with the girls in them. But not just girls, Gallagher Girls. A memory of my dad played in my head.
~Flash Back Begins~
I was cracking some codes that my dad brought home from his mission. But unfortunately the roles were reversed and I felt like the codes were cracking me. I was so close to picking up the small laptop and smashing it against the wall.
"Hey Dad, could you help me with this?" I asked my father. He was drinking some coffee in the dining room with Mom. I walked up to him and raised the laptop up so he could grab it.
"It's too hard," I complained, my voice was whiny like any other five year-old. He just chuckled.
"Oh please, son. Dealing with girls is harder than this," he told me. Mom shot Dad a glance that made him shut up. I felt my face crinkle from distaste at the mention of girls (give me a break, I was still five and thought girls were still cootie-infested). Mom and Dad laughed at my disgusted expression though.
"Zach, girls are complicated, especially in their teenage years--" he stopped when he saw my now curious glowing face. Why was it harder when they're teenagers?
"I'll tell you about that when you're older," he rushed. "Anyways, spy girls are even more confusing…but teen spy girls are the most confusing things," Dad told me. And I nodded at his words with fake understanding. Mom just looks at Dad.
"What's so confusing about it, Michael?" she asked slyly. And like I've seen before, I knew my Dad talked himself into a corner. Huh, fine. If I could surmise this it would be something like this:
Girls are hard. Spy girls are harder. Teen spy girls are the most confusing. But from how I saw my parents, spy women are the most dangerous.
~Flash Back Ends~
My mood darkened when I remembered he never did talk to me about girls. Not that I needed it (you think I would need advice on girls?), but it still would've been interesting. I thought it was kind of funny that other guys dreaded their fathers talking to them about the other gender while I wished that it would happen to me. Just another missed moment without my parents, I suppose.
"Zach! Hurry up, we're gonna be late," Grant announced as he was pulling on his watch. But a spy isn't fooled as easily as civilians I could tell right away that, that watch wasn't to keep track of time. I just nodded and adjusted my dark green tie.
I tried running a comb through my hair like Jonas (he's the one with the best hair out of the three of us) but as we all walked down the hall towards the newly added "ballroom" I just ended up dragging my hand through it instead. I never really liked my hair when it was neat, even for a formal examination it's still the same case.
"This is it. Good luck, guys," Jonas said, his tone was still his quiet and nervous self but from the past weeks I could see subtle differences in him. Good differences. He's getting more confident, thanks to Liz. I think Liz has more nerve now too. I smiled again at Jonas while Grant grinned, I saw some changes in him too. Again, good changes. I guess Bex made him less of a player and made him actually use his head more often. But hey, he is the second best of our class.
I turned to face the tall mahogany double doors that stretched close up to the ceiling. I thought back to Jonas and Grant as each of them stood at my side. Jonas on my left, Grant on my right. They were my brothers and we were all linked. Maybe that's why when Grant wanted a more dramatic entrance, Jonas and I complied immediately (no matter how strange and ridiculous). Grant grabbed the right door handle as Jonas reached for the left. And with that the doors opened leading us to the exam. What I saw was definitely what I didn't expect.
Time: 7:28 p.m.
Location: Room 1763, Professor's Dormitory
P.O.V: Joseph Solomon
"The finals are starting now. You should really hurry up," I said. I was standing in the doorway to Dana's room, the box of the fresh manila folders beneath my firm arm. I was already dressed, the midnight black tuxedo was swept onto me. The room was dimly lit and looked like Dana wanted to take a short nap (which she probably did, considering it was her). So when I see an awake and alert Dana I felt surprised but hid it automatically.
"Thanks Joe, I'll be out in a bit," she smiled and her grin became its teasing self again and she added in a stuck-up-movie-star voice, "You know I like being fashionably late," I rolled my eyes at her but smiled smugly.
"Fashionable or not, you're still always late," I pointed out. She jokingly narrowed her eyes at me.
"I'm never late, it's just that everybody else is too early," she retorted and all I did was laugh while she slapped my arm.
"Believe what you want and here," I said. I grabbed one of the manila folders that was labeled, Jordon, Dana and handed it to her. Her expression was a bit puzzled at first but she understood when she flipped the cover. An idea dawned on me and I smiled and wrapped my free arm around her, pressing my lips to hers. It was just a quick brush, but the electric feeling was still there.
"I'll see you there," I smiled, turning my back on a startled Dana. As I walked closer to the new built ballroom and I slipped into my role, ready to start the test. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a bad feeling about the whole thing.
Time: 7:34 p.m.
Location: Room 1763, Professor's Dormitory
P.O.V: Dana Amelia Jordon
My eyes flicked back from staring at Joe to the files in my hands. My cover. The manila folder was smooth and freshly made, specifically for this occasion. I flipped through the legend I was assigned for tonight, memorizing every detail. From social security numbers to what hobbies my cover enjoyed doing.
Name(s): Deborah Elizabeth Mason, Debbie (to friends), Ms. Mason (to coworkers)
Age: 31
Date of Birth: December 8, 1979
Sex: Female
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Light Brown
Sign: Sagittarius
Occupation: CEO of Bath & Body Works, hired two weeks prior to today; Friday, June 2nd, 2010 (was awarded, Most Successful Female CEO of 2009)
Personality: Kind, Conventional, Humorous, Graceful
Likes: Ballroom Dancing, Low-fat Sweets, Classical Music, Painting, Working Out
Dislikes: Rap Music, Spicy Foods…
It went on like that for a while. Though there were some missing pieces of information I grasped enough knowledge to fill in those blanks with common sense. But it wasn't acting out my cover correctly that had gotten the knot in my stomach going. I knew I could play the role of Deborah Elizabeth Mason, I had lived with covers for all of my career.
What had gotten me nervous was tonight itself. I wasn't even testing on the finals, just a spectator, just part of the illusion for the students to play their legend. The thought of what was coming was the center of my fear. I thought it wouldn't but what Rachel said to me as I took the dress from her had only confirmed my grim suspicions.
~Flash Back Begins~
"Cammie's going to look great in this," I commented, rubbing the ruby red material between my fingers. Rachel smiled knowingly and started folding the formal gown and neatly tucking it in a white box. I meant what I said about Cammie looking good in the dress but I knew without a shadow of doubt that she'll be surprised of her new strapless gift. The thought made me want to laugh.
"Thanks for delivering it up," Rachel said, tying a blue silk ribbon on the box. I just nodded, Rachel and I may have been archrivals but many things were pulling us together to become friends. One of those things were the Gallagher students, Cammie especially.
"Well I've got to go, see you soon Rachel," I smiled but something in Rachel's eyes stopped me and wiped the grin off my face. I could feel myself harden from being a friend-slash-rival into an allied spy.
"Keep her safe, Dana. Keep her safe," Rachel whispered, her voice was strong but the way she said it, the way she looked at me, I knew it was a plea more than anything. I faced her and let my walls fall down for a second to show her that I meant what I was going to say next.
"I will Rachel," my voice was soft but determined. Rachel nodded, in my eyes as a sign of gratitude. As I walked down the quiet hall, only my heels and the pocket watch were making a sound. I not only swore to Rachel but I promised it to myself…I will, Rachel…
~Flash Back Ends~
I slipped into my dress that seemed to reflect my legend nicely. It was a sleek black halter dress that went a bit over mid-thigh. I grabbed the black jacket that stuck to me like a second skin, and on one of the inner pockets of that jacket I dropped the pocket watch that Cecile had given me. The words of her telling me that putting the pocket in the left breast pocket was extra luck echoed in my brain. I slipped into black pumps and let my hair go down in loose waves, leaving the light make-up on my face alone. So as I clacked through the halls and to the ballroom door, the clocking ticking close to my heart only one thought made it in my cluttered mind:
I was going to need all the luck in the world for this to work.
How'd you guys think of it? Good? Bad? I can try and fix something but you have to point it out in a REVIEW~!
I know that parts of this were boring, slow, and void of action! But the next chapter is going to be WAY better, I promise!
What's the ballroom look like?? Do you guys like Cecile, why or why not?? What's going to happen with Zach, Cammie, and Dana?? How about Joe??? What's got them so worried?? These will be answered in Chapter 28!
And this is reply to the anonymous reviewer marked "Anonynmous" :
If you really think that I'm disgracing Ally Carter's Gallagher Girls, then you don't have to read my story. I'm not making you. I knew when I wrote this that not everyone would like it. Okay if you think that it sucks then just don't read it.
Though your review was hurtful it DID help me out, I'm working on making the dialogue more realistic, I'll try to make the plot less weak, and I'll try to keep Characters in Character. I'll try to make Dana less of a Mary Sue (and FYI I know what a Mary Sue is). So in a way I'll say thanks.
I'm sorry but I really don't appreciate you saying that I should stop my "amateur writing" I worked extremely hard on this and I think it was unnecessary for you to say that.
Yes, I understand constructive criticism but please do it a bit more nicely, instead of telling me to stop this story. I wanted to keep this private but since you didn't make an account I can't and I needed to get this word out…that's all I'd like to say
I'll try to update as soon as possible!! This story's coming to a close in maybe 2-3 chapters and then the epilogue! :D Then the SEQUEL comes out….but I won't say the title JUST YET. If you're one of the first TEN reviewers I'll tell you the title! Deal??
So Please REVIEW and if you'd like to suggest or help with something PLEASE use constructive criticism and not be a flame like "Anonynmous" Please??
REVIEW, IT'LL BE LIKE A HOLIDAY PRESENT TO ME!
And check out my poll if you haven't please!
The first FIVE reviewers get the sneak peek!
Happy Holidays to all my loyal READERS and REVIEWERS! I wish you a wonderful New Year and a happy holiday, whether it's Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanzaa or another special holiday!
~with love, diva~
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