Christin Solomon
Chapter 5-The Losing Contest
Cammie's POV
Zach and Grant weren't at Cove Ops and Liz reported that Jonas wasn't in Research. But as we went down to lunch, they all met us at the doors of the Grand Hall.
"Hey" Zach greeted cheerfully and wrapped an arm around my waist, the other guys doing the same thing with their girls.
"How was your . . . um . . . class?" I stuttered, never a good thing for a spy. Zach shrugged and gave a noncommittal, "It was ok." I shook my head, not believing him one bit. Lunch went by quickly and so did the rest of the day. It was after dinner when I was walking toward the library that I spotted Christin walking down the hall.
"Christin!" I called wearily. She turned and smiled in fake pleasant surprise.
"Hi Cammie" She said as I caught up with her.
"Hi" I breathed. Christin raised an eyebrow questioningly and I followed her as she started to walk again. I had many questions to ask her.
"How long have you trained Zach, Grant, and Jonas?" I started; she glanced up at the ceiling as if she needed to think about this answer.
"Since they came to Blackthorne." She confirmed my thought and I bolted on to the next question, a little afraid she would start to become resigned, and choose not to answer.
"Why? You're way too young to be teaching." She laughed at my comment.
"I'll take that as a compliment. I don't have anyone to go home to after a mission since dad was either gone or now the case is he's teaching, so I decided, I would pass on what I knew." She shrugged, but I could hear just a tiny definable edge start to seep into her voice.
"Why are you a spy at such a young age, without Gallagher or Blackthorne training?"
"I was taught much more personally since the day I was born."
"By who?" I asked, almost a little threateningly.
"My mother, my father, and . . . my brothers." Christin glanced at me. I think I was starting to tap on a nerve.
"Brothers? But there aren't any boys with the last name of Solomon who go to Blackthorne." I said, a little bit confused.
"They never made it to Blackthorne." Christin murmured in Italian. I remembered Mr. Solomon talking about how someone might switch into a more familiar or comforting language when they were nervous or uncomfortable.
"What happened?" I whispered.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She muttered, switching back to English as she started to walk faster.
"Christin, I lost my dad too. I know what you must be going or gone through." I said, touching her arm. She spun to face me, her dark eyes making it fairly hard to concentrate.
"I lost my mother and my brothers. Don't compare your loss to mine. It's not a contest to see who's been through worse. I've had my bad times and you've had yours. End of discussion." She spun on her heel and walked away. Muttering in Italian, I was pretty sure I heard no respect in there somewhere.
I realized the emotion I had been playing around, competitiveness. I wanted to beat Christin at something, make her seem a little less perfect of a sister so Zach would notice. In one second, I had tried to make my loss as great as hers, but it didn't work. Now I felt horrible and terrible and every bad thing you can think about yourself. Somehow, I was going to get back on good terms with Christin.