Do you have to stay up during school nights, stay awake the next day, stay up late, stay awake, and do it again and again throughout the week? Well I do. I save the sleepiness for the weekends.
That, however has nothing to do with what I'm writing about today. Fan Fiction has come back into fashion, it seems, so I figure I should give it a try. I'm not posting it anywhere other than here, though. Also, most of these are just really random mini-parts of a fan-fic.
This is a Gallagher Girl fan-fic, which is good because I think all my readers have read that series. It's based on the 2nd book. It's Zac's POV. Remember how Zac seemed to know everything about her? This is how.
I smiled. I had successfully found the right video. Finally! I rewinded it, played with the resolution and noise, and I finally got it right.
"Hi, there," the boy who had seen The Chameleon said. "You come here often?"
I listened to their conversation and watched Cameron's surprised face and amazed eyes--and it didn't look like she was amazed that he saw her. More amazed that he saw her. I went on and watched every single one of the videos involving Cameron--Cammie, actually--and that guy, Josh. It took days, but I did it. I was finally ready for the exchange and the project. Get her to reveal something about herself to me, something that she never talks about--if I could do that, I could get anything out of any operative.
It was time to go.
I walked into the dining hall full of unsuspecting boys, trying to look bored, calm, and keep my nose in the air. I fought a laugh when I saw the Blackthorne Boys all spit out their drinks, start coughing, or drop their forks. It was probably the only time in my life when I didn't mind all the attention. Okay, I minded a little.
I lined up in front of the teachers' table, Macey and Bex on my left and Liz on my right. Dr. Steve then began to give a speech pretty much like the one my mother gave the year before--except my mom wasn't there that day.
The CIA had needed Mom and Mr. Solomon for a mission. Of course, I didn't know what that mission was since I had to have a Level Three Clearance to know.
I missed her so much, and I was so worried. My Sundays are so empty without the Sunday Dinner! (Even though only one has been missed so far, and I can't say that I particularly liked her inedible cooking.) We talked via the mail, though.
"Gallagher Girls and Ladies, please take a seat," Dr. Steve said to us, smiling.
We all started scanning the crowd for the boys we knew from the semester before. Then, I saw Zac looking at me with that cocky grin on his face, and I blushed, remembering the last time we had seen each other.
I made my way over to him with Bex and Liz (Macey went off with Courtney to sit with this Orlando Bloom look-a-like). Zac was sitting with Jonas, Grant, and some other guy.
"Hey, Blackthorne Boy," I said as I sat next to him. It was my turn to be obnoxious and vague.
"Hey, Gallagher Girl," he said, still a little starstruck by the little surprise.
"No! No more of that! It's my turn!" I said indignantly.
"We'll see," he said.
"By the way, my name is Sam," the other boy said.
"Hi, Sam. I'm Cammie," I said politely, thinking of Madame Dabney's rules of etiquette. I was also wondering why he was talking to me. I was still The Chameleon, right? But then again, I was probably one of the first teenage girls they'd talked to in a while (Nadia Says: That makes them seem like hermits or something!), therefore it was impossible not to stand out, and Liz and Bex were engrossed in a conversation with Jonas and Grant, so I was the only female option for conversation (even though he should have seen I was trying to talk to my...kind of boyfriend?...guy I kissed once and currently kinda' like?... How about we call him Zac?)
"Cammie Morgan, right? The CIA legend?" he asked.
"That's me," I said, embarrassed.
"Whatcha' been doing all summer?" Zac asked me, completely ignoring Sam.
"I went to my grandparents' ranch and then I just stayed in the Academy for a few weeks, finding tunnels, the usual," I said. "You?"
"Stayed here." Then he looked up at the teachers' table. "Where's your mom?"
"On a mission," I said shortly, pouring myself a glass of water, not meeting his eyes for fear of them betraying the worry I felt by just thinking of my last parent on another mission.
"I thought she wasn't an operative anymore?" he said.
"That's what I thought. I think Mr. So--," I stopped, not wanting to say too much. But there was no harm, and when had known each other for half a year by then, but I didn't want to say anything.
"You think who did what?" he asked eagerly.
I smiled a devious smile. "You're the Blackthorne Boy. You figure it out."
That's enough for now. Tell me if you want me to continue that, because I might have plans for this story.