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superblycaffeinated · 8 months

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Year One: At Home In the Dark masterlist

warnings for series: mentions of alcohol/being drunk, mentions of violence/blood imagery (with warnings for specific chapters), mentions of anxiety and depression symptoms (with warnings for specific chapters), swearing - please do not read if you may find any of this triggering and take care of yourself.

“The proverbial saying ‘All’s fair in love and war’ expresses the idea that, like war, where any strategy is accepted, affairs of the heart are also no-holds-barred contests.”

Chapter One:

“Your mission, should you choose to accept is-“

Groans fill the room and Rebecca Baxter rolls her eyes at everyone. An amber bottle pressed to her lips as she nudges his shoulder. A silent, ‘Can you believe them? They’re absolutely no fun.’

Zachary Goode snickers into his own beer, a silent response of ‘No, you’re just overly dramatic as usual and Cam has probably had too many glasses of wine for this.’

“Alright, alright, fine.” Bex waves her hands and to look at him fully. “Truth or Dare? Clock’s ticking Goode.”

Maybe it’s the way he hasn’t felt this light in a long time - maybe ever, that they’re all together again for it too. Summer evening wind blows at his hair that’s gotten a little too long. From their spot on the porch, he can hear the hum of crickets and cicadas, smell the familiar scent of leaves that are ready to turn for Autumn in the air. He doesn’t even have shoes on, he can’t remember the last time he didn’t feel the need to be ready to go. Or it could be the way his heart does this funny thing of swelling and aching in the same beat when Cam blows hair off of her cheek, giggling like she’s eighteen again as Liz pours more wine.

Or maybe he’s just drunk.

“Truth.”

Yeah, definitely just drunk.

The entire circle falls silent, cups and bottles half suspended to parted lips, laughter trails off as eyes widen. Every single one of them can hear each other’s heartbeats, the distinct ping of water from the faucet hitting ceramic inside and down the hall, and the ticking of the clock just inside the dining room.

Cammie sits up straighter, wiping at her lips. “What?”

Bex sits back against the porch column hard. Liz props up on her knees - clearly criss cross applesauce is too child’s play for what’s at stake here. Macey narrows her eyes at him from her spot on the couch above the other two girls as she tosses back the rest of her wine. Even Preston and Jonas look at him with furrows forming above their brows.

Jesus, they’re all so dramatic.

He rolls his eyes and turns to Bex. “You gonna ask me the question or not?”

“But you, you never pick-“ she looks around the group and he marks the date in his calendar. Rebecca Baxter has been rendered speechless and actually physically appears frazzled as she drums her fingers on her knees and looks at the stars. “I mean, what do I ask? I never thought I’d actually get the chance.”

Cammie narrows her eyes and points at him, “Ask him where he hid the M&M’s because I know he did.”

Zach grins, blowing her a kiss that she rolls her eyes at but smiles into her wine glass because of nonetheless.

Bex waves off the suggestion, not serious enough of course. She snaps her fingers and Macey moves to the edge of the couch cushion. “Oh! Private jet and the Russians!”

Bex counters, “Finland, embassy with the Duchess?”

Cammie laughs, “Idaho, potato farmer?”

Jonas shakes his head. “Nah, don’t waste it on that one, I have pictures.”

Zach makes a mental note about finding and deleting those, beginning to hum the jeopardy theme song. He’s definitely drunk, because he should have been noticing the one girl who was far too silent. He should have known that when Elizabeth Sutton is quiet, that means she’s thinking big things.

“What about when he fell in love with Cammie?” The question is calculated, lazy almost in her tone, but it catches him off guard and Liz is far to perceptive to let it slip. His eyes widened, pupils dilating. His breath changed just so, stuck in his throat. His heart rate increased. Damn stupid beer he was never drinking ever again.

The two men opposite him groan at the suggestion and the four women turn on him. Hawk eyes, lioness’ stalking their prey. He was done for the minute the question was suggested. He has one of two options as he sees it now. Lie his ass off to the room of people who know all of his tells or plead with the love of his life.

Zach shakes his head, staring directly at Cammie. “Cammie, no, please don’t make me talk about this in front of everyone? You hate attention, it’s complicated and-“

She hums into her wine glass interrupting him, “I dunno, Zach, I think high school Cammie really needs some answers. You messed with her head quite a bit.”

Shit, bad move. Should have lied right away - ‘I loved Cammie the minute I laid eyes on her in that DC mall. Truly love at first sight, I just had to figure out who that Gallagher Girl really was’ is not gonna cut it now, they’re far too hungry for juicy gossip like they’re back in school.

“We’re married!” He holds up his left hand to prove the point, grasping at anything to make this all go away. Zach gestures out the entrance of the porch, “Our children are asleep down the hall!”

Cam only levels him with a look he’s grown to know very well. It’s the look she gives the kids when they lie and say they brushed their teeth before bed. He’s busted.

Liz stands, the girl closing in on him until his back hits the porch railing. She nudges his chest as she speaks so threateningly for someone with ducks all over their pajama’s. “Spill, or I get the truth serum.”

“You know, I forget that you’re the scariest one of the bunch sometimes Lizzie,” he gulps as Jonas cackles from his spot on the ground.

The four girls simply raise their eyebrows, and he admits defeat. His hands lift to the air beside his head. “Okay, okay, but I need another beer for this.”

Giddy with their victory, everyone settles into comfortable positions, eager to not let him get away with anything but a good and long story.

Zach avoids the creak of the floorboard as he heads into the kitchen, listening intently for the sounds of his children stirring at all. His hip hits the fridge closed in just the right spot, pulling the opener from it’s drawer.

He looks at the fridge as he leans against the counter, a picture of him and Cam in front of Gallagher on the day of Rachel and Joe’s wedding held up by a hand painted magnet. Red splotchy paint covering the words ‘World’s Best Dad’ glazed and shiny from a kiln. It’s not that he doesn’t know when he fell in love with her, he does, it’s just not so simple.

The bottle cap pops off with a hiss, then a click of it hitting the counter. He watches the green metal spin, slowing as it gets closer to meeting the flat surface of the countertop.

“Goode!”

Zach snatches the copper coin he’d been spinning against the tabletop before it flattens and stands, hands held into fists behind his back at attention.

An armed guard with flushed cheeks and a forehead dappled with sweat marches towards him.

Oh swell, it’s Jeff.

At Blackthorne, any guard calling your name in that tone isn’t gonna be great, but Jeff has this way of spitting when he talks, of not realizing what the words personal space mean, and probably has never ever heard of breath mints and their miraculous powers to ward off coffee breath.

Zach’s fingers fiddle with the coin behind his back. He’s getting better about the whole restless energy and showing it thing, but he figures it’s not dire circumstances to be on his game right now. His mind wanders through the possibilities of what today could be about. One of his bedsheet corners wasn’t tight enough, someone found the little yellow package of chocolaty goodness in his sock, or perhaps Jeff didn’t get his coffee and donut this morning and he just feels like picking on someone.

The cafeteria grows more silent as everyone decides that the show that’s about to go down has got to be better than eating the mystery meat on their trays.

“Sir?” Zach questions, staring at the spot just above Jeff’s left ear. A thing Jeff positively hates, causing him to continuously look over his shoulder and wonder what the hell Zach is staring at - but a thing that fills Zach with a small amount of joy.

It’s the little things.

Jeff does just this, head whipping around so fast he’s surprised the man doesn’t give himself whiplash. Jeff’s gaze darts across the wall and back to Zach. Beady, narrowed eyes meet his, Zach’s lips twitch slightly, revealing too much - another thing he’s still working on. But Jeff is fairly harmless and hasn’t quite mastered the art of interpreting Zach’s smaller tells.

“Visitors,” Jeff snarls and Zach’s shoulders fall.

Fuck.

The room grows even more silent, the quiet din of metal silverware hitting their trays and cups hitting wood vanish completely now as the unmistakable red head of hair floats through the cafeteria towards him. Shoulders straighten, voices cease, and breaths are held with each click then clack of black pumps against the concrete floors.

His mother is here, and she’s brought friends.

“Hello darling, miss me?”

Catherine Goode commands attention, she just does. A room full of hormone crazed teenage boys was already going to be acutely aware of a woman wearing a black dress accentuating her curves walking amongst them, they were already going to stare, Zach knows this. But Catherine has something else, the strong voice of a soldier mixed with a soft femininity enveloping each word she speaks, making you think each word is somehow meant only for you. A perfect way to get what she wants that he’s seen in action enough times to know she’s mastered skillfully. Her loss ratio is zero, she has the control every time.

For everyone except her son.

“Can’t say that I have, Cat.” Zach presses the coin between his thumb and forefinger, the indent of Abraham Lincoln surely going to be preserved in his fingerprint forever. He knows it’s a shot in the dark. Sometimes she’s pleasantly surprised by his resistance, dare he say almost impressed. But most times, it ends poorly for him.

Catherine Goode’s eyes - his eyes - narrow, her playfulness disappearing with an art that Houdini would envy. “That’s no way to talk to your mother, Zachary. Let’s go. I have people I need to introduce you to and we have something important to discuss.”

She gestures to the men behind her as she speaks, before stepping closer. Her head dips - like a snake ready to attack. He visualizes it perfectly before it happens, a hand wraps around his bicep, squeezing. Not in a loving, motherly way, but in a warning - strike one. Her voice lowers as she hisses, “Behave,” while fingernails dig into his skin leaving small crescent moons. The snake is playing with it’s food before it tightens it’s coil and removes his oxygen.

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinds his teeth, jaw clenching as the toes of his boots tap together when he straightens to formal attention again.

She smiles, satisfied with his submission and pats his cheek a little too harshly before turning on her heels and clicking away. Her fingers curl behind her head as she walks. “Gentleman.” Then they waggle out to the faces of the cafeteria in a wave, “Boys.”

He hates that he ducks his head, that he follows her blindly. His gut twists as he counts the cracks in the concrete he already knows the number of, knowing that if he were to lift his head, his classmates - if you can even call them that - would be looking at him with eyes full of pity. Sometimes he envies the ones who have nothing, it has to be better than her. But then, it’s like she knows he’ll have a thought like this. She’ll do something almost nice, she’ll make him feel guilty. How dare he wish he didn’t have her, there were good times once upon a time right?

He shakes his head, no, this is what she wants. He simply follows, choosing to hold his chin up in defiance of any pity that he can feel hitting the back of his uniform as he walks out of the cafeteria.

The men she’s brought follow closely behind her. Suits. Not terribly expensive, they’re not big deals. One is slightly taller, a thick brown mustache. This man watches his mother with sharp blue eyes, he’s not fully under her spell it would seem. As Catherine smiles and gestures into a door, the man nods and enters. The slightly younger and shorter one gestures for Zach to enter first. He’s blonde, strong shoulders, with brown eyes that look at Zach in a way that makes him feel like he’s under a microscope. This man closes the door and stands in front of it and Zach would bet his next few meals that he was Secret Service.

Mustache man sits with a groan loudly in a chair as his mother leans up against a low bookshelf. A fairly empty classroom that wasn’t used much these days. While the weather was nice, it was strictly outside for use of the range, running drills, and perimeter and mountain trail runs. Classroom time was for the bitterly cold days that even the teachers and guards knew wasn’t worth making the boys get frostbite over. Catherine fiddles with a cup of pencils, a finger swiping over the top of the shelf and leaving a streak of clean wood in its wake as her mouth pinches in disgust.

Lovely place you send me to school, huh, mom?

“Well, Zach,” mustache man’s voice is gravely, it leads Zach to believe the man used to smoke. The fact mingles with the face in his brain, a connection trying to surface to the forefront of it. Mustache man continues while holding his hand up at a height not too tall, “You’ve grown! You weren’t more than ye high last time I saw you I think.”

Zach’s always hated this greeting. What was a person supposed to say back to that? Thank you? That’s how time and puberty works? That’s what happens when you get three meals a day and stop wondering when the next one will be?

He mashes his lips together in a thin smile with a nod. He’s pretty sure that was a better move than opening it and saying any of that.

The man looks to Secret Service man and then his mother before giving another nod. “Right, well, you must be wondering what we’re here for.”

No, I love being humiliated by my mother in front of groups of people and then following her and two strangers into a dusty classroom to sit in silence, dude. I live for it, it’s my shit.

Again, not saying that, so he remains silent. Mustache man claps his hands together, looking to his mother for further instruction so it would seem. She smiles at Zach, her salesman one - the one he knows she pulls out when she really wants her way.

“Darling, these men, they have a proposition for you. A mission.”

He stands up a little straighter, unable to help himself at the word mission. A real mission? Involving his mother? The men furrow their brows slightly as Catherine continues and his apprehension and curiosity fight bay-blades style in his head - whirling around and knocking edges, unsure of who’s going to pull out in the lead just yet.

“They need some information. Some information that they think only you may be able to get for them.”

Zach waits, knowing his mother is just getting started. She’s setting a trap, complimenting him, loosening some stones in his closed off exterior, weakening it until it’s ready for a final strike. He rolls the grooved edge of the coin between his thumb and forefinger.

Catherine walks along the wall, her hands clasped behind her back. Her heels click against the tile, gaze lost on the tattered map hung on the wall. She leans in, feigning inspection as she speaks again. Her tone somehow lazy but dripping with an authoritative quality that when combined, made you lean in and feel the need to listen carefully. “As you’ve most likely come to know in your training, it’s important, in some missions, to get close to a subject. To have a relationship with them, to make them an asset.”

The mustached man cut in, “An asset is-“

“A person within organizations who provide information to outside sources. Yeah, I know.”

“Zachary.”

Warning number two, he won’t be given a third.

Silence fills the room again at her sharp use of his name. Zach’s head bows and the other two men focus on her - it’s her happy place, he knows this. She controls the room, two grown men with their entire attention fully on her and her son’s submission, she’d bask in it like it was the sun on the beach for hours if she had the time.

Zach begins to flip the coin, impatient for the details of how this all affects him, what exactly it is he’s being asked here. He watches the coin arc in the air and land in his hand several times, waiting for her big finish.

Her slender and skilled fingers intercept the coin on his next toss. Her green eyes hold his and this time, even he can’t deny them as she delivers his very first official mission.

“We need you to get some information from Joe.”

#gallagher girls #gallagher girls series #zachary goode #catherine goode #zammie #bex baxter #cameron morgan #liz sutton #jonas anderson #preston winters #macey mchenry

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scmewhereelse · 9 months

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Hello I loveeee your prompts, is it too much to request something about what Joe saw in Zach that made him think he is perfect for Cammie? (Cause I believe the theory that he set them up) also, his feels throughout as their relationship progresses? Thanks a lot!

Not me starting to reply and then promptly forgetting it in my drafts for four months, remembering it and obsessing for five days *crying emoji* Than you so much, though, and here you go!!<3<3

Do you ever think that maybe Zach knew about the Circle’s interest in Cammie before Joe did? That his initial interest is spurred not only by Joe’s stories (Matthew Morgan’s daughter, Joe’s best friend’s daughter, a pavement artist: incredibly skilled and so much trouble), but by the name Cameron Morgan travelling from mouth to mouth; whispered in corners, days - weeks - before Zach ever meets her? *

I don’t think Joe set out to have their relationship (necessarily) become a romantic one. He cares about these kids more than anything else in the world, and if inflicting them upon one another can protect them in any way, he’ll do it. They each might just be what the other one needs. To hone their skills. To become better. To become something more than themselves, the sum of their parts.

Zach might have volunteered or Joe chose him to track Cammie that day in January, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that they were always going to meet each other because Joe cannot afford for them not to. Two young, incredibly talented operatives-to-be, more than prepared to cut each other down to size. Cammie is talented and knows it but also trusts too much in her own infallibility while Zach is too sarcastic to know what’s good for him, keeping everybody at arms length.

Joe thinks their first meeting goes well enough, all things considered. Cammie’s pride is stung, but she’s caught Zach’s attention and kept it, which Joe counts an success in and of itself.

So Joe watches as Zach’s gaze follows Cammie in the school halls and how the emotion behind his eye changes as the semester passes by – suspicion, jealousy, curiosity, admiration, care – and knows he is onto something good. He’s not surprised Zach’s attention has latchet onto her, professionally or romantically. Zach deserves those normal teenage experiences Joe never had. He wants him to experience first love and first kisses, the feelings of vulnerability that comes with it and the soaring heights as well. Someone needs to keep this talented, disastrously lost boy out of the same shadows Joe himself got lost in. He will do everything in his power to drag Zach into the light, kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep him there and if Cammie can do it, Joe’s all for it.

Joe isn’t exactly happy when he finds out Zach read Cammie’s report from the fall semester, earning him a conversation about how friendships require an equal exchange of information to build trust and how he could easily alienate Cammie without it.

Still, it keeps Cammie on her toes. Engaging with Zach – always a step ahead of her, knowing things she doesn’t – forces her to both recognise her own strengths and admit to her weaknesses. She needs to wield these things, to know them and control them. This, Joe knows, is what will keep her alive in the field and he’s not above using Zach to teach her.

The semester ends and looking at Zach, Joe realises there is no way back. He would not be able to untangle these two, even if he wanted to.

Then whispers about a Gallagher Girl start circulating where they shouldn’t. Joe must be more nervous than he realises, because Zach wheedles his way onto the job and Joe lets him. Rachel disapproves, arguing his age, his experience, his schooling. Still, Joe brings Zach with him to Boston and the rallies, realising Zach will do this with or without Joe’s blessing and there’s nothing Joe could do to stop him. At least this way Joe can keep an eye on Zach and he can in turn keep an eye on Cammie (who, by the way, is very determined not be kept an eye on, making all of this very difficult).

Zach and Joe only talk about Zach and Cammie once. It is too late to warn him off; Joe never wanted to do that. He knew what would likely happen when he introduced them, but he also knows just how difficult it is to love someone working in this profession. You might trust their skill, their instinct, but part of you will always worry for their safety. And Cammie already has her fathers recklessness and a target on her back bigger than the moon. - Joe might love her, but he loves Zach too. Zach, who has already been through so much, who deserves love, and care, and rest just at much as anybody else. No, Joe doesn’t warn him off. Instead he tells Zach to keep her safe, but keep himself safe as well. That he is not alone and never will be. That he is loved and always will be.

(The Circle comes for Cammie and it’s real, it’s real, it’s real. They didn’t get her this time, but what about the next time? and the time after that?)

A man reveals his past and Joe takes off, running from every letter-combination known to man, leaving Cammie’s safety in the hands of people he does not know. He doesn’t know if he has ever been this scared (except he does; he hasn’t), and he feels guilty beyond measure involving Zach. They will never let him see light of day again if they discover him working with Joe, but Zach has access to her. He has sources and incentives to keep her safe. So Joe allows it, relies on him and works with him, pushing the guilt to the back of his mind, because what other option is there?

The CIA gets him anyway and Joe wouldn’t have done anything different, because the alternative would have been so much worse. The Circle takes him and Joe wouldn’t have done anything different, because Zach and Cammie will find the journal, just as he need them to. The tombs explode, and if he was conscious he wouldn’t have done anything different because the two of them are alive. They will live to fight another day. Together.

Except Cammie disappears and Joe’s not there to learn just how well he taught her or just how much she takes after her father. He’s not there to warn Zach off from taking off after her or hug him when he returns, unsuccessful. He’s not there when Rachel cries by his bedside or when Cammie finally, finally returns, worse off than when she left. He does not see Zach’s trembling hands or hear in his voice the guilt eating him alive when he explains that Cam killed someone. She killed someone and Zach wasn’t there. He wasn’t where he should have been. He promised he’d protect her and he didn’t. (The same guilt will eat at Joe when Rachel finally tells him. He failed to be there when it counted. He failed Matthew. again. again. again- but more importantly: he failed to protect his daughter and Joe will never forgive himself for that.)

He wakes up and he forgives Zach for not protecting Cammie, for not finding her: there is nothing to forgive. This burden was never his to bear, even if it feels that way, even if he loves her. The fault does not lie with Zach, nor with anyone else but the people who took her. (Who tortured her.) He asks only that Zach stays with her for what comes next, knowing the redundancy of his question. The two of them are as inevitable as the push and pull of the tide, a force of nature too powerful to be influenced by the likes of Joe Solomon. He loves them more for it.

(What do you call those, who created gravity so that the sea might pull away from the shore and return again stronger? A god, perhaps. Or maybe just Joe Solomon.)

*he says in oot he hears about it in summer, nevermind

#gallagher girls #gg #ally carter #ya #prompt #im so sorry #I hope this was what you asked for #and thank you<3<3 for asking and for liking my prompts #aaaa #books #**#cameron morgan #zach goode #zammie

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theycallmetatertot · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rachel Morgan/Joseph "Joe" Solomon Characters: Zachary Goode, Joseph "Joe" Solomon, Elizabeth Sutton, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Original Child Character(s), Rachel Morgan (Gallagher Girls) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning Summary:

When Zach has the kidnapping of a twelve-year-old girl tossed into his lap, it's all he can do to manage a lack of leads, a mystery private security consultant, and a mentor hell-bent on saving him from himself.

He's not anticipating the face he sees in the middle of a crowded train station.

#gallagher girls #zach goode #cameron morgan #joe solomon #zammie #just realized I never posted ch 1 here

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depressedwetnapkin · 2 years

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Zach, at 3 A.M: Well I was sleeping with my leg over you but you pushed it off in your sleep and I-

Zach, tearing up and voice cracking:I just wanted to know if you still loved me

#gallagher girls #cameron morgan #zachary goode #zammie #Zach has the emotional capacity of a child

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one-of-them-queers · 1 year

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in honour if valentines day here are my fav ships in no particular order

steddie

wolfstar

jegulus

avery/jameson (idk if theres a ship name???)

zammie

#steddie #wolfstar #jegulus #avery/jameson #zammie

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gildengirl · 5 months

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“Run. It's what people have been telling me to do all year, and now I think it's time I really listen. ... Please don't look for me. Please don't worry. And most of all, please don't think of this as me running away, but of me running toward. Toward answers. Toward hope. Toward wherever I have to go to finish my father's mission and stop this thing, once and for all. ... I'll be back. And when I am, I promise I'll have answers.”

- Ally Carter, Only the Good Spy Young

#Gallagher Girls #Gallagher Girls Series #Gallagher Girls Books #Ally Carter #Only the Good Spy Young #OGSY #Cameron Morgan #Cammie Morgan #Zach Goode #Zammie #Blackthorne #Catherine Goode #Edward Townsend #Matthew Morgan #Joe Solomon #Follow the pigeons

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cammie-morgan-goode · 8 months

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On the deleted scenes, Ally said that instead of Cam seeing Mr. mosckowitz working out, Zach is also an option. But she still wrote Mosckowitz on the deleted scene. Can you fulfill my (& I know most of us, ahem) fantasy of it being Zach??? Thanks!!!

There's something weird about having boys go to your all-girls school. For one, it's an all-girls school which means no boys. For two, it's a whole different thing when said boys are trained better than you are.

Cammie hadn't realized that with the arrival of these boys, a ton of drama would ensue. She felt like she was drowning. And for the first time in her life, she was starting to feel like she just wasn't good enough.

There was a time when she was one of the best in her class. There was a time when people would see her train and think "I aspire to be that".

But now she was being overshadowed.

And for being the Chameleon? She didn't like it at all.

"One of a girl's greatest assets are her feet. If you cannot balance on the balls of your feet and anticipate where your opponent's feet are moving, you will not make it away from a fight." Ms. Hancock tells them, making her way along the mats on the ground. "Pay attention to your partner's feet. Pay attention to their movements. Do they lean on their left foot before they move? Do they suck in a breath before they punch? Do they pay more attention to your feet or your hands? Anything can give away your next move, ladies,"

Cammie stared at Bex across from her, watching her best friend smirk. She'd been sparring with Bex since the sixth grade. She knew that Bex favored her left leg. She knew that Bex's weakness were her knees and her hair. (Which could be anyone's weakness, but Bex made it personal!)

And without hesitation, Cammie's arm shot out, aiming for Bex's head. Bex dodged it easily, leaning onto her right hip. She ducked and swung her leg out, aiming for Cammie's left knee. But, Cammie sidestepped, making Bex fall to the mat.

Ms. Hancock called time and Cammie helped Bex up off the mats. The two girls grabbed their water bottles, drinking from them eagerly. They started following each other out, chattering on and on about nonsense. Cammie didn't even turn as the group of boys entered the P&E barn, faces already red from doing runs outside.

Bex was the one who stopped her though, hand flying out in front of Cammie's chest before she even made it off the mats. Cammie almost yelled at her in protest until she followed Bex's gaze.

The group of boys, some with their shirts off, were already shoving and pushing each other. They were loud and energetic, hyped up with excitement for their workout. Cammie had never seen anything like it.

Her gaze snags on a certain boy with dark hair, separated from the rest. His shirt is slowly getting drenched in sweat as he lags behind. Most would think he's slow and a weak link but, Cammie knew better. And she hated that the boy in question was making his way over to her.

Or so she thought.

Zach stopped a few feet behind the girls, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. He lifted his arms up above his head, his shirt lifting again. The Blackthorne boy shifted on the balls of his feet. Cammie couldn’t stop the image of Zach’s toned calves from entering her mind.

Cammie could feel her cheeks turning red which had nothing to do with the sweat already on her body. She wasn't staring of course but, she could see Zach out of the corner of her eye.

The boys were split away from each other. Some were down on the ground, doing pushups, their legs out straight and their chests a mere inch from the floor. Others had taken it upon themselves to throw punches at each other. But not Zach.

Zach was working out alone, no partner. No spotter. He preferred it that way.

Cammie tried not to notice Zach in the corner of the barn. She tried to focus on her own training or even moving her feet forward. But that was nearly impossible when the Blackthorne Boy in question was doing pull ups.

Zach's face was scrunched up with concentration as he pulled himself up over the bar. He alternated his legs, bringing them to his stomach and then letting them fall, never breaking stride.

Cammie could see the muscles straining beneath his shirt, see the tightening of the skin on his biceps. She could only imagine the smooth skin of his abs glistening with sweat. She knew he had lost count but, Cammie hadn't. 12... 13... 14...

Cammie hit the mat with a thunderous smack.

Her head hit the floor hard, her body crumbling beneath her. The fall left her gasping for air, chest heaving. And all she could see was Bex's snickering expression above her.

"Distracting, huh, Cammie dear," Bex said in her perfect accent.

Cammie coughed, trying to get air back into her lungs. She glared at Bex. Her eyes wide with anger. Until a tall figure entered her cloudy vision.

"Need a hand, Morgan?" Zach said, his eyes glistening with pride. He held out his hand again, this time in her line of sight.

Cammie cleared her throat and grabbed his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Cammie couldn't look him in the face. She knew her face was redder than Liz when she fell asleep by the pool in Alabama.

"Do you find me distracting, Gallagher Girl?" Zach asked, smirking so wide. He was practically grinning from ear to ear. And Cammie hated it.

"In your dreams, Zachary." Cammie said quickly, before turning on her heel and nearly running out of the barn.

She didn't think she ever felt heat like that when she was training before.

And she wouldn't mind if she felt it again.

(Written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)

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