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Cameron Morgan: Ice Queen on the Silver Screen

Cameron Morgan shines in her first major role as missing prodigy Sheridan Kane in Netflix's newest hit show Rosewood . Although the show, marketed from its inception as a limited series, will not be renewed for a second season, it has certainly made an impact. Rosewood was nominated for half a dozen awards this year after its glowing critical reception. 

Morgan, in particular, has become the center of a whirlpool of rumors. Her unprecedented talent leaves us all wondering where her career will take her next. While she flourished in her portrayal of a fallen ice skater, is it possible the starlet's next program will take place in Hollywood? Morgan’s rumored to be on the shortlist for the lead in award-winning director Joe Solomon’s next project. Morgan's certainly got the claws to play with the big cats, but the question isn't about her skill: it's about her readiness to be smack in the middle of the public eye. 

We know firsthand that publicity is cruel, and not usually good; is Cameron Morgan ready to have all eyes on her? We'll be waiting to see where this starlet's headed next.

Article by DeeDee Silver, December 20

Chapter Text

"Hi. I'm Cameron Morgan."

Cammie stood before the three casting agents in a light blue dress and knee-high socks. Her dishwater blonde hair was pulled into a simple ponytail. She felt suddenly underdressed, unprepared to capture attention more than the two hundred eighty seven other girls they had seen that afternoon.

"Hello, Cameron," the man in the center greeted her. He glanced down at her headshots before realizing how unnecessary that was. The girl he wanted to study was standing fifteen feet in front of him. 

She let out a breath when he looked back up at her. The photographs weren't very good, and she meant to get new ones before coming to Manhattan, but life got in the way. 

She still couldn’t quite believe that she was really standing in a surprisingly small room in a low-profile building in the heart of New York. Although she thought she'd forgotten the names of the proctors, they floated back to her as she smiled at each of them. They studied her right back like looking at a specimen under a microscope.

"Tell us a little bit about yourself," the woman at the right side of the table prompted Cammie. She looked nice, but her eyes were cold. She had a mole on her left cheekbone that looked like it was placed and coiffed hair so perfect Cammie wondered if it was practiced.

Cammie hoped her smile looked genuine, despite the anxiety pooling in her chest. She thanked her lucky stars that she was able to speak without shaking.

"I'm seventeen years old,” she began. “I’m a senior in high school, and I’m from Tennessee.”

“Just like on your show," the man in the center of the table said with a smile. "What was it like to work on Rosewood ?”

Cammie wondered, suddenly, if he had watched it. Maybe he already made up his mind about her and she was done for. She recalled more than a few instances of reshooting takes when she hadn't committed enough, or she'd committed too hard, or she'd simply flubbed a line too many times. Maybe her theatre teacher from middle school was right: everything was an audition.

Did she blow this one before it even started?

Now wasn’t the time to hesitate. She pushed her doubts out of her mind.

Cammie chuckled to herself and clasped her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them trembling. “I was lucky to get Rosewood instead of scrambling for a summer job,” she joked. “It was amazing to work on Rosewood. I hope people enjoyed watching as much as I enjoyed making it.”

The people at the table shared a friendly laugh at that, and it eased the tension in the room. Cammie knew that likeability wouldn’t do much to get her cast in this, but it couldn’t hurt.  Without humor, Cammie was just an unassuming girl with nothing to offer but a talent for pretending to be other people.

"I've been acting since I was five, and I've been obsessed with the Gallagher books since I was nine. I used to be able to quote the entire first chapter," Cammie admitted, a little bit embarrassed. "Mrs. Candie is sort of my hero."

The judge in the middle nodded in approval. "A girl who’s done her research.” He sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “All right then, Miss Morgan. You can go ahead."

Cammie’s heart leapt into her throat. "Thank you.”

"Good luck,” said the woman.

Cammie looked down at the paper in her hand and took a deep breath before reading. With every word, she drew closer to the rest of her life.

Chapter Text

"Cammie Morgan?" Dr. Mosckowitz said. 

Cammie looked up from her worksheet. “Yes, sir?”

Mosckowitz’s bald head glinted in the fluorescent lights. He was wearing one of the seven shirts he owned, and Cammie had counted. It was her second year taking AP Chemistry, and she could afford to slack off.

"You're wanted in the administration office," he finished.

A ripple of murmurs moved through the class as Cammie slid her backpack onto her shoulder and tried to remain calm.

"Damn, Morgan, back at it again--"

"See you in juvie."

"Good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught..."

Cammie rewarded her classmates with an obligatory teenage eye roll and picked up a hall pass from the hook near the door. "See you, Dr. M," she dismissed herself. 

She ducked into the hallway without so much as a look back into the classroom. Maybe she’d finally been caught cramming extra Rice Krispies into her pockets in the lunch line. It wasn't her fault the lunch ladies were stingy. How was a girl supposed to survive on cardboard steak fingers and greasy fries alone, anyway? 

Or maybe it was that time she figured out that the cartoons appearing in bathroom stalls was the work of Chandler Reedy, who was actually plotting a brilliant promposal, and she hadn't told anyone. She wouldn’t take the fall for that, even though it was a noble cause. She hadn't worked her butt off in Dabney's second period APUSH to get stuck with an expulsion for protecting Chandler's schoolboy crush on Poppy Alvarado.
Cammie made it to the school's administration office far too quickly for her liking. 

The receptionist smiled at her from behind her ridiculously messy desk. Cammie couldn't fathom how she managed to keep such an excellent track of tardies in that sea of papers. 

"Hey, Cam!" Mrs. Skinner chirped. Her brown eyes were lined with a pale yellow liner Cammie had only seen attempted by makeup artists on social media. Cammie had to admit she was pulling it off pretty well.

"Hi, Grace," she replied, as cheerfully as one could after being called to the principal’s office. "Why do they need me?" she asked, feigning indifference.

Grace arched a perfectly shaped brow. "That's none of my business, but you don't need to stress, honey. I see those frown lines already."

Cammie self-consciously touched her forehead.

The phone on Grace’s desk started ringing, and Grace waved Cammie off with a manicured hand and picked up the phone with the other.

Clearly dismissed, Cammie turned toward the principal's office and took a deep breath. Her ears were ringing a little, and she pictured passing out and waking up in the nurse's office with her mom standing over her, doubly pissed because she'd had to leave work and Cammie had gotten expelled for whatever she'd been called to the principal's office for--

"Hey, Cam!"

Her nightmare had come to life. Rachel Morgan was sitting in the chair beside Mr. Pryde's desk and beaming at Cammie.

Mr. Pryde smiled at his screen and said, "All right, she's here."

Cammie froze in the doorway and debated which escape route would be best: the window, door, or spontaneous combustion? 

Her mother took her hand. "I’m so glad you’re here," she said with a little giggle.

"Come here, Miss Morgan," Mr. Pryde said, nearly vibrating with glee. He stood and gestured for her to sit in his chair.

Cammie did. She found herself looking into a familiar, but unnameable face on the other side of a video call.

"Hey, Cameron," the man said. He smirked conspiratorially. "I'm Joe Solomon. We met in New York two weeks ago."

Cammie’s vision cleared as she identified him. He was there for her second-to-last audition. Gallagher Girl.

Cammie suspected she was probably the biggest fan of Gallagher Girl on the planet. The majestic tale of Kat Donovan, teenage spy. Kat Donovan, covert operations master, queen of cover stories, femme fatale. She'd grown up dreaming of being her, dressing up every Halloween, imagining herself as the leading lady of GG. When the casting call went up and Abby called with the news, Cammie had never said yes faster.

"You remember?" Mr. Solomon asked.

Cammie snapped back to the present. She nodded, feeling an automatic smile rise to her face. “I remember. Sorry, I just got out of chemistry class.”

"Good to hear,” Mr. Solomon said with that smirk still on his face. "Well, we've been debating for awhile and studying your performances and we have some important news," he finished, sitting forward. 

Cammie recognized that tone. He was waving the bait in front of her. 

She didn't dare hope. 

She didn't dare breathe.

"We'd like to offer you a part."

Her eyes blew wide. Cammie bit down hard to hide her smile. 

“Wow, thank you so much!” she gushed, her voice trembling with excitement. “I can’t wait.” 

Her entire body felt like it was on the edge of collapse. She couldn’t breathe at all. Cammie bit the other side of her lip. At the same time, her long-suffering belt loop finally frayed and came loose in her hand. She had nothing to distract herself with. Cammie breathed in, lungs hardly able to resist hyperventilating.

Joe’s smile grew when he spoke at last. “We'd like to offer you the part of Kat Donovan.”

Cammie felt the world outside that room space condense. Cammie Morgan didn’t exist anymore. Not really.

Cammie’s mind did donuts around the name. Kat Donovan. The princess with a pistol, known for her ferocity and wit, notorious for her skill as a pavement artist and at disappearing. She knew just how to slip away inside a crowd and she had a perfect sense of direction. She was brilliant and funny and ingenious, everything I’d always wanted to be.

Cammie’s hand clapped over her mouth. 

The office staff watching from the door let out a collective chuckle.

She looked back at the computer monitor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Solomon.” 

Even though she tried to suppress it, her voice trembled a little, and Cammie hoped he didn’t notice.

Solomon nodded curtly.

Cammie wondered if he was used to telling people their dreams had come true. 

“Can’t wait to see you again, Cammie. We’ll be in touch. And call me Joe.”

The green light on the webcam clicked off, at long last, and Cammie finally breathed again. The office staff came in and showered her with praise. Cammie could barely say her thank-yous fast enough before her mom swept her out of the school.

“Mom, wait--” Cammie protested idly, “it’s barely one o’clock, I’m going to miss seventh period.” 

Rachel turned to Cammie with a hand on her hip, one perfect eyebrow raised indignantly. “Cameron Ann Morgan, I think your calculus homework can wait until tomorrow.” 

Cammie smiled. The revelation beat in her head in harmony with her pulse. Kat Donovan. Kat Donovan. Kat Donovan. 

Once Cammie was in the car, her mom finally got down to business. “You know this isn’t going to be all fun and games, right, Cam?” she asked.

Cammie could tell she was nervous. Since Cammie’s father died, her daughter was all she had, and everyone’s heard the stories of child stars that burn out too fast and go off the rails. Cammie was still in the danger zone, being seventeen, and Rachel was all too aware of that.

Cammie crossed her legs in the seat of the car, watching Lifton High School from the outside. Inside, people just like her were studying, worrying about homecoming dates.

Meanwhile, Cammie was sitting in her mom’s car and trying to superimpose the identity of Kat Donovan over her boring life. She replayed the conversation with Solomon-- Joe-- that sparkled against the backdrop of every other memory she had. It was the kind of moment that she missed even though it was still happening, like late restaurant nights with her best friends and ice cream in the summer. 

“I know, Mom.” After a second of considering it, Cammie added, “I can refuse it, if you want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rachel said without hesitation. “This is your moment, Cam. I’m not going to take it from you. I just don’t want you to lose track of the good girl I know you are.”

Cammie loved her mom. She was everything Cammie wanted to be, but Cammie knew she wanted to do so much more than she had. She changed after Cammie’s father died. They both did. 

“Baked Bear?” Rachel suggested, changing the subject. 

The Baked Bear was the greatest thing to ever hit that side of Tennessee, and Cammie had spent way too many nights sitting in the neon-lit window with her friends and pigging out on ice cream. 

Cammie smiled to herself. “Baked Bear.” 

Her phone buzzed in her lap. 

UNKNOWN: Hey, Cammie. It’s Joe. Just clarifying-- no one can know about your casting until the information gets released. You’ll be getting an email regarding when read-throughs and filming will get started. See you then.

Cammie grinned again. She thought she must look like an idiot. She saved his number and texted back.

CAMMIE: Gotcha. When will the list get released?

JOE: You’ll know.

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Chapter Text

Cammie couldn’t say she slept well the night after Joe called. Rosewood had been one thing, but Gallagher Academy was another entirely. She didn’t know what she had that someone else didn’t. She couldn’t place what about her boring blondish hair and grayish eyes had drawn someone to think she was the incredible Kat Donovan. On one hand, she was flattered. On the other, terrified. 

After four hours of unsuccessfully laying in her bed, tossing about in search of a comfortable spot on the mattress, she gave up. Cammie grabbed her phone from where it was charging on her bedside table and got up, wrapping her worn-out fleece blanket around her shoulders. 

The hardwood floor was chilly beneath her bare feet. With her mom asleep downstairs and every light out, the house felt a bit surreal. The normally sunlit hallways were soaked in shadows. The night lights downstairs cast odd shapes of light up the walls and stretched the shadows of lamps and furniture into deformed stripes of darkness.

Cammie went to the kitchen. The glowing clock above the stove read 2:15 am. She flicked on the light and winced when the world washed with brightness again. She filled her favorite glass with water and took a seat at the kitchen island. She had a new text message.

UNKNOWN: hey, is this cameron morgan? my name’s bex, i got your number from brooke henley.

Brooke Henley was a production manager on Rosewood , and she wasn’t known for leaking numbers to just anyone. Cammie saved the number, even if it was just going to get lost in her ever-expanding contact list. Oh, the price of fame. 

Still, Cammie wasn’t sure who Bex was, and she hesitated before replying. What if she was a smear artist, someone whose entire goal in life was to dig up partially-true dirt on rising celebs and make them look like total scum? 

Not that there was much about Cammie to smear. She was practically invisible.

CAMMIE: Yeah, this is Cammie. Who are you?

It didn’t occur to her until after the text was sent that, soon, she wouldn’t be invisible anymore. It was only a matter of time until the cast list was posted. Until there were people who would only know Kat Donovan because of Cammie Morgan. 

Cammie’s phone buzzed. Apparently, Bex was still up.

BEX: i was in mini-i5, one of brooke’s other projects. she mentioned you once or twice, and i thought i’d say hi. i don’t know anybody else in gg.

The second Bex said Mini-I5, Cammie’s heart nearly punched right out of her chest. The singular ‘Bex’ was none other than Rebecca Baxter, one of the brightest rising stars there was. She was seventeen and held her own next to Emily Blunt in her last movie.

Anybody else? Bex was in Gallagher Girl, too?

Cammie's heart raced. She didn't know how Bex had found out she was on the cast list, too. Maybe not everyone had obeyed the rule of silence as strictly as Cammie, but Bex was a Baxter. She could get away with it. Cammie had to carefully craft her next response to Bex, now that she knew who she was speaking to.

She turned off auto-capitalization. It was only on for when she had to be professional, and Bex had hers off.

CAMMIE: i’m still trying to get my head around all of this. i don’t know anyone else either, at least not personally. 

Cammie bit her lip after sending the text, debating if it was uncool to double-text. Eventually, she decided it was worth the risk. 

CAMMIE: want to meet up and grab coffee? that way we’ll at least have each other when production starts.

Luckily, Bex didn’t take long to respond.

BEX: yeah, but i’m in the middle of nowhere until the end of the weekend. 

Cammie furrowed her brow. 

CAMMIE: where?

BEX: someplace called southaven, visiting my cousins. you?

Southaven. That was only an hour away. Cammie’s lips quirked up into a smile. And Bex thought she was in the middle of nowhere.

CAMMIE: memphis.

BEX: omg

BEX: know any good places? i’ll buy

Coffee in Memphis with Rebecca-- Bex -- Baxter?

It wasn’t even a question.

Cammie’s rational mind chimed in at that. Getting coffee was definitely a question if she factored in the paparazzi presence. Bex Baxter was in high demand, so she would definitely have some people on her tail. When the cast list dropped, Cammie probably would, too.

So far, she’d only dealt with a few small-time guys crashing junior prom right after Rosewood premiered on Netflix. She wouldn’t know what to do if she was faced with a swarm like what she’d seen around the Baxter family.

But Bex would.

CAMMIE: there’s a killer spot called russet about halfway between us

Cammie sent her the location. She’d frequented the spot since middle school.

BEX: looks awesome

BEX: wear something with blue and gray. gallagher pride, right?

Gallagher pride.

Cammie finished her glass of water and returned upstairs. The cast list hadn’t even been released yet, and she was already living a new life. She knew something now that she certainly hadn’t yesterday-- Bex Baxter was a double-texter.

TWITTER

CandieBuzz said: Sisters of Gillian, hang onto your earpieces: The GG movie cast was just released. See it here! [ LINK ]

majestictales said: DFSJLDFAFSHULDFHLDFKJLDFKJL IT’S HAPPENGING HOYL SHITH

katiefinley said: perfect casting! can’t say i’ve seen any of cameron or elizabeth’s previous works, but i’m sure they’ll do fantastically!

wouldyoulikeadoctor said: IM SCREAMING HIFY FUCK

soonermagic said: LORD ALMIGHTY I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS SINCE I WAS ELEVEN AND I CAN’T CHOOSE ANYONE BETTER TO PLAY DAVIS I’M DEAD

KatelynToncey said: Hmm… although I’m a fan of Rebecca and Macey, I don’t think that I’ve ever heard of Elizabeth and I didn’t like Cameron in Rosewood. Hope this wonderful book doesn’t suffer an awful fate at the hands of one-dimensional acting.

scallisondilaurentis said: HOLY SHIT holy shit HOLY SHIT holy shit HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIT

tardistantrum said: hi i sign up for cammie i stan her now bye social life

Chapter Text

At 12:53 pm, Cammie was sitting at a counter at the back window of Russet, bouncing her leg to try and shake out some of the nerves that she couldn’t seem to contain. The anxiety started in her chest, then moved down to her knees (that’s when that leg started bouncing) and all she could hope was that the nervousness stayed down there, far away from her mouth. She didn’t want to turn into a chatterbox the first time she spoke to the coolest person she’d ever met.

Cammie’s social media notifications had been off ever since she booked Rosewood , but she was grateful for that now more than ever. Looking at the sheer amount of activity rolling in from every public platform was dizzying. 

The cast list had been released just before she woke up this morning. Two thousand new followers on Instagram. Three thousand on Twitter.

Cammie almost wished she hadn’t suggested a coffee shop, since she was already shaking so much from adrenaline and anxiety that caffeine could make her implode. She felt like she’d been there for hours, though she knew she only got there ten minutes early. Bex wasn’t the kind of person to rush, either, and Cammie wouldn’t dare text to ask her when she was going to get there. Cammie could pretend to be as laid-back and relaxed as Bex was.

That facade was only gonna last five minutes, tops, but it was worth a shot. For the first time in a while, she was actually eager to impress someone.

“Cammie?”

Cammie turned around to face the side door, and there she was. Rebecca Baxter, curls hardly contained in a baby blue satin scrunchie, vintage-looking denim jacket settled comfortably over her lithe shoulders. She was the prettiest person Cammie had ever seen in her life, even in person. It was strange to see her out of character. She wasn’t just real , she was standing three feet in front of Cammie in probably-Gucci slides and slinky black leggings. Cammie hoped she was wearing makeup, because having skin that clear should’ve been a crime.

She realized after an awkward pause that she needed to answer. “Yeah, hi. You’re Bex?”

Cammie knew who she was. Bex knew she knew who she was. Everybody who didn’t live under a rock knew who she was, but not everyone got to call her Bex. Maybe that was why she smiled.

“Glad you made it,” Bex greeted Cammie with a perfect smile.“I heard the highway was a complete mess around noon.”

“I left early,” Cammie admitted, and immediately realized how heavy her accent was. Bex spoke like a princess, and Cammie didn’t even realize it until she said ‘early’ and the ‘r’ sound became ugly. She never noticed her own Midwestern twang before now.

Bex tilted her head towards the line, and Cammie stood up from her stool before she even had to explain what she was asking. At her eagerness, Bex smiled even more. “Have you ordered yet?”

Embarrassed by how gross her voice sounded in comparison to Bex’s, she just said, “Yes,” and hoped she didn’t sound rude. She could listen to Bex talk for hours, with no interruptions. It was just that, if voices were colors, Bex’s was Tiffany blue and Cammie’s was muddy brown.

“The apple spice muffins are glorious ,” Cammie said.

“God, that sounds great,” Bex said, letting her dark eyes roll back in her head with delight. 

Cammie nodded excitedly. “I know, right? I wish Clare would expand her business, but I’m glad she doesn’t. It wouldn’t be special anymore if just anyone could know the beauty of an orange zest mocha.”

“An orange zest mocha?” Bex repeated in awe. “That sounds delicious, I’ll have one of those, too.”

Cammie had never heard anyone say ‘orange’ as a two-syllable word before.

Cammie hoped Bex liked this place. She was smirking at her with that notorious glint in her eye, and Cammie thought disappointing her could be the worst mistake she could possibly make. She didn’t notice anything was wrong. If she did, she didn’t react to it. She was an actress, after all, so Cammie had no real way of knowing whether she could tell Cammie was a loser or not. 

Cammie looked around to see if anyone had taken notice of them yet. There were hardly a dozen people in the warm little shop, and none of them seemed to recognize Bex, which was a miracle in Cammie’s book. She was the brightest rising starlet in Hollywood, according to every gossip magazine the girls at school read.

Then again, who was looking for starlets in Southaven?

Bex was turning away, already ordering herself an orange zest mocha. Bex’s hair wafted the smell of her perfume in Cammie’s direction. The scent was a simple vanille, but accentuated by something woodsy. 

There were about four baristas working the counter, and Cammie watched as two of them prepared their drinks. A girl with clouds of blonde, curly hair, did a comical double take.

Cammie guessed she was the first to realize who her customers were. 

Bex offered the blonde barista a smile, and the girl’s dark eyes sparkled with glee before she turned away to hide her reddening face.

“I love places like this,” Bex said, only loud enough that Cammie could hear her. “A revolving door of teenage employees. They’re the only ones who recognize me.”

“How?” Cammie asked, more than a little awe in her voice.

Bex looked at her with amusement dancing across her expression. “Surprise, surprise, but I’m not a big hit with the baby boomers. The politics are apparently a turn-off.”

Cammie rolled her eyes before she could think better of it. “What, are you supposed to be a Barbie doll or something? You’re allowed to have opinions.”

“I do. Quite a lot of them, actually. For example, I hate gossiping, but--”

“Orange zest latte for,” the blonde barista called, then looked both ways and dropped her voice to a lower volume, “Bex?”

The girl said Bex’s name the same way a kid told Santa what they wanted for Christmas, like it was a special breed of secret. Her cheeks were still cherry red.

“Thank you, darling,” Bex said, giving her that show-stopping smile. The girl, whose name tag read Anna , looked like she was on the edge of fainting. Cammie didn’t think she even saw her. If she did, she didn’t think as highly of her as she did of Bex.

She didn't mind. In fact, it was pretty relieving to be able to rely on being nondescript whenever the world seemed out to see her and be seen by her. Cammie had taken more pictures of her Rosewood costars with their fans than she’d actually been in them. It was a running joke on set that she was secretly invisible, and it looks like she was going to continue that tradition.

Anna smiled again, all rosy cheeks and slightly crooked teeth. “I’m so sorry, but can we-- I don’t know. Is it okay if we take a selfie?”

“Of course!” Bex chirped. “Come on, Cammie,” she said, then took her hand and pulled Cammie with her around the side of the counter. 

Cammie’s heart tried to pole vault right up into her mouth. Being included in things wasn’t something she was incredibly used to.

Now that Bex had said her name, Anna’s eyes were on Cammie. There was a split second of thought before she lit up all over again. “Oh my god, you’re Cameron Morgan-- I literally love your show so much, my mom and I binge-watched the whole thing together over summer. You’re so cool!”

Cammie’s lips parted in surprise. She laughed a little as Bex led her around the side of the counter to stand beside Anna, who was practically vibrating with excitement. 

I had to break the illusion. “Thank you, but I’m so not--”

“Damn right, she’s cool,” Bex replied before Cammie could finish. “That’s why we’re having a sleepover tonight.”

“We are?” Cammie  asked, at the same time Anna inquired, “You are?”

“We are,” Bex answered both of them, then let her gaze dart toward Cammie’s. “Unless you’re busy.”

Who in their right mind was too busy to have a sleepover with Bex Baxter?

“Nope,” Cammie decided.

Anna’s eyes were about ready to pop out of their sockets as she watched the pair of them, and Cammie was sure it was mostly due to Bex’s presence. Everything she did was automatically cool.

Bex looked to Anna and extended a graceful hand, the one that wasn’t holding Cammie’s. 

She hoped to god her palm wasn't clammy. 

“I’ll take it on your phone?” Bex asked, and Anna eagerly complied, pulling a pastel yellow phone from the front pocket of her apron. 

Bex opened the front camera and turned toward the natural light filtering in through the windows, and Anna and Cammie mimicked her.

“Hang on,” Bex said, swapping places with Anna so she was in the middle. 

The barista’s hair smelled like espresso. Bex and Cammie bookended Anna, who couldn't have been more than five foot three, and in the camera Cammie could see the pure delight in the girl’s eyes.

“Ready?” Bex asked, and Anna and Cammie nodded. “One, two, three--”

Bex took a few photos of the three of them smiling, then instructed them all to ‘mean mug’, which apparently meant to look simultaneously pissed off and super-hot (her definition, not Cammie’s). They even took a few silly ones, and even making ugly faces, Bex was ridiculously pretty. When Bex returned Anna’s phone to her hands, she cradled it like it was the holy grail. Anna babbled out an excited thanks to them both, and she definitely saw Cammie now.

Now that she was thinking about it, everyone did. After the selfies and Anna’s eagerness, more people were looking up. They were recognizing Bex, and then recognizing Cammie. Cammie could’ve been nuts, but she thought they saw more than just a random girl beside the starlet. 

She wasn’t invisible anymore, and it was a little bit fun.

CANDIEBUZZ

BREAKING: GALLAGHER GIRLS’ LEADING CAST RELEASED!

The thrilling teen literature sensation hit the shelves six years ago, but only this spring have rumors begun to circulate about its adaptation to the big screen. Sure enough, those rumors were confirmed over summer, and shortlists for cast favorites began appearing all over the Internet. It seems everyone was vying for the opportunity to be an iconic Gallagher Girl or Blackthorne Boy, but only a lucky few walked away that day with the fate of seeing their name in Gallagher Blue lights.

Today, the cast was announced in one fell blow by executive producer Joseph Solomon, and the internet exploded. Without further ado:

Kat Donovan…………………Cameron Morgan

Davis Burnstone……………...Zachary Goode

Lacey Lundy...……………….Rebecca Baxter

Jessica Price………………….Elizabeth Sutton

Bailey Dorian………………...Macey McHenry

Harrison Bradley……………..Grant Dodson

Luke Ketcherston……………..Jonas Cooper

Oliver Dunne………………….Preston Winters

You might know our leading lady, Kat Donovan, from her iconic role as Sheridan Kane on Netflix’s Rosewood. Attendance at Gallagher Academy is a bold departure from the ice rink, but we’re excited to see her potential.

Opposite her is everyone’s dream boy, Davis Burnstone, set to be portrayed by the gorgeous Zachary Goode. Everyone who’s read the books had that on their fantasy cast list, so it’ll be a delight to see what Davis brings to the role he’s so obviously made for. 

Among the supporting cast are A-listers Rebecca Baxter and Preston Winters, both of whom have stunned us with their talents on the silver screen before. Both are reliable contenders for standout roles in Gallagher Girl. Baxter’s sure to astound us all as everybody’s favorite charm-school dropout Lacey Lundy, and Winters will look great in a Blackthorne uniform.

Grant Dodson and Jonas Cooper both rose from fan-favorite roles on Elderwood , so we’re excited to see them reunited after the bloodbath of last season claimed both their character’s lives (RIP Jeremy and Aaron).

As for Elizabeth Sutton, she’s a blank IMDB page. Rumor is, she’s from Texas, where she snagged the eye of a casting agent as a high school musical. What a dream!

Last up is the infamous Macey McHenry. Do we even need to explain? Regardless, she’s an interesting addition to the cast list. We’ll see how that plays out.

What’s your stance on the faces to match the names we grew up loving? Leave your opinion down below.

DeeDee Silver, September 18th

Chapter Text

The next weekend, Cammie was in San Jose. But tonight, she found herself not at a coffee shop, but in a lavishly decorated living room at Bex’s place. 

Her house was no mansion, but it didn't take a genius to see that it cost more than both Cammie’s childhood homes combined. While somewhat compact, it was classy; the ceilings were vaulted, there was a colorfully glowing pool outside, and Bex’s room was in what she referred to as a turret. 

While Cammie had rarely been somewhere so casually cool, she didn't feel out of place in the slightest. Bex had a way of making everything seem like it belonged the way she'd orchestrated it, and Cammie was surprised to be completely at ease on Bex’s cushy white living room couch.

“So yeah, I guess it’s lucky that Aunt Abby had the Palo Alto house. She was about one mortgage payment away from selling it before I snagged Kat. It’s handy to be here for publicity and stuff,” Cammie finished.

Bex had one of those mermaid sequin pillows in her lap, and she dragged her graceful fingers across its surface as the girls talked. “I mean, yeah, but you could’ve always just stayed here with me. It would be like an endless sleepover.”

Cammie couldn't help but smile at the thought. Two months ago, she would’ve nearly crapped her pants at the thought of hanging out with Rebecca Baxter, let alone referring to her as Bex. Bex was so much cooler than her. Cammie could still hardly believe she wanted to spend time outside the movie with a boring, unnoticeable girl from Tennessee. Even if she was just using her as a duff, Cammie didn't mind. She was still fangirling on the inside.

Cammie took a sip of water and shrugged. “That would’ve been cool too. But we’ll still get a chance to do that when production starts.”

She furrowed her manicured brows. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, Cammie was afraid her information was wrong. “I saw in the email that when we go to set, we’re all getting housed in one of those suite hotels. We’ll be able to hang out in each other’s rooms whenever we want.”

Bex nodded, understanding. “Yeah, that makes sense. Mini was the same way. I’m just awful at reading emails and actually retaining the information,” she giggled. “If I’m expected to remember anything, it needs to be in a text. Otherwise, it’s in one ear and out the other.”

Cammie couldn't help but crack a smile at the way Bex said ‘other’ like ‘oth-a’. 

Bex noticed her amusement and, smiling, asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Your accent catches me off guard sometimes,” Cammie admitted, shaking her head at her own, noticeable in contrast to Bex’s. Cammie sounded distinctly Midwestern, which was something of an improvement from the Tennessee twang she had as a kid. “You remind me of a princess or something.”

Bex looked away, somewhat embarrassed, then looked up with a penetrating stare. Her expression hardened, dimples disappearing, and she said, “I’m not a princess. I’m the daughter of the most dangerous spies in Europe, and I’m going to save my friend, even if I have to kick all of your asses to do it.”

Cammie nearly choked on her water, pointing at her excitedly. “That was Lacey!” Her voice sounded a bit wild with her elation, but she hardly cared. For a moment, Cammie wasn’t sharing a couch with Bex, but with the coolest character in Gallagher Girl , and Cammie saw her come to life in Bex’s capable hands. She was going to kill it as Lacey.

Bex broke out of the mask and laughed. “You bet. I read the books after I got cast, and I’m pretty flattered to take Lacey on. I just hope I don’t ruin her.”

Cammie shook her head vehemently. “No way, dude. I read the series seven times. That, right there, was spot-on Lacey. You’re going to nail it.”

Bex smiled at her, all straight white teeth and sparkling dark eyes, but the doorbell rang before she spoke again. She looked over at it for a moment, scowling, then her expression brightened and she leapt up. “She’s here!”

Cammie stood up, too, if only because she was mimicking Bex. “Who’s here?”

Bex looked at Cammie, biting her lower lip to conceal a smile, then went for the door. There was a whole gate system around the house, so it wasn’t just a rando. Who would’ve been let in, but had to ring the doorbell?

Cammie followed Bex to the door, lingering behind her by a step or two. The glass panes in the door warped her vision person on the other side, but Cammie saw blonde hair and a face illuminated by a phone she was texting on. 

Bex opened the door, and the girl looked up, blue eyes immediately going wide as dinner plates. Cammie didn’t recognize her, but the stranger sure recognized Bex, as a smile like the sun bloomed across her face.

“Rebecca Baxter.” It wasn’t a question at all, more like a statement, like she was proving to herself that this was indeed who she was looking at. 

Bex smiled, extending her arms for a hug. “Elizabeth Sutton,” she repeated in the same tone.

That made Elizabeth laugh, and she came in for the hug. Her cheeks were red, and Cammie thought she might’ve been on the verge of tears, but she held it together as Bex hugged her.

Now that Camme heard her name, she know exactly who Elizabeth was. Cammie read with her during callbacks, and she heard later it was their chemistry that secured Elizabeth her role. She was the girl next door who got a role in the biggest movie of the year. Elizabeth Sutton, the total unknown cast as Jessica Price. She was the second-most controversial member of the cast, behind the obvious talking point of Macey McHenry.

Bex released Elizabeth and closed the door behind her. The whole time, Elizabeth couldn't pry her eyes away from Bex, and she looked like she was about to burst with adoration.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Liz, but I totally forgot to tell Cammie you were coming,” Bex apologizes to both of us.

That was when Liz noticed Cammie, and she went into a whole new round of excitement. “Oh my god, you’re Cameron Morgan,” she gushed, surging forward to hug her, too. 

Cammie wrapped her arms around Liz’s skinny form, her hands coming into contact with a worn-out blue Jansport backpack with a toothbrush nearly falling out of the front pocket. 

With her cheek still pressed against Cammie’s shoulder, Liz murmurs, “You’re Kat Donovan.”

She could probably feel Cammie’s heartbeat accelerate. Hearing other people say it still gave her a thrill. She kept forgetting that it was real, and to people who never read the books, she would be the only Kat Donovan they would ever imagine. Cammie was the cleverest and the strongest and the bravest heroine in the world, with the best friends a spy could ever ask for.

Liz released Cammie, and her gaze was drawn back to Bex like she was magnetic. “You guys are so cool,” she says with a half-smile. “Everybody at my school freaked out when your selfie at the coffee shop showed up on Twitter. You guys are so perfect.”

Bex and Cammie laughed, both of them shaking our heads. 

“Far from perfect,” Bex said. “I made a quick escape after that because I didn’t ask for coconut milk in my latte and I nearly shit myself.”

“You what ?” Cammie exclaimed, just as Liz laughed so hard she snorted.

Bex, giggling, waved them over to the living room. “Hey,” Bex said to Liz. “We should all take another selfie and really freak out everybody at your school.”

Liz looked like she could die on the spot. “Oh, my gosh, can we?”

Bex beamed. “Obviously! Come here, Cam!”

Cammie sat on the arm of the comfy chair Liz was seated in. Bex mirrored Cammie and leaned her cheek on top of Liz’s head, and Cammie followed her lead. Liz was in the center, cheeks pink and eyes bright. They took a few pictures, changing poses every so often. 

When Bex was done, she looked toward Liz and asked, “Okay, blondie, what movie are we watching?”

Liz looked up at her in surprise. “Wait, me? I’m picking?”

“Yes, you, you’re the guest,” Bex said, moving back to her spot on the couch.

“Hey,” Cammie protested, but Bex waved her off with one hand. 

Cammie sat on the other side of the couch and pretended to sulk.

Liz looked back and forth between them, still seeming afraid of her new friends. Cammie understood why she was freaked out by the inimitable Bex Baxter, but she wasn’t on that level. She was just a small screen graduate and, more often, a high school student struggling to get through AP chemistry.

“I’m really okay with anything,” she said, and Cammie recognized the Southern accent in her tone. It was faint, but present, and Cammie was relieved to know that Jessica’s movie counterpart wouldn’t have a ridiculous, dramatized Southern drawl like Cammie saw all the time in Hollywood.

“Okay,” Bex shrugged. “Who’s up for IT ?”

“No!” Liz and Cammie exclaimed in unison.

Liz was so passionate about the rejection that she actually sat up. “No, I can’t do the clown thing. Abso-freaking-lutely not.” Her blue eyes were so big that it looked like she expected her friends to force her to watch it anyway.

Bex sat up too, holding her hands out like she was calming a spooked animal. “Okay, I was joking. You can breathe.”

Liz did, reluctantly, and Cammie decided to extend an olive branch.

“I don’t like clowns, either,” Cammie admitted, and Liz smiled at her gratefully.

Bex turned on the television and started clicking through Netflix. “Yeah, no. I’m sort of feeling like small-town drama and lies… how about this one?”

Cammie looked back to the screen to see her own face staring back at her, half-obscured by shadow. She was wearing a Peter Pan-collared dress, her hair done up like a ballerina. If it weren’t for the darkness surrounding her and the fake blood staining the collar of the dress from a hidden cut on her throat, the Cammie on the TV would be a Barbie doll. Beside the image, in stylized white font, was the word Rosewood .

Cammie cringed, covering her real face. “Oh, God, no,” I muttered.

Bex had no mercy, and she started reading the tagline in a dramatic, announcer-style American accent. “The sweetheart of Rosewood High School disappears, leaving behind only a bloody bouquet and a trail of questions. Newcomer Hadley sets out to uncover the truth, and soon discovers a web of lies may be able to save a reputation, but take a life.”

Cammie peeked out at Liz from between her fingers. “Is she done?”

Liz giggled and nodded. 

“Hey, Cammie,” Bex said, suppressing laughter. “Can you do the face?”

Cammie uncovered her face and looked between the television and Bex. “The Sheridan face?”

“That face.” Bex pointed at Cammie’s dramatically lit image on the screen.

Cammie rolled her eyes, but stood up, walking to the television. 

Liz was already giggling before Cammie even attempted it. She really was adorable.

“Like this?” Cammie asked, twisting her hair into a simple bun and looking back at Bex and Liz over her shoulder. Her face was tilted up, eyes staring at some unseen captor. Cammie had to hold this damn pose for about three years to get that cover shot, so of course she could do it on command.

Liz fell apart into giggles and Bex clapped her hands. 

“Yep, just like that,” Bex cackled. “All you need is a yellow dress and some fake blood.”

Cammie released the pose and turned to face them completely. “You know why the Sheridan dress was yellow, right?”

“No,” both other girls replied.

Cammie shook her head at the memory. “It was supposed to be pink. Pink dress, white collar, blonde hair, blood. That was the look they were going for.”

“That seems… weirdly familiar, though,” Liz muttered.

Cammie nodded at her, since she was exactly describing her point. “It’s kind of an iconic look, right? You’d remember it. And you do, but not because of me. Because Rosewood and Stranger Things went into production at the same time--”

Bex snapped her fingers. “She’s right, that is familiar! That’s Eleven’s outfit!”

“Yes!” Cammie agreed. “But it was supposed to be mine, if Rosewood hadn’t been so disorganized that Stranger Things shot that episode with Millie in the pink dress and the blonde wig before ghost Sheridan showed up in Hadley’s dream. They got dibs on the pink dress look, and I ended up in pastel yellow when I show up in Hadley’s backseat all creepy.”

Liz looked like she was dreaming. “I can’t believe you just referred to Millie Bobby Brown by Millie .”

Cammie shrugged. “I call Rebecca Baxter by her nickname. Life comes at you fast.”

Liz’s phone vibrated, and she squealed the moment she picked it up. “Bex!” She cried, holding up her phone to show me something.

Bex seemed very proud of herself and tossed her hair. “You’re welcome,” she joked.

Cammie saw what Liz was freaking out about. She hadn’t turned off her Twitter notifications yet, and when Bex tagged her in their selfie, the followers flooded in. Liz’s phone was opened to the photo of the three of them, and it was one of the candids Bex took while they were laughing. 

Cammie was slipping off her arm of the chair, so she was holding tight to Liz and half-laughing, half-squealing. Liz was giggling, and Bex was beaming like a princess. They were a little blurry, but it looked vintage.

Bex has captioned the photo, “Who said spies don’t have sleepovers?”

“Here, let me fix you up,” Bex said, reaching for Liz’s phone. “I’ll mute your notifications so your battery doesn’t drain too fast.”

Cammie sighed. “Yeah, Rosewood killed my phone in about ten minutes when I left it unlocked on the announcement day.”

Bex clapped a hand over her mouth, then removed it. “I have an awful idea.”

“I’m listening,” Liz said, sitting up attentively. 

Bex gave Liz her phone back, then glanced between us mischievously. “What if… we watch Rosewood --”

“No,” Cammie said before she even finished.

She continued. “--and drag it through the mud?”

Cammie sighed, and Liz giggled, but Bex held up a hand. She wasn’t done. “ And we watch, and drag, Mini-I5 .”

Cammie rolled her eyes at the suggestion. “ Mini was good, though.”

“I know. It was too good for me,” Bex laughed. “Need I remind us of how terrible my acting was circa 2014? I really don’t know how I got cast in anything at all.”

Liz snickered. “My friends and I like to reenact the death scene of Guardian Angel every time anything remotely upsetting happens.”

Bex flung herself back into the couch pillows, draping a hand over her forehead. She spoke in a whispery, high-pitched voice, just like the one she used when she played the sick daughter in the film. “Everything is tragedy,” she murmured in the exact kind of fake Southern accent Cammie hated. Liz joined her in reciting the lines, and the corner of Bex’s mouth twitched as she held back a laugh. “Everybody dies, and everything is sad. It’s okay that this is where I die, as long as you remember me as I was.”

“I say that every time I hit my funny bone,” Liz cackled. She could hardly breathe through her laughter. “How old were you? Eleven?”

“Twelve,” Bex corrected her, dropping her hand. “But I was playing an eight-year-old.”

Cammie raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You’re trying to tell me an eight-year-old would make those her dying words?”

She shrugged. “Melissa Rosenberg thought so. The book wasn’t actually that bad, though.”

“You read Guardian Angel ?” Liz asked in awe. “That thing is, like, eight years long.”

Bex seemed unfazed. “I had a lot of time on my hands when I was twelve.”

“When you weren’t shooting that Disney movie?” Cammie pointed out.

“Or modeling for the Gap,” Liz added.

Bex sat up and looked at the pair of them. “I should just hire you two to read my resume instead of printing it. We could save the rainforest.”

Cammie’s phone buzzed from where she had set it on Bex’s coffee table. Cammie sat down on the couch at Bex’s feet and checked it.

ABBY: did you see this?

That couldn’t be good. Cammie unlocked her phone to click the link Abby sent. Bex’s phone went off a moment later, and she checked it, too.

Liz moved to sit on the side of the couch closer to Bex, instead of in the armchair in the corner. “What’s up?”

The link took Cammie to a Tweet from Macey McHenry, only a few minutes old and already up to three thousand retweets. The picture was clearly a mimicry of the one Bex posted. In it, Macey sat in a fancy-looking armchair, looking perfect. Cammie didn't know how she recognized the girls sitting on either side of her, leaning their cheeks on top of her head, until she read their screen names and nearly choked. Macey was sitting snugly between Lottie Moss and Kaia Gerber. 

“Holy crap,” Bex muttered.

Holy crap was right. Liz came over to sit down beside Cammie, looking at her phone. Her cheeks paled when she read the Tweet.

Macey captioned the picture, “Who says supermodels can’t have sleepovers?”

Cammie was in the midst of trying to convince herself it was a laugh with them, rather than at them, when Bex scoffed. “Uh, no. I think not.”

“What is it?” Cammie asked, and she and Liz both scooted toward Bex. 

She held her phone out for both of them to see. Bex clicked back to Macey’s profile, where the fourth member of their onscreen girl gang had retweeted what Cammie was sure she considered a declaration of war. It was from one of her fan accounts, and it was both pictures side by side, captioned, “Chanel vs. Walmart”. 

Cammie, Bex, and Liz were the Walmart.

“Oh, no,” Liz whimpered, and Cammie reached over and squeezed her hand reassuringly. She smiled at me gratefully, then looked to Bex like she held all the answers. “Do you think she’s mad at me?”

Bex was typing furiously and couldn't answer, so Cammie took that question. “Maybe it’s just her sense of humor,” I attempted weakly. “She couldn't be mad at us for too long, we start production in four days. It’ll be pretty tough to keep up a rivalry while the four of us are working and living in close quarters for two and a half months.”

Liz nodded like she was agreeing to each word, so Cammie continued. “Anyway, it’s three against one. I’m sure we’ll win her over eventually.”

“Wanna bet?” Bex said, brown eyes wide.

Cammie looked back to her, her heart beginning to drop into her stomach with dread. “What do you mean?”

She held out her phone to Cammie, and it was the same tweet again. 

Cammie made a face, clearly not understanding. “Yeah, I know, it’s rude--”

“No, Cam,” she said, voice shaking slightly. 

Cammie had never seen her angry before. 

Her eyes are fiery. “Look at who retweeted it.”

Cammie looked closer, then clicked the profile that retweeted the comparison tweet. It took a moment to load, but when it did, Cammie was sure there had to be some mistake.

The account that was calling the three of them a downgrade was none other than Zachary Goode, Cammie’s movie boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Liz, while a really sweet girl, was a big fan of triple-texting. Cammie woke up on the morning she was scheduled to leave for the first PR shoot and read-through to her phone ringing, and she didn't have to check caller ID before picking up.

“Hello?” she asked, with the voice of a fifty-year-old chain-smoking cab driver.

“Cammie?” Liz chirped anxiously. “Hi. What am I supposed to wear? Bex isn’t answering my texts, I think she’s asleep, and I don’t want to look like the odd one out with you guys--”

Cammie pulled the phone away from her ear for a moment, checking the time. It was barely past eight in the morning. With a grimace, she returned the phone to her ear. 

Liz was still going. “--because if Macey hates us now, I don’t want to give her any reason to, you know, make fun of me. Or us.”

“Hey, Liz,” Cammie interrupted, pulling herself to a sitting position. Knowing she needed to get up and get moving didn't make actually doing it any easier. “Don’t get all freaked out over Macey. She’s just trying to mess with your head.” 

“Yeah? Well, it’s working,” Liz giggled nervously. 

Cammie sighed, running a hand through her mussed hair. It felt like a mess, but she would be all dolled up by a few professionals before any pictures were snapped. “Listen, you’re not going up against her by yourself. You’re gonna be with me and Bex, and it’ll be fine. She’s probably not even going to try anything.”

“Really?” Liz asked nervously.

“Really,” Cammie assured her. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Upon arriving at the event center, Cammie realized that it was definitely not going to be fine.

A horde of reporters were clustered around the walk up to the building. It’s the kind of venue where weddings and high school dances were held; not exactly the kind of place Cammie would have thought she’d step into the shoes of a spy.

The car at the front of the line stopped, and the right rear door opened. A delicate foot, clad in a burgundy brocade boot, emerged from the car, followed by the other. A head of kinky curls ducked out, shining in the late morning sun. As Bex stood and turned, Cammie caught a flash of her smile, and the cameras began to click at rapid-fire speed. She was wearing black skinny jeans and an ivory top that made her dark skin seem even more flawless than usual. Bex didn't stop to talk with anyone. She waved once with a smile, stepped confidently up the walkway, and disappeared into the building. 

The procession moved forward as Bex’s driver continued on. Next up, a boy with dark hair and a contagious, lovable smile, who Cammie recognized immediately as Grant Dodson, emerged. He had a modeling contract going with Abercrombie since forever. Grant was the kind of hot where he’d look right at home fighting in a Roman arena. Classically handsome, as Mom would put it. He smiled that trademark smile and trotted up the walkway like a show pony. He was wearing an expensive-looking crimson blazer over a dress shirt. Grant had a face worthy of boyband magazines. Cammie wondered if he had ever been nervous in his life.

Cammie’s car was next up.

Although Grant and Bex made their entrances look effortless, Cammie felt like she had  swallowed a hamster. She tried to focus on the fact that, once she was inside, she could sit down with Bex and Liz beside her and everything would be fine. Cammie knew that Liz was in the car behind hers, mostly because she was texting her about everything happening in front of them. Cammie checked the messages from the last few minutes, left unread because she was so shaky that her fingerprint wouldn’t work.

LIZ: how does bex look so pretty all the time

LIZ: i wonder if she’d let me borrow those shoes

LIZ: grant is just as hot in real life as he is in the ads

Isaac stopped the car, and Cammie felt her heartbeat jump up to double time. She looked out the window at the small crowd that had gathered to watch the cast come together for the first time. These people would watch, and then talk, and then the whole world would have opinions.

“You ready, Cam?” Isaac asked.

Cammie took a deep breath and let it out, counting as she went. Abby taught her how to do special anti-anxiety breathing in middle school, and it had always worked for her. Now, though, Cammie wasn’t sure if anything could calm her down. Still, if she had to be nervous, putting herself out in front of the whole world was a good enough reason why.

She opened the door.

Somebody Cammie didn't know yelled her name. The wind combed through her hair as she got out of the car, the air cool against her face. She didn't dare look back as she stepped forward, focusing on putting one foot after the other.

Like Bex did, Cammie waved and smiled. Flashes went off as she made her way toward the front door, questions hurled her way. Cammie didn't answer, and she barely even registered what she was being asked. She heard snippets of Kat and big screen and Solomon , but they bounced off her without a trace. This wasn't about them; she was here to start a new adventure.

As Cammie reached for the doorknob, her heart leapt in spite of itself. Even though she was terrified, she couldn't wait to see what lay behind that door. The rest of her life was in there. As she opened the door, Cammie looked behind her one last time, smiling a real smile. She lifted a hand in a final wave. The camera shutters clicked up a storm, and she turned away, stepping inside at last.

The door closed behind her, casting shadows of the wrought iron door across the fancy tile. The entry hall was decorated in shades of gold, crystal decorations gleaming in the light.

“Cammie!”

Cammie looked to her left to see Bex sitting in a stylist’s chair, waving at her reflection in the mirror. Before Cammie could even step towards her, someone’s hand landed on her shoulder, guiding me to the chair beside Bex’s.

“Nice to meet you, Cameron,” said the stylist walking with her. 

She wasn’t like any of the other stylists Cammie had; her chestnut hair was contained in a wavy ponytail, and she didn't actually look to be wearing much makeup herself. She seemed more like a second grade teacher than a makeup artist. “I’m Joan Abrams, but you can call me Joanie. Most people do. Would you prefer I call you Cammie or Cameron?”

“Cammie is fine,” she said with a shrug. 

Joanie sat Cammie in the chair beside Bex’s. Bex’s stylist was working some kind of mousse through her hair, so she couldn't look directly at Cammie, but she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue in the mirror. 

Cammie giggled, her gaze catching on a sketch taped to the edge of Bex’s mirror. It’s a sketch of her, but stylized like Lacey Lundy. Cammie’s pulse pounded like a kick drum. Right next to her, the princess of espionage was forming in a stylist’s capable hands, while Bex flipped through a book she pulled out of her purse.

Cammie looked at herself. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see Kat Donovan in her average-looking… well, everything. She studied the sketches on the mirror ahead of her, but there was no resemblance like she saw between Bex and Lacey. There was just Cammie in the mirror and Kat on the page.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Joanie said, gently combing her fingers through Cammie’s hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The door opened again, and in came Liz, looking a bit stunned. 

“Liz!” Bex exclaimed, actually turning around to face her. She waved eagerly, and Liz waved back, cheeks turning the color of Lacey’s skirt hanging on the costume rack.

Bex’s stylist playfully cleared her throat, and Bex reluctantly turned to face front again.

Liz scurried over to Bex, throwing her arms around her over the back of the chair. Then she spied the concept sketches. “Oh my god,” she whispered, still cheek-to-cheek with Bex. Her eyes were locked on the Lacey sketch. “You’re so perfect for Lacey,” Liz murmured.

“Okay, cutie pie,” said Liz’s stylist, practically dragging her away from Bex. “Time to get you turned into America’s sweetheart.”

With Bex on her right and Liz on her left, Cammie felt unstoppable. Even if Liz, ever the anxious, couldn't stop talking.

Jonas entered next, and Cammie exhaled with relief. He was dressed at the same comfort level as Liz and Cammie. She was just glad she wasn’t the only one with the wardrobe of a normal person. Jonas and his stylist appeared to know each other and were already chatting as they disappeared to the boys’ side.

Liz was chattering. “Cammie, I thought you said you were nervous, but you walked in like you’ve never been afraid in your whole life.” Her words poured out almost too fast for Cammie to understand her. “When you waved, right before you went inside, you looked like a princess. You looked… you looked totally Kat. It was awesome.”

“Are you tender-headed?” Joanie asked, and Cammie nodded to her.

Cammie offered Liz an appreciative grin. 

“Why were you nervous?” Bex asked. “All we did was walk in.”

“Yeah, walk in past a bunch of people taking pictures and yelling. I think I almost passed out,” Liz laughed. Her stylist was taking a comb through her cornsilk-blonde hair like it was made of butter, and Cammie realized while Liz was laughing that she was really pretty.

When she looked up at the design sketch for Kat, Cammie caught Bex’s reflection in her mirror for a split second. She was looking at Liz like she was the sun.

The second Cammie looked over to confirm the sight, Bex looked away, back at her reflection. Her curls were glossy and shining, and her stylist had moved on to her makeup. 

Joanie’s hands were still perfecting Cammie’s hair, but her touch was almost soothing. Cammie used to hate getting her hair cut because it tangled so easily, but it didn't seem to be a problem for Joanie.

“Hey, Cammie,” Liz whispered.

Cammie looked over at her, almost yanking out a chunk of hair that Joanie had twisted around a barrel curler. “What?” she asked at the same volume, trying to blink back the tears that sprang to her eyes.

Even though her stylist was in the process of applying blush to her lightly freckled cheeks, Liz’s reflection was pale. Her baby blue eyes were wide and fearful, like she was a spooked animal. Liz jerked her chin towards the door.

Following her gesture, Cammie looked in my mirror and saw, in the golden entryway, none other than Macey McHenry. She was wearing high-waisted black pants with a stripe of leather down the side, like a racing stripe. A white satin blouse was tucked into them, semi-unbuttoned, exposing a simple gold necklace Cammie knew for a fact cost more than her entire wardrobe. Macey’s black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, her bangs shining, her lips apple-red.

Macey was easily one of the prettiest people Cammie had ever seen in her life, and she was sitting beside Bex Baxter. Bex had a vibe like an ancient goddess of love or something. Macey, on the other hand, looked like she could and would murder me with the wings of her eyeliner.

“Didn’t they say to come barefaced?” Bex whispered as Macey, ignoring the efforts of her stylist, headed for the water table.

The three girls did their best to ignore Macey as she glanced into the makeup room for a moment. Cammie was sure it was very inconspicuous when, the second Macey disappeared around the corner, Bex and Liz dissolved into anxious whispers. 

“I don’t like her,” Bex declared.

Part of Cammie wanted to stand up for Macey, but she thought she agreed with Bex. And after last week’s great display of cast camaraderie, Cammie didn't feel that bad about it. Still, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to discuss Macey while she was in the next room. Bex and Liz didn't seem to mind, as they continued the discussion across Cammie’s chair.

Bex went first. “She looks like the kind of person who’d walk into Starbucks and take a cup somebody else ordered on mobile.”

“She looks like she might have murdered somebody before getting dressed this morning,” Liz hissed, sounding terrified.

Cammie held up my hands to silence both of them. “Cease-fire with the oddly specific insults. We already know she doesn’t like us, so why don’t we just try to extend an olive branch before declaring all-out war?”

They both appeared to think about it for a moment. In that moment, Joanie finished Cammie’s hair and set to work with her makeup. It was quiet while Bex and Liz consulted their respective consciences. Maybe the war could be averted.

“Nah,” Bex decided.

Liz shook her head. “She’d set the olive branch on fire.”

Cammie wasn’t that surprised that they were having more trouble with forgiveness than she was. Bex was used to everyone adoring her (for good reason) and Liz was vulnerable. She had never been in a world like this before. Cammie herself was more angry with Macey on Liz’s behalf than her own. 

“Okay,” she relented. “So it’s day one and we’re already making enemies.”

“Hi,” an excited male voice piped up from the hall. 

Behind Cammie, a boy who looked fresh off a debate team entered the makeup room. He smiled, and Cammie felt herself immediately warm to him. He looked sweet.

“I’m Preston,” he said. “I think some of you already know that, but I thought I should properly introduce myself.”

Preston was one of those rare kinds of boys who looked completely and utterly harmless. His cheeks were rosy, his smile was genuine, and, despite his button-up, Cammie felt like he wasn’t the type to mansplain. 

She decided she liked him. Friends were better than enemies, anyway.

“I’m Cammie,” she replied, awkwardly extending a hand over her shoulder for him to shake without getting in Joanie’s way.

Preston grinned even brighter when she responded to him, coming over beside her chair to shake her hand. “It’s nice to actually meet you, Cammie. I really liked Rosewood . I watched the whole thing in one weekend.”

“I’m sorry,” I joked, and we both laughed.

Liz extended her friendship next, recognizing a kindred sincere spirit. “I’m Liz. You were really good in Agenda last year, my mom’s a sucker for political dramas.”

Preston beamed. “Thank you, I had a great time making it. Grant Gustin is such a nice guy, I’d love to introduce you two.”

“And I’m Bex,” Cammie’s literal right-hand woman finished, turning her chair to face Preston. She was done already, her lips glossy and hair flawless. “I think we met at the Golden Globes two years ago.”

“We did!” Preston laughed. “You were the one who was silently competing with me for who could eat the most cocktail shrimp.”

“And I definitely won,” Bex declared, both of them laughing.

Cammie caught a glimpse of Liz, who appeared to have stopped functioning at the thought of having a mutual friend with Grant Gustin. 

“Anyway, I should get to my station,” Preston said, backing around the rows of makeup tables. “It was so great to meet you all, I’m so excited for this project!”

“At least somebody is,” said Macey, sounding bored. 

Cammie could’ve sworn the lights on the mirrors dimmed a little when she walked in.

Macey skimmed over the girls, unimpressed. Her lips were a dangerous red, and every word felt like a warning. “Personally, I think this is gonna be another ruin on the list of book-to-movie leaps.”

Preston approached Macey, and Cammie felt like she was watching a horror movie when the protagonist looked under the bed. 

He stepped up to her like he was fearless, extending a hand. “Hi, I don’t know if we’ve met. I’m Preston,” he smiles.

Macey didn't even look at him. “Congratulations,” she sighed, walking to the chair at the end of our row beside Liz. 

Liz was staring a hole in her concept sketch, desperately keeping her eyes off Macey in fear. Cammie felt the sudden urge to jump between Macey and the blonde girl, using herself as a human shield.

Meanwhile, Preston was still standing behind me, hand reaching into the empty air like he didn't know what to do next. Eventually, his expression fell, his hand retracted, and he waved goodbye to the three of us as he went on his way.

“I like your lipstick,” Bex began icily. She didn't need to specify who she was talking to; everyone knew.

“It’s Louboutin,” Macey muttered.

“I didn’t know they made lipstick,” Bex hummed, her voice much cooler than Cammie could ever manage while talking to someone like Macey.

Macey looked over at Bex like she'd said something amusing. “They do if you’re special.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Cammie saw Bex’s knuckles go white as they gripped the arms of her chair.

“Come on, Miss Baxter,” Bex’s stylist urged her, “let’s get you to wardrobe.”

Cammie thought if Bex stayed in that room a second longer, she might have gone full Mini-I5 on Macey. As Bex walked away, Cammie realized that she was the only line of defense between Macey and Liz.

“So,” Liz began, her voice shaky. “Is being a supermodel fun?”

Macey turned to look at her slowly, like she couldn't believe she was being addressed. “Sure is. How’s being a nobody? I hear you get lots of time off.”

Liz turned a shameful shade of red. Her stylist even made a face, but avoided making eye contact with Macey, who didn't seem to have a stylist at all. If she did, she probably already scared her off. 

Cammie’s cheeks flamed. “Hey, she’s just trying to be nice,” she protested, and Liz looked at her in surprise. 

Cammie wasn’t even done. She continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I get that you’re cooler than us, but you don’t have anything to prove. We know you’re god’s gift.”

“Everybody with half a brain knows that,” Macey agreed with a scarlet smirk, leaning forward to gaze into her mirror. She tightened her ponytail. “Which is part of why I’ve made it extra crystal clear to you.”

“Liz, let’s get you to wardrobe,” her stylist said, while Macey was preoccupied with Cammie.

Liz rose and scurried away like a scolded puppy. Cammie had never seen anybody so eager to leave a room.

Cammie didn't bother responding to Macey. Joanie was putting lipstick on her anyway, so she couldn't exactly talk. Cammie didn't let her eyes leave the concept sketches on the mirror of her as Kat.

“I think,” Joanie started, her soft tone contrasting with the tension-filled atmosphere, “I’m done with you.” She finished Cammie’s lipstick with a dramatic sweep, and Cammie was a bit disappointed to see herself in the mirror. Sure, her gray eyes were illuminated by eyeshadow and liner, her lips the perfect shade of nude-ish pink, her cheekbones sculpted; and yet, under all of it, she wasn’t Kat Donovan. She was, disappointingly, just Cammie Morgan.

Cammie smiled up at Joanie. “I love it.” 

She stood to go to wardrobe when, of course, Macey decided it was time to get on her nerves again.

“You look more like a freshman going to homecoming than a teenage spy,” Macey giggled cruelly, not even lifting her eyes from her phone. 

Cammie wondered who she was Chanel vs. Walmart -ing now. Where did she get off, tormenting people?

“Yeah?” Cammie asked, at the end of her patience. “Well, you look more like a insolent bitch than a supermodel, but I wasn’t gonna complain.”

Macey’s jaw dropped, her ice-blue eyes glaring into Cammie, but another voice interrupted before she could tear into her.

“Didn’t peg you for the catfight type, Morgan.”

Both Macey and Cammie looked toward the door to see the infamous Zachary Goode. He was predictably and annoyingly handsome, and the unfamiliar combination of anger and attraction swirling through Cammie’s chest dizzied her. 

He sauntered in and sat in Liz’s empty chair. He ignored Macey completely, his dark gaze locked on Cammie. “Guess I’ve got a lot to learn about you, don’t I?”

Cammie swallowed hard. “I guess you do.”

Chapter Text

“Look at her like she’s the most beautiful girl in the world!”

“This is already the most challenging job I’ve ever had.”

Cammie scowled at Zach as the photographer snapped pictures of them. They weren’t exactly in character, but they were supposed to prove to people that they fit the roles they were cast in. So while Cammie wasn’t dressed in Kat’s full private school uniform with a dagger strapped to her ankle, her outfit definitely evoked the idea. She sported navy blue plaid pants and a white crop top, her hair pulled out of her face and spilling over her shoulder.

Zach was the same way. He had been dressed like a classy young beau to remind people of Davis without being technically in costume. He looked good in the shade of sky blue they’d put him in, which Cammie hated to admit.

The longer the shoot lasted, the more sure she became that the photographer had no idea what Gallagher Girl was about. He kept posing Zach and Cammie as lusty and dramatic. 

For example, at that moment, they were standing together in front of a row of set blocks the same dark color as the backdrop. Zach’s arm was around Cammie’s waist, hand at the small of her back like they were dancing. He was gazing at her with his best attempt at lover’s eyes. Cammie was looking over her shoulder at the camera, trying not to appear as annoyed with him as she was. 

She was well aware that Zach was being framed as the center of attention, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. On the bright side, maybe that would get more hype going. He was hot. The two of them were supposed to get people shipping Kat and Davis before the movie trailers even dropped, but since Zach couldn't go two seconds without picking at Cammie, she didn't think it was going well.

Zach’s breath tickled her cheek. “Your mascara is clumpy.”

Cammie took her eyes off the lens to glare at him.

Click .

“Yeah, well you look like a Ken doll,” she countered. She realized too late that it was practically a compliment, although she hadn’t intended for it to be.

Zach smirked, and Cammie wanted to smack the smugness off his perfect face.

“What’s he supposed to be, Prince Charming?” Bex muttered, crossing her arms over her pink-cardigan-white-blouse situation. Cammie hadn’t seen her come in, since she was preoccupied with looking tolerant of Zach and his stupid godlike face. 

Bex was dressed in the same muted-preppy style as the rest of us, wearing a dark dusty-rose pleated skirt. Cammie knew they weren’t fully costumed, but Bex already looked exactly like how she’d imagined Lacey. Pink, girly, and totally kickass.

If Zach was a Ken doll, Bex looked like James Bond Barbie.

“You guys have to work with me here,” the photographer begged us. He was oddly sweaty, his visor stained from his perspiring (and balding) scalp. 

Cammie wasn’t sure why he was wearing a visor inside, especially since he wasn’t the one with the lights pointed directly at him.

“Cameron, you look like you can’t wait to get away from him,” the photographer pointed out, exasperatedly gesturing to Cammie’s posture. 

Since he stepped away from the camera, Cammie had subconsciously distanced herself from Zach, angling her shoulders a few inches away from him. Everything about her body language screamed that she was not a huge fan of the situation.

The photographer wasn't even done. He moved his finger of accusation to Cammie’s leading man. “And Zach, you look like somebody cooked fish in the office microwave.”

Liz giggled from behind Bex.

“I have an idea,” Cammie put in, well aware that the photographer might not have wanted her input.

Surprisingly, he opened his arms as if she was bestowing a blessing on him. “Speak, O Muse,” he beseeched her desperately.

Cammie couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Without warning, she simultaneously pushed down on Zach’s shoulder and kicked him in the back of the knee, forcing him to sit on the decorative block behind him.

Zach barely avoided falling flat on his butt when he landed unbalanced. 

Satisfied, Cammie perched on the block elevated beside his. She looked over at Zach, who wasn’t smirking in the same smug way that he usually did. For once, he actually looked surprised. A smile flowered on Cammie’s lips at the sight of him off-guard.

Click.

“Yes, keep doing what you’re doing,” the photographer encouraged them. 

Cammie took her gaze away from Zach, who was forced to look up at her from his lower position. Having gotten her way with a little physical force, Cammie finally felt a little like Kat. She tilted her chin up defiantly, and let the fan tousle her perfectly wavy hair.

“ Yes, ” Bex marveled, her voice growing excited. “ That’s what I’m talking about.”

Cammie felt Zach’s fingertips brush hers, and she looked over in surprise. His eyes were so full of fascination that she forgot to dislike him for a moment.

Click.

Their touching hands were obscured by Cammie’s crossed legs, angled toward him, her ankles crossed delicately. Cammie was sitting about six inches in front of Zach. He definitely wasn’t the center of attention anymore.

“Touch him,” a new voice put in.

Cammie looked up in surprise to see Macey, her hair no longer confined in a long pony. Instead, the top layer was pulled back into two mini-ponytails, the rest of it lightly waved. She looked like an edgy young hacker on a procedural cop show.

“So you’ve decided to help now?” Bex asked, sounding unimpressed.

Macey shrugged. “I do this for a living. Might as well share my wisdom, right?”

Somewhat reluctantly, Cammie removed her hand from beneath Zach’s. Touch him , Macey said, but Cammie didn't know how. All she could think to do was place her pointer finger under his chin, tilting his face up toward hers. Zach’s dark eyes glistened like river rocks in the bright light, a mixture of the sunlight streaming in the windows and the big, umbrella-like reflectors.

Click .

“You enjoying this, Gallagher Girl?” Zach asked, so softly that maybe only Cammie could hear him.

“I’m a very good actress,” she whispered back.

Click.

After a few more shots of the two of them, the photographer-- whose name, Cammie learned, was Mason-- invited Joanie to come touch up Cammie while they switched groups. Zach left without a word, leaving Cammie oddly unsatisfied.

She shook off the feeling while Joanie reapplied her lipstick, murmuring the whole time about how symmetrical her face was. When Joanie was done, she booped Cammie’s nose, and she couldn't help but smile.

At least, until she realized the situation she’d have to pull off next.

Standing immediately to Cammie’s left was Bex in her rosy glory. On the other side of her was Liz, looking like a deer in the headlights. Bex, noticing her nerves, nudged her wrist, and Liz gratefully took her hand.

Cammie’s heart would’ve been a lot warmer if Macey wasn’t flanking her on the right, standing a solid few inches taller than her. All Cammie’s confidence from the shoot with Zach evaporated in Macey’s presence. She made Cammie look even more average than she already was.

“All right, femme fatales,” Mason said, “can you look slightly less dead? For me?”

Liz giggled nervously at the tension-breaker, and Cammie finally saw Mason smile. “She’s got it down, not looking so corpse-y. Show me what you got, Miss Sutton.”

Liz, clinging to the affirmation, dramatically swept her blonde hair over her shoulder and pouted at the lens. Bex and Cammie laughed as the shutter clicked. That just got Liz going, and she began a truly comical series of supermodel impersonations that Cammie doubted Macey could top.

“Yes, ladies, give me something new. And Cameron, please do a better job pretending to like Macey. Mean mugs, go.”

By some stroke of bad luck, Macey and Cammie both fixed each other with their best wealthy-widow glares for a moment before looking back to Mason. Macey followed his instructions so well that Cammie understood why she made so much money doing this. 

Macey leaned her delicate forearm on Cammie’s shoulder, turning in toward her, mirroring Bex on Cammie’s left. Cammie looked up at Macey, wondering what she was doing with her face. Macey’s striking features no longer made her look as if she was ready to kill Cammie; instead, she appeared prepared to kill for her. 

Cammie found herself smiling, flanked by three girls she’d feel confident walking into battle with. A gust of wind, followed immediately by a loud clang, startled all of them. Bex whirled around beside Cammie like she was ready to spring into action.

“Oopsy daisy,” Liz said, her cheeks red as she looked at the fallen backdrop. 

By the looks of things, she had stepped a little too far back and pulled down the rod holding up the sheet of pale blue. A few set hands scurried over to begin repairing the scene as the four girls stepped away from the mess.

“I’m so sorry,” Liz gushed to Mason, freckled face flushed. “I didn’t realize how far back we were.”

“It’s all right,” Mason dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

Macey put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward. “We should do more stylized shots now,” she decided, like she was the one in charge.

Mason went goggle-eyed, realizing the Macey McHenry was addressing him. Cammie would be starstruck too if Macey wasn’t such a hard sell, personality-wise. Somehow, the rude attitude undercut the shine of Macey for her. Cammie couldn't admire Macey when she was being mean to her friends for no reason at all. 

“Okay,” Mason nodded. He was trying his best to keep it together in front of the supermodel. “Any ideas?”

Macey thought about it for a moment, and the room waited with bated breath for her response. Regardless of what Cammie thought of her, Macey did have an undeniable presence. 

Macey came to a decision. “Let’s have the three of us facing back, Cammie forward, our stances interlocked. It’ll look more on-brand.”

Cammie wasn’t totally sure what she meant, and Mason was a bit confused as well. 

Macey rolled her pale eyes and moved Liz into position first, then Bex, then Cammie, before adding herself to the lineup.

“Oh, yes ,” Mason murmured. “Set hands, clear out.”

Cammie noticed the backdrop was repaired as Mason snapped more pictures. Cammie was the only one facing the camera, but she was in the same united stance as the others. Liz’s left foot was locked behind Bex’s right, and Bex’s left was in front of Cammie’s. On Cammie’s right, Macey’s foot was settled right behind hers, all their legs entwined like puzzle pieces. 

Realizing the position really was on-brand for Gallagher Girl , like Macey said, Cammie whispered, “Have you read the books?” 

Macey scoffed and shot Cammie a look like she asked her if she was willing to share a Greyhound seat with an incontinent homophobe. “ No ,” she muttered, disgusted. “My time is money. I don’t waste it on reading.”

Cammie knew she couldn't fight her on that yet, but she really, really wanted to.

Mason was loving the look Macey created, but Cammie wasn’t quite convinced. She didn't feel connected like she thought she was supposed to. The girls were almost shoulder-to-shoulder, but something was missing. 

Bex and Liz might have had a point. Cammie swallowed her resistance and reached for Macey’s hand. She took it without complaint, but an expression of confusion wrinkled her flawless brow for a moment before she realized Cammie’s plan. Cammie almost caught her smile as Macey turned her head to look at her. Riding the confidence of Macey’s approval, Cammie joined hands with Bex next, and Bex linked with Liz.

Mason was snapping pictures at rapid-fire speed, occasionally directing a pair of them to look at each other. With the highest-paid supermodel in the world on her right and Hollywood’s darling on her left, Cammie should’ve felt humbled, but she didn't. Instead, she thought she would feel pretty confident pulling off a heist or starting a fight with those three-- or at least Macey and Bex. Cammie adored Liz, but she'd been there for under an hour and already broken something. Cammie trusted her more for planning ahead.

“Main cast,” Mason called before Cammie knew it, and Macey pulled her hand free.

The set assistants appeared again, pulling more rows of blocks into the frame. Cammie guessed they were making more space for all eight main cast members to sit. 

“Your palms are the clammiest I’ve ever felt,” Macey snipped. She made a show of wiping her hand on her dark wash high-rise shorts. She was showing the most leg out of any of us, and Cammie could see why; she was playing Bailey, the prom queen with a few tricks up her sleeve. Still, it was unfair to have her standing next to Cammie with legs that long. Macey still looked ready to strut down a runway, and Cammie would call her look more dress-code chic.

The four boys appeared, dressed in the same academic color scheme as the girls. Grant looked gorgeous under the lights, and Cammie had to remind herself that he was her co-star and not a poster on her wall to swoon over. Jonas was all dolled up, too, still as quiet as he appeared to be coming in. Preston shot a glance in Macey’s direction before literally cowering, and when Cammie looked back at her, she noticed Macey was glaring at him.

What a catch she was.

Last up was Zach, who was looking at Cammie like she was the only one in the room. She immediately focused her attention elsewhere, not wanting him to think she was searching for him. It didn't matter that she absolutely was. He didn't need to know that.

“Can we do awkward prom poses?” Liz asked, practically bouncing on her toes.

Mason blinked at her. “No.”

Preston laughed shortly, then stifled himself when he realized no one else was.

After a beat of silence, another voice. “I think we should do awkward prom poses,” Bex piped up, winking at Liz.

Liz beamed.

“Me too.”

It took Cammie a moment to pinpoint the speaker. She realized the new voice belonged to Jonas. 

He was smirking at Liz in amusement. “I think it would be funny,” he explained. “We’re trying to get people to like us, right?” Jonas was watching Liz carefully, measuring her reaction. 

Cammie suspected that, since he was playing her love interest, he was probably seeing just how much he would have to pretend to be in love with her. Liz was ridiculously adorable, so Cammie doubted it would be too hard.

Mason smiled awkwardly, shifting foot to foot. “Yes, but--”

Grant chuckled, earning a glare from Macey. “We could make this a thing . Awkward prom photos at conventions, for PR, whatever. Branding is just being memorable.” His voice, with a buttery British accent like Bex’s, was just as endearing as he was. He had a point, too. 

“I’m in,” Cammie said, leaning forward to smile reassuringly at Liz. “Everybody knows the Rosewood face.”

Bex, Liz, and Preston all struck the pose at once. Cammie laughed at the commitment with which Preston emulated her own dramatic expression while playing Sheridan.

A sigh from behind Cammie. “Let’s do it,” Zach shrugged.

Mason looked torn for a moment until his eyes settled on Macey, who had been unnervingly quiet. “Miss McHenry, what do you think?”

Everyone looked at her, knowing their fate of trending on Twitter rested in her manicured hands. She still looked completely and utterly bored of us. 

Cammie was beginning to think that was her default facial expression, judging by how much she wore it. 

Macey sighed at last and said, “Okay, but if we don’t commit to it, it’s gonna look stupid.” Realizing that didn’t sound mean enough for her standards, she added, “I mean, it’ll look more stupid than it already will.”

With Duchess McHenry’s seal of semi-approval, Mason was convinced. “All right. Couples, link up.”

Jonas held up a hand for Liz to high-five, and Bex whispered a victorious, “ Yes! ” 

Everyone migrated through the small crowd toward their respective opposites, some with more reluctance than others. Surprisingly, Cammie wasn’t the most resistant. She came second to Macey in that regard, as well as most others. 

Macey wrinkled her nose at Preston the second he got within five feet of her, and his face fell like he was a scolded puppy. 

Cammie felt terrible for him. It wasn’t his fault Macey had no idea how to communicate like a polite human being.

“Somebody’s not too keen on the buddy system,” Zach muttered. He had materialized beside Cammie while she was focused on Macey and Preston. 

Cammie couldn't help but exhale a quiet laugh at Macey’s expense as Preston suggested a few poses for them to try. She didn't even seem to be listening, preferring to look anywhere else in the room and keep her arms crossed. She had to get bored of being bored one day, right?

“I think we should kiss,” Grant said, loudly, to Bex. 

Her jaw dropped at his brazen attitude. She recovered after a moment, trying to restore her dignity. “I-- all right. Let’s do it.”

Smiling in surprise at Bex and Grant as they worked out the details of their smooch, Cammie was reluctant to refocus on her own pose. Still, she couldn’t put it off forever. 

“What’s the game plan?” she asked Zach.

“You have five seconds,” Mason said, clearly eager to get this over with. He probably expected more maturity from a bunch of teenagers, which was his first mistake. 

Zach’s smile was dark and mischievous. “Two words,” he teased me.

Cammie narrowed her eyes. “What two words.”

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. While he was that close, Cammie could smell his cologne-- not overpowering, but enough that she noticed. Enough that she kind of wanted to smell it more often, but preferably while keeping him in a chokehold instead of a kiss.

When he pulled away, she nodded, already starting to smile.

“Go!” Mason said.

We struck our terrible poses. Zach and Cammie turned so they were back to back, guns up, like he said. Charlie’s Angels. Cammie barely managed to keep her pout intact before she caught sight of Bex and lost her cool.

She and Grant were involved in a truly cringeworthy kiss. Their mouths were comically open, like they were models for the cover of a naughty adult romance book. Bex’s nose was smushed up with how hard she was kissing Grant, and his arms were wound all the way around her, dangerously close to her butt.

When Cammie started laughing, everyone broke character. Bex and Grant pulled apart. Cammie glanced behind her and saw Macey, her mouth agape with shock, and Preston laughing so hard his face was red. Liz and Jonas were even cracking up, although Cammie didn’t manage to catch what terrible pose they had taken.

Cammie was suddenly desperate to know how that turned out. “Can we see?” she asked, breathless with laughter.

Mason was trying, and failing, not to look humored. “No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. He shook his head like he was ashamed of us. “Nobody is ever seeing that.”

“Aww,” Liz lamented.

She didn't get long to mourn. “All right, back to business. One last, nice , photo of all of you, and then it’s off to table work.”

Cammie wasn’t dreading it anymore, though. The icebreaker of prom photos meant they had all shared a laugh, except maybe Macey, and now Cammie was excited to see where the rest of the day went. She remembered that she would soon get to see what she would be doing as Kat, and her heart did a little flip. Would they follow the plot of the first book? Or were they going off the beaten path?

“I want Cameron and Zach front and center,” Mason instructed us, “then give me Liz beside Zach, Preston next to Cammie. Back row,” he moved on, pointing to the empty spots from left to right, “Jonas, Bex, Macey, Grant.”

Macey was miffed to be in the back, but didn't say anything. They moved where they were directed, no longer as careful with each other. After all, two of them had already kissed, and they hadn’t even gotten their scripts yet. Cammie settled on Zach’s left. 

Macey kicked her sharply in the back, and Cammie jerked upright. Once she recovered from the pain enough to respond, she looked over her shoulder with a scowl. “What was that for?”

“You were slumping,” Macey shrugged, not a trace of shame on her perfect face.

Acutely aware of her posture and in a bit of pain, Cammie turned to face front again, crossing her legs towards Zach. He wrapped his arm around my waist. Cammie ignored the immediate urge to jerk away and leaned into him like they were the best of friends. 

After the last click of the shutter, Mason released them. After a brief trip back to wardrobe to put their street clothes on, the cast reconvened in the room typically used for reception dinners. Instead of round dining tables, a rectangle of plastic fold-out chairs and tables occupied the center space. Half-folded papers with names on them in black marker, with each actor’s character’s name below in quotations, denoted who was sitting where. About half the seats were filled already by people Cammie assumed were producers, screenwriters, and casting directors.

As the actors filed in, they mingled with the people who got them here. Cammie knew she was lucky. There were plenty of actresses just as talented as she was who’d been turned down for this. Somehow, Joe saw Kat in Cammie. All she could do was hope he was right. 

“All right, everyone,” Joe said loudly, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. 

Cammie was in the midst of talking to the screenwriter, who was mysteriously secretive about what she'd done with the original story. Both of them turned to face Joe as he spoke to them all.

“I’m glad you’re all finally meeting each other. It’s an exciting day for all of us,” he smiled at the crowd, but Cammie swore his gaze lingered on her. “Now, I hate to break up the fun, but I think it’s about time we get down to business.”

“He’s the one who was late,” Bex whispered, sending giggles through the horde of supporting actresses that flocked to her. 

Although Cammie had grown used to the idea of the face that launched a hundred teen magazine ads being one of her best friends, she thought the shine wouldn’t ever completely wear off Bex. Her magic wasn't limited by time.

“Everybody find your seats, and let’s get started,” Joe smiles.

It took all Cammie’s self control not to sprint for the script and read the whole thing in two minutes. She managed to maintain her composure as she headed for the center table on the actors’ side, sitting between Zach and Bex.

Somebody was recording, but Cammie couldn't bring herself to care about anything but the bound papers in front of her. The cover page was bright white, the words GALLAGHER GIRL printed in proud black type across the center. Cammie’s pulse raced. She was the Gallagher Girl.

A few more words from Joe, most of which Cammie couldn't hear over the squealing in her head, and then he nodded at us to begin.

Cammie looked at the simple cover page for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets were hiding underneath it. Those words would be her life for the foreseeable future. Those words could make or break her. Make or break all of them. So many fates were on her shoulders.

She turned the page.

CANDIEBUZZ

BREAKING: FIRST LOOK AT THE CAST OF GALLAGHER GIRL !

It’s official, we’re all headed back to spy school! With the read-through for Gallagher Girl taking place this past weekend, we thought we’d be scrounging for script rumors all week. That almost makes the surprise release of the cast’s first photos together even MORE exciting!

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Caption: Cammie Morgan, Bex Baxter, and Macey McHenry arriving in style.

All eight of the film’s leads got together for the first time in East LA on Saturday. With the rumors flying of tension between cast members-- Macey, we’re looking at you-- we were half expecting a catfight to break out at the scene. Instead, it turns out the cast decided to treat us to an exclusive look at their experience.

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Caption: The GG cast flashes their pearly whites in a seemingly basic group pic-- hang on, is that Zachary Goode’s arm around Cammie’s waist?

As you can see, there’s no shortage of talent (or looks-- phew, Grant, calm down with the Blue Steel!) among the star-studded cast. Still, the question has never been if the diversely experienced group is worthy of the honor of becoming teen spies. More at the front of our minds have been concerns over GG’s fate onscreen, after so many teen lit sensations have fallen flat. However, it looks like we’ll have no shortage of chemistry between these rising stars.

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Caption: You can practically see the heart eyes! Cammie Morgan and Zachary Goode have big #Kavis energy.

Perfect romantic leads, check! With Cammie and Zach at the helm, at least there’s hope for the love story of Gallagher Girl . We’re sure we’ll feel the heat from here until the premiere. But we love GG for so much more than just the cute boys-- although they certainly don’t hurt the appeal. At the story’s heart is a tale of sisterhood and true friendship, and without the right Sisters of Gillian, GG could face a fate worse than blowing its cover. We won’t say any names, but it rhymes with Blightning Sheaf.

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Caption: The core four prove to the world that they stand stronger together. Macey McHenry, Cammie Morgan, Bex Baxter, and newbie Elizabeth Sutton show us there’s no hard feelings between them, holding hands like true spy sisters.

After an apparent Twitter rift between McHenry and Baxter, Sutton, and Morgan, we feared the girls were falling apart before they even came together. But these fears were unfounded, as the girls showed off their bond at the photoshoot Saturday. We’ve seen Cammie shine as a missing teen queen on Rosewood , Macey’s runway prowess ( she opened Dior last fall ), and Bex has even graced our screens as a kid spy before in family favorite Mini-I5 . While Elizabeth Sutton may not be a household name, she surely will be soon-- she holds her own against three of Hollywood’s brightest stars, after all.

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Caption: Elizabeth Sutton shines in Brandy Melville as she enters the read-through venue, looking like the real life Jessica Price.

But the real treasure that came out of Saturday wasn’t orchestrated-- our sources tell us the cast came up with the idea on their own. While taking inspired pics to get our imaginations going might have been the initial plan for the day, our personal favorite is… well, let’s say it’s unconventional.

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Caption: The cast of Gallagher Girl strikes an impromptu pose, allegedly inspired by cringey prom photos. We can definitely see the resemblance. (From right: Preston Winters shocking Macey McHenry with his seduction skills, Cammie Morgan and Zach Goode channeling their inner spy couple, Bex Baxter and Grant Dodson sharing a steamy smooch, and Liz Sutton and Jonas Cooper reversing some gender roles.)

With these surprise photos to sate our hunger for GG content, it looks like we’re finally on the road to seeing our beloved books hit the big screen. What do you hope to see from the gorgeous (and goofy) cast of Gallagher Girl ?

DeeDee Silver, November 27th

TWITTER

CarterBuzz said: Calling all spies: it’s time to go back to the Gallagher Academy with the leading cast of “Gallagher Girl” uniting for the first time. Check out the exclusive photos here! [ LINK ]

scallisondilaurentis said: IM GONNA FUCKING CRY SJKFGDSK;FHS

jessieclaynorth said: I’ve been the biggest #Kavis fan on the planet since I was twelve and never thought anything could live up to my daydreams but Cammie and Zach look like they’ll prove me wrong anD I LOVE THE CRINGEY PROM PICS HOW ICONIC!!!

HallieTournet said: find yourself a man who looks at you like zach looks at cammie

majestictales said: i think i might be in love with liz ngl

Prezleighhhhh said: Bex isn’t even that pretty though…

KatherineMacLemare: @Prezleighhhhh quit facetuning the shit out of your pics and then try coming for bex again

tardistantrum said: my bisexual ass is QUAKING

abbsotivelyposilutely said: i’ve had the GG cast for a day but if anything happened to them i’d kill everyone in this room and then myself

Chapter Text

The least surprising thing Cammie learned the first day on set was that Liz had never kissed anyone. 

She never realized how much romance lay beneath the glamour and violence of GG , but the script managed to play off both the simmering heat between Kat and Davis and the impending threat of nuclear war. It was the book, but better; more twisted, tangled, and intertwined. It was a shoo-in for awards season.

Or it would be, should Liz find her chill and kiss Jonas.

“What if I fall in love with him?” she asked, her expression a never-before-seen combination of terror and enchantment. Her fingers drummed out an anxious rhythm on her script, laying closed on her stomach. She had stretched out on the couch in the dorm room like she was seeing a therapist. With the amount of dread and romance in her voice, Liz had struck a perfect balance between lovelorn Rapunzel and horror movie final girl.

Bex shook her head absently, doodling Lacey Lundy in curly pink handwriting in the margins of her script. “You won’t. Even if you did, you’d fall right out again. That’s how movie boyfriends work.”

Liz sighed, trying to twirl a yellow highlighter over the backs of her fingers. “But he’s so pretty. Bex, you don’t know how my heart works.” The highlighter slipped off Liz’s knuckles.

“No, but I know a lot about movies,” Bex countered, then thought for a moment and added, “and boys.” 

Cammie caught a glimmer of an emotion she couldn't name as it danced across Bex’s face, tugging at her perfectly shaped brows, the corner of her glossy lips. She knew Bex well enough by now to know the color on her lips was her favorite, but Cammie didn't have a clue what she was thinking about.

Cammie studied where she had left sky blue highlighter stripes across her script. She was barely through act one-- obviously, the movie script wasn’t divided like a theatrical one, but the same patterns were there in nearly every script-- and already she felt a ball of anxiety twisting in the depths of her stomach. The screenwriter did a beautiful job. Cammie just hoped she could, too.

She remembered how she felt after every other film adaptation of a book she loved, how the tiny joys she found in the movie faded the second she left the theatre. How she began to realize it wasn’t what she wanted or needed or what the story deserved. Cammie remembered her friends verbally destroying the film over cafeteria food, and she imagined another group of middle school girls tearing into Gallagher Girl . Tearing into her.

Bex’s voice broke Cammie out of her anxious thoughts. 

She was still lecturing Liz. “You might be romantic, but there’s a point in every movie relationship when you realize he’s real. He’s just like every other pretty boy you’ve ever seen, but his face is all over billboards.” Sure enough, as she shifted positions, a Fenty lip gloss tube slipped off the bed and fell with a soft thump on the hardwood floor. She made a noise of discomfort as she stretched out to reach it.

“But I’ve never had a pretty boy. At all ,” Liz emphasized. Judging by how few pages in the script were left, her finger stuck between pages to hold her place, she had almost made it to the finale. 

Cammie bit her lip. That’s the part she was the most anxious about. Even at the read-through, she struggled to connect to Kat. Cammie had started to feel the weight of it again, started to hear her own voice too clearly while reading lines she’d memorized when she was twelve.

“Hey, Cammie,” Bex laughed, and Cammie looked up. 

Bex and Liz were both staring at her. Bex looked amused, but Liz appeared concerned. 

Bex tossed Cammie a pack of snacks. “Got something on your mind?”

Cammie shook her head, beginning to smile. Her head was still orbiting thoughts of disaster, but Bex was almost as good at calming Cammie down as she was at being a charming, classic starlet. 

“I’m just worried,” Cammie explained.

“About Liz falling in love with Jonas?” Bex asked.

Liz threw her highlighter at her and missed completely.

Cammie rolled her eyes. “I mean, yeah, but mostly about… everything else.”

Bex and Liz angled their heads in tandem, and Cammie smiled to herself at the motion. “I grew up loving Kat Donovan. What if I ruin her?”

Liz’s brows knit together. “You’re scared because people love Kat?”

Cammie nodded.

Bex scoffed. “People also love you , and they’ll keep loving you even if you shit the bed,” Bex reassures me.

Liz snickered to herself. “Like Bex after the coffee shop.”

Cammie couldn’t help but laugh. Her nerves melted away. In place of dread, she was starting to be excited. She was filming in a fake bedroom, missing one wall, but if she kept her focus on one side of her vision, she could believe she was at the Gallagher Academy. The room contained four beds, but one of them was undecorated, bearing suitcases belonging to Kat, Lacey, and Jessica. The couch Liz lounged across was below the high, tall window between Bex’s bed and Cammie’s. There was a butterfly knife on Kat’s bedside table, which Cammie was supposed to learn to spin like it was effortless. A pink knit blanket was spread on Lacey’s bed, and Bex picked absently at a loose string of yarn. 

“They’re really pushing the pink, huh?” Cammie observed.

Bex sighed wearily. “Looks like it. It’s fine, but if they make me wear it to the premiere, I can and will riot.”

“I could just wear this to the premiere,” Liz piped up, gesturing to her uniform. “I feel totally kickass.”

All three girls wore navy blue sweater vests, bearing the Gallagher crest, over perfectly tailored white button-ups. While they all had white knee-high socks on, Bex had pushed hers down to bunch around the ankle, and one of Liz’s was slipping down her skinny leg. Their shoes were the only other difference between them. Bex wore black patent leather Mary Janes, Liz had on classic-looking saddle shoes, and Cammie felt outshone in white Keds.

Joe has decided to start with introductory scenes today. It was supposed to lay the groundwork for the onscreen chemistry between each actor. 

Cammie was half swept away by the process, so she was glad he was beginning with something familiar. She had read the first dorm room scene so many times, in book and movie form, that it was old hat to her by now. 

“Macey,” Joe shouted, and Cammie heard the click of her shoes before she saw her. When Macey rounded the corner, Cammie’s jaw dropped. 

No matter how mixed her feelings toward Macey were, Cammie had to admit she was a perfect Bailey. Her hair had been blown out until it shone like black silk. Her eyes were ringed in the perfect amount of dark makeup. Macey walked the line of feline and emo-phase. There was a fake stud in her nose, a heavy-looking silver charm bracelet on her lithe wrist, and her lips were a flattering shade of glimmering pink. 

Cammie looked over at Bex and caught her wearing a similar expression. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide, plump lips parted. It might have been the first time Bex had looked at Macey without fixing her with a death glare.

Liz wasn't paying attention, seemingly more fascinated with braiding a small chunk of her blonde hair.

Macey took her place in the hallway set running alongside the opposite wall, and Cammie lost sight of her for the moment. 

Bex’s eyes flickered Cammie’s way, and they exchanged a look of pleasant surprise. Macey was a bitch, but so was Bailey. Perfect casting could exist after all.

Bex sat up, skimming through the entry scene one last time before tucking her script into the blush-colored binder on the bed. All of Lacey’s possessions had to be pink, or at least peach-colored, it seems.

Cammie looked down at her script. It was a moot point, really, since she had it memorized since the read-through. She didn't have a binder like Bex, so she slid her packet of papers under the bed. She kept the blue highlighter.

“Kissing is easy,” Bex said to Liz with a half-shrug. “Relax your lips, close your eyes, don’t shove your tongue in her mouth.”

“ Her mouth?!” Liz squeaked.

Bex rolled her eyes. “Sorry. His mouth.”

Liz’s bright blue gaze dropped to Bex’s high-gloss lips. The moment Liz saw Cammie watching, her cheeks flamed. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t planning on it,” she offered shyly. “Tongues in mouths, I mean.”

“All right, operatives,” Joe called from the hallway. “Let’s go.”

Everyone who wasn't an actor cleared out. Someone yelled for quiet on the set. Liz got up and crossed to her bed, where she was staged to be, and I opened a textbook with Advanced Decryption on the cover.

“Action!”

Lacey twirled a chunk of curly hair around her finger, her foot bouncing as it hung off the end of the bed. “At least we’ll see him again in a few months for CoveOps,” she sighed. “I don’t know if I could take another year.”

“Is this the Royal Gala guy?” Jessica asked, sitting to attention on her throne of pillows.

Lacey nodded. “The one I met freshman year. Every summer, we encounter each other once, and it’s at the Royal Gala.” She stood up, picking up her favorite silk scarf and swirling it through the air gracefully. “And every summer, I fall a little more in love with him!” Lacey collapsed on her back on her bed with a lovelorn sigh.

The impact of her weight on the mattress propelled the textbook out of Cammie’s relaxed hands, and it crashed to the floor with a loud bang . Everyone jumped, and Liz yelped in surprise. 

Cammie thought her heart could stop. She stared down at her empty hands for a moment, all memory of her next line gone. Helplessly, she looked up at Liz.

Liz was already red-faced from trying to contain her laughter. She snorted the second they made eye contact. Once she cracked, Bex quickly followed. Someone on camera started laughing, and Cammie felt her cheeks heat up as a smile spread across her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, lowering her head to rest on her arms. Her shoulders shook with laughter.

“Get your book, chameleon,” Liz cackled.

Cammie wiggled forward and reached off the side of the bed to retrieve the textbook as Bex, containing herself, looked over at Joe. “Can we take it from ‘and every summer’?”

“Yes,” he said shortly, clearly annoyed at them.

That made it all funnier, and Cammie was ready for another round of laughter, but Bex was already standing and spinning again. 

“And every summer, I fall a little more in love with him!” she exclaims a second time. 

Cammie gripped the book as Bex plummetted back onto her bed, and this time she managed not to lose her hold on it.

One of the cameras pulled in close on Cammie’s left as she rolled her eyes. “Right. Remind me what his name is, Lovergirl?”

Lacey huffed. “Names are boring.”

Cammie playfully shoved her knee. “You could just say you don’t know it.”

Lacey giggled, but defended herself. “It’s not my fault he sits at the ambassador’s table, and I don’t need to explain why I’m not going over there. We all remember Lithuania.”

Jessica pulled a face. “I can’t ever think of rice pudding the same way again.”

Lacey didn't react, absorbed in her imagined visions of herself and Royal Gala boy. 

“Lithuania isn’t the point here,” Cammie reminded them, sitting up and pulling her textbook into her lap. As she turned back to face Lacey, she nearly flipped her hair directly into the lens of a camera. She didn’t react. “The point is Lacey, repeatedly falling in love with people she can’t have.”

Jessica shook her head solemnly. “We’ve all been there.”

“We have not ,” Cammie argued.

Lacey laughed shortly, emerging from her trance. “Yeah, Jessica, you forgot to exclude Kat. We’re in the presence of Miss ‘love is a means to an end’.”

She ended her sentence in a perfect imitation of Cammie’s voice, and Cammie stared at her in genuine shock for a moment. When she could gather herself to respond, she said, “I didn’t mean it like that. ”

“You sure about that?” Jessica asked. “You seemed pretty sure when you wrecked Lacey’s obsession with Zander Givens last semester.”

“And I really, really liked him,” Lacey lamented.

Cammie narrowed her eyes at Lacey. “Didn’t he distract you with a promise ring and then frame you for three felonies?”

She dismissed Cammie’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “No relationship is perfect.”

There was a knock on the door that stopped Cammie before she could respond. All three students looked toward the hallway, where a beautiful woman stood, wearing a soft smile.

“Headmistress,” they greeted her. They scrambled to their feet like they learned in etiquette class. 

Cammie nearly dropped her encryption textbook, again , but caught it at the last second. She offered the headmistress an embarrassed smile.

The headmistress shook her head good-naturedly. “You three would make Professor Cloche proud, but I’m not grading you on this. In fact, I’m here with a happy announcement.”

“We don’t have to speak Greek at formal dinner anymore?” Lacey guessed.

Cammie reached to lightly slap her wrist without looking back.

The headmistress sighed. “No, Miss Lundy, although I’m sure you’d appreciate that. I’m actually here to introduce you to your new roommate.”

Lacey, Jessica, and Cammie glanced to the empty bed in the corner of their room, currently hosting all of their suitcases and a few empty bags of snacks. In the three years they had been roommates, that bed was never filled. No one had ever dared intrude on their tight-knit friendship. They weren’t clique-y, per se, but after so many memories together, living with someone who didn't get the inside jokes would get awkward.

Jessica and Cammie made eye contact. She raised an eyebrow, a silent did you know about this ?

Kat didn’t.

“Why us?” Lacey asked, and Kat turned her head fully this time to stare at Lacey. She should know better than to question authority-- but then again, this was Lacey they were talking about. Knowing better didn't necessarily mean she would do better.

The headmistress, however, indulged her. “She’s a new student,” she said with emphasis. At the confused expressions of the girls, she hinted harder. “She’s never been anywhere like the Gallagher Academy.”

“No one has,” Lacey muttered.

Kat smiled weakly, trying to make up for Lacey’s attitude. “We’ll be glad to show her the ropes.”

The headmistress smiled at her. “Thank you, Miss Donovan. I knew I could trust you three.” She looked into the hallway behind her, probably talking to their new roommate.

In the meantime, Kat looked to Jessica and Lacey.

“She’s a civilian,” Jessica concluded, whispering way too loudly.

Kat shushed her, but Lacey just egged her on. “We’re supposed to train her, I guess.”

“She’s gonna be terrified,” Jessica giggled.

Lacey smirked devilishly.

“Girls,” the headmistress said, and all of us look back towards the door.

Kat didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't a model-gorgeous girl with raven-black hair and striking blue eyes who stepped into her bedroom like an empress entering her castle.

“Meet Bailey Dorian,” the headmistress introduced her. “She’s new to Virginia as well as the Gallagher Academy, so I trust you three can show her the sights.”

Bailey scoffed dismissively.

The girls stared at her in horror, but she fixed each of them with a completely unabashed blue gaze. She didn't say a word. She was unafraid, which she probably thought made her brave. She had no idea how stupid she looked.

Kat glanced at the headmistress, who briefly appeared ready to repurpose Bailey’s layered gold necklace around her elegant neck. 

Bailey flipped her hair and turned back to face her, and the expression had evaporated, replaced by cool indifference. 

The headmistress smiled as if she couldn’t kill a man with an empty water bottle and a cup of baking soda. “I hope you’ll feel at home here, Miss Dorian. I hope to see you again at dinner.”

And with that, the headmistress and her seventy-plus confirmed kills left the room.

The remaining three stared at Bailey without attempting to hide it. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, crossing her boots at the ankle. “So,” she said, with a voice as bitter and cutting as espresso, “you three are ‘exceptional young women’?”

She was referencing the name of the school, but Kat doubted she was doing it to be nice.

“Sure are,” Jessica replied, stepping forward and offering her hand to shake. “I’m Jessica Price. I was new here once, too.”

Bailey stared at her, cruel amusement glimmering in her eyes. Kat wanted to grab Jessica by her skinny shoulders and jerk her away from Bailey. The new girl may not know eighteen languages and five ways to kill someone with a bag of potato chips, but she was still dangerous in a different way. She was a bonafide mean girl.

Jessica made herself easy prey. 

Bailey delicately plucked a wad of gum out of her mouth and squashed it in the palm of Jessica’s hand with a sugary-sweet smile. Jessica’s mouth dropped open in disgust and shock.

“Thanks,” Bailey said, winking at Lacey over Jessica’s shoulder.

She turned around and left the room before Kat could make what happened to Regina George look like child’s play.

“Cut!” 

Everyone sat heavily back on their beds. Liz threw away Macey’s gum and used some hand sanitizer to get rid of the residue. Makeup assistants rushed to them en masse, perfecting every aspect of their appearances. With a new coat of powder and lipstick, Cammie was renewed. 

Macey came into the room and perched on the end of the bed near Liz. Her stylist straightened the cowlick in the back of her hair.

“You’re such a great actress, Macey,” Bex gushed.

Cammie knew before she said another word where that was going.

“Thank you,” Macey shrugged. “It really isn’t that hard.”

Bex giggled lightly. “Oh, it shouldn’t be. After all, you have so much experience with being a vapid bitch.”

Liz choked on her water.

“All right, ladies, let’s take it from the headmistress’ entrance,” Joe said. 

Macey shot Bex a glare that would make a grown man keel over in fear. Bex simply beamed at her.

“Action!”

Chapter Text

Cammie thought learning to spin the butterfly knife was painful.

“Do you really think this is your big break?” Zach asked. His voice was cold and condescending, despite the strategically placed fan that ruffled his dark hair. A makeup artist leaned over the arm of his chair and reapplied a layer of peachy blush to his cheeks, giving him the perfect, sunkissed look.

Cammie didn't have time to bicker with him. In under a minute, the cameras would start rolling. Even though she wasn’t playing a role, she still had to pretend to like him. It might have been her hardest challenge yet. Cammie tried to ignore him, but there was something about the guy that made him impossible to block out. It was a superpower that probably came with being a Hollywood dreamboat. 

“I never said that,” she muttered.

Zach chuckled. The sound was low and condescending, and Cammie wasn’t sure if it would be more satisfying to smack or kiss that smirk off his face.

“You don’t need to say it, sweetheart,” he replied. When the makeup artist stepped away from him, he watched her leave with a glint in his dark eyes. He turned them on Cammie next. “I’ve met girls like you before. You think you’re a rising star, but you’re just a firework.”

Cammie gritted her teeth and focused on staying collected. She didn't want to seem like a spoiled wannabe in front of the cameras. She just had to look happy to be here, even if she would be happier to shut him up with some of the jiu jitsu she learned from her stunt double.

“Smile, darling,” Cammie’s temporary stylist chirped from behind the camera. 

The bustle rose to a climax as the crew prepared to start filming. Cammie pasted a grin on her face and looked to Zach. “If I ever need advice from a self-obsessed shitrag, I’ll give you a call.”

He laughed at the moment the cameras started rolling, and Cammie was so pleased with herself that she giggled, too. 

There was a brief pause, and Cammie glanced up at the producer. “Do we… go? Now?”

“I think we go now,” Zach said from behind her.

Camie put a smile on her face and said, “I’m Cammie Morgan.”

“And I’m Zachary Goode,” Zach finished.

Cammie picked up from there. “And today we’ll be guessing how our fans responded to a survey about us.”

The producer spoke from behind the camera, explaining the way the surveys were conducted. “So we sent this survey to 300 of each of your fans, and we got 542 responses.”

Cammie nodded thoughtfully. “Solid return rate.”

“Yeah, good job guys,” Zach agreed. He shot the camera a thumbs-up.

Cammie briefly wondered if he was trying to get turned into a gif. 

“Cammie,” the producer addressed her. “Of your fans who responded, how old do you think the oldest person is who took this survey?”

Cammie grimaced. She wasn’t sure. Most of the people who knew her had started following her after Rosewood , so that was a huge audience. Still, it was marketed to older teens.

“Twenty...six,” she answered hesitantly. 

“Zach?” the producer pivoted.

He answered faster. “Thirty-nine.”

Cammie made a face. “Thirty-nine?”

Zach shrugged. “Older people check their emails more often, I feel like the return rate would be higher for them.”

Cammie nodded thoughtfully, reconsidering her guess.

The producer asked a few more statistical questions: youngest, average, median, mode. Cammie was glad she paid attention in math class.

The pale blue fax machine behind Cammie and Zach printed out two sheets of paper, one for each of them. 

“Okay, Cammie first. Read your results.”

Cammie read aloud from the light yellow page. “Okay. The oldest person who answered this survey was thirty-eight.” She lowered the paper and looked at Zach. “You might’ve had a point about that email thing.”

He shrugged, feigning modesty.

Cammie read from her page again. “The youngest person was seven-- that’s a second-grader, oh my god. The average age was nineteen, which I guessed right. The median was seventeen, the most common age was sixteen.”

She lowered the page and thought about the results. She looked right at the camera and repeated, “ Seven ?”

Zach chuckled, but Cammie still wasn’t over it.

“That’s a whole child,” she continued. “There’s no way an actual second-grader answered this. They don’t have phones.”

“Yes, they do,” Zach said.

“They do ?” Cammie demanded, before remembering that she didn’t like him.

Zach rolled his eyes and read from his paper. “Oldest person was thirty-nine.”

He held out his hands as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“Youngest was nine. Average age eighteen, median seventeen, most common was twenty.”

The fax machine whirred on again. Cammie picked up the paper first.

“Oh, this is the first question they answered,” she murmured. She half-expected more statistics. Cammie looked to Zach. “So both our fanbases were asked who our doppelganger is.”

Zach let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I think I’m pretty unique.”

Now it was Cammie’s turn to roll her eyes.

“But you guys have to guess what they said before we give you results,” the producer reminded them.

“I’ll go for a young Patrick Swayze,” Zach shrugged.

Cammie couldn’t contain her scoff. “Shut up,” she muttered.

Zach looked offended. “What?”

She shook her head. “You can’t compare yourself to him, he’s way too pretty. It’s slanderous.”

“I’m pretty,” Zach said with a comical frown. He gave her big, pouty eyes like it would change her mind.

It didn’t. Cammie rested her chin on her hand and thought about her answer. Her mom used to tell her she looked like Jennifer Connelly, but that was probably a lie. 

“I’m gonna say Natalia Dyer,” Cammie decided. Another thought occurred to her, and she added, “Or Giorgia Whigham, or Kaitlyn Dever. I’ve gotten them a couple times, too.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Zach whispered. 

Cammie forced a smile. “That’s because you don’t have taste.”

Two folders were placed on the desks in front of Cammie and Zach. He opened his first.

“Okay, so 47% of people picked this one,” he began, then lifted a photograph with a proud smirk.

“Gavin Leatherwood,” Cammie nodded thoughtfully. “I see it way more than Swayze.”

Zach mimicked the angle from the photograph, trying to emulate his doppelganger. It worked, but Cammie almost though Zach was prettier.

She laughed. “You’ve got the tall, dark, and handsome thing down.”

Zach glanced her way with mischievous eyes. “You think I’m handsome?”

Cammie’s brow furrowed. Being polite on camera was one thing, but flirting was another.

She ignored him and opened her folder. “All right. This one is was 39% of the answers,” she explained.

She lifted the photograph, and Zach snapped his fingers with delight. “Natalia Dyer. You called it.”

Cammie looked at the photo. She did resemble her, especially at this angle. 

“Well, thank you,” she addressed the camera. “She’s really pretty. I wish I looked like her.”

“Clearly, you do,” Zach pointed out as he lifted his second photo. 

Cammie rolled her eyes when she identified who it was. She sunk back into her seat and crossed her arms. “Your fans are so nice to you,” she grumbled.

“What?” Zach pouted, turning the photo around to look at it. He beamed. “I’m Han Solo, y’all,” he celebrated in a playful, high-pitched voice.

Cammie couldn’t help but smile. Zach’s interview personality was certainly a departure from his real one. If it wasn’t entirely fake, she would’ve thought he was great, too.

The next question was Zach’s to read. He smirked when he looked down at it, and Cammie grimaced at the thought of what made him so happy. 

“How old were you when you had your first kiss?”

Cammie swallowed hard. Only a few days earlier, she had heard Bex teasing Liz for her apprehension about onscreen kisses. Cammie herself had stayed quiet during the debate, mostly because she had been avoiding thoughts of kissing Zach since she saw the cast list.

He was a great actor. Maybe better than her. If he kissed her, he could probably do it so well it wouldn’t just be Kat falling for him.

“Cam?” Zach asked, smirking.

He had never called her that before.

Cammie shook all thoughts of kissing him out of her head. “I was fifteen,” she answered. “It was for a black box play at my high school. He was a senior, and he was so cute I forgot my lines right after.”

Zach stared at her a little too long. The words hung in the air, and Cammie hoped he wouldn’t see right through them.

“And you?” she asked anxiously, forcing the pressure to speak onto him.

“Thirteen,” he said casually. “My first girlfriend. We were at the Sadie Hawkins dance.”

Cammie’s lower lip pulled forward. That sounded adorable. 

“Let’s see results,” Zach said, opening his folder. He chuckled while reading them. “So fifty-three percent of answers said I was fourteen, thirty said I was fifteen, and only ten said thirteen.” He shook his head at the camera. “You guys. I was an early bloomer.”

Cammie opened her folder and pulled out her results. She beamed just like Zach. “Okay, so most people thought I was sixteen, good job,” she nodded. “Second choice was fifteen.”

Cammie was talking, but her mind was stuck on the numbers. Ten percent said seventeen, and they still weren’t right.

The interview continued with more questions meant to introduce Cammie and Zach to a new audience: What was her first paying job? What animal would she be? If she could have dinner with one person, dead or alive, who would it be?

Which GG cast member would she sacrifice first in a zombie apocalypse?

Cammie said Zach for that one. He elected Bex, then explained she probably had the best odds of surviving them.

Later, walking out of the interview to the elevator, Cammie’s words came back to bite her.

“You’ve never been kissed, have you?” Zach asked, although it sounded more like an accusation than an inquiry.

Cammie didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

“You made up that thing about the black box play,” he added, not waiting for her answer. “You just didn’t want to admit in front of the whole world that you’re undateable.”

“I’m not undateable,” Cammie muttered. She still wouldn’t look at him. Her footsteps echoed sharply off the cinder block walls, accentuated by her boot heels.

Zach chuckled. His tone was condescending before he even spoke. “Sure you are. Everyone’s just waiting for you to break. You’re rising too fast, and you’re gonna burn out.”

Cammie swallowed hard. He called her a firework earlier, and now she understood why. It didn’t mean he was right.

“You don’t know anything about me, Zach,” she snapped. She stepped into the elevator first, and he followed, dashing all hopes of finding privacy.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replied. 

Cammie could see him in her periphery, watching her intently. She kept her gaze locked on the descending numbers on the elevator.

Zach kept talking. He was watching her like a predator, waiting for her to show weakness. “I know something no one else does,” he taunted her.

Two floors left.

“I know you’ve never kissed anyone.”

One.

“I’ll be first, won’t I?”

Cammie snapped her attention to him, all perfectly tousled hair and dreamy eyes.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she countered.

The elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor. Cammie adjusted her purse on her shoulder and stepped outside before Zach could speak again, or tease her for admitting it. 

The next week was chock-full of big filming days. By Friday, they’d be on-site at the castle that had been rented out to be Blackthorne Academy. That was where Kat and Davis kissed in the book.

Cammie’s stomach dropped as she stepped into the waiting car. She had six days to kiss someone, anyone, other than Hollywood’s favorite bad boy. She wouldn’t let him hold this over her for the rest of their lives.

YOUTUBE: Cammie Morgan and Zachary Goode Guess Fan Responses to a Survey About Them (Posted by Teen Vogue )

Suggested: 

cammie and zach annoying each other for 3 and a half minutes (Posted by gillystan )

zachary goode simping for cammie for 2 minutes (Posted by lenaedits )

cammie morgan being chaotic for 5 minutes (Posted by sithspies )

Chapter Text

Cammie memorized the itinerary for the week while sitting in the makeup chair at four in the morning. Monday had the earliest call time of the whole week, so that the lighting would be right for the dawn training sequences. This early in the morning, no other main cast members were around except Cammie, Jonas, Preston, and Macey. Cammie walked past a few extras on her way in, most of whom were half-asleep teenagers drinking coffee. 

Joe had specified that he didn’t want a montage of Bailey’s learning arc. She would have morning sparring practice with Kat, afternoon studies with Jessica, and evening weapons training with Lacey. Apparently, a handful of individual scenes would better emphasize how little Macey’s character was prepared for the incoming violence. It added a sense of urgency, in Joe’s words.

Cammie was feeling her own sense of urgency. The thought of sharing her first kiss with Zachary Goode felt like an impending death sentence to her dignity. She wrinkled her nose at the very idea and took a sip of her caramel latte to erase the disgust from her mind.

“All right, sweet girl,” Cammie’s on-set stylist said, letting her hands rest on Cammie’s shoulders. “You’re ready to go.” 

Her name was Ashleigh, if Cammie remembered correctly. Cammie offered her a grateful smile and a thank-you. Ashleigh’s well-trained hands had erased the dark bags beneath Cammie’s eyes and swept up her hair into a calculatedly messy ponytail. Cammie wished she really looked like that when she had just gotten up.

She made her way out of the makeup trailer and stepped down to the concrete lot outside the building. The cool morning air kissed Cammie’s exposed arms and sent a chill up her spine. 

Monday and Tuesday, filming was taking place at a college campus with old enough buildings to believably be a private school for spies. Cammie was looking forward to taking it all in, since she doubted she’d get the chance to have a normal college experience if this movie went as planned.

The makeup trailer door closed hard behind Cammie, so she knew Macey wasn’t far behind her. They pretended not to notice each other, despite Macey only being a few steps behind Cammie, as they passed through a gateway and into a courtyard between two ivy-covered brick buildings. 

Cammie wasn’t sure how much of the garden was natural and how much had already been touched by movie magic (and the set crew), but it was beautiful to see. Soft grass paved the way under a long tunnel of trellises, draped with greenery. Cameras had been erected at the far end of the tunnel and at intervals farther down it.

Cammie looked behind her, at the building the trellises lead to. It was the journalism college, judging by the inscription at the top of the building. That would be out of frame. The lower stories, however, wouldn’t be. Gallagher Academy tapestries had been hung inside the building, visible through the wide, rounded windows. 

A little thrill ran through Cammie’s blood. If she ignored the cameras, she felt like she’d stepped through a courtyard gate and into a different reality. It was like being in the dorm room set, but even stronger. Like being six years old and seeing Cinderella’s castle at Disney World.

Joe’s voice rose above the chatter. “Miss Morgan, if I could borrow you for a moment?” 

Cammie tried not to suspect that she was in trouble, but it took all her will not to let her anxiety show. It felt like she was reminded every ten minutes that she had big shoes to fill. Kat Donovan wasn’t just her hero. She was a hero to thousands of people, and Cammie knew just how important it was to do her justice.

But how could she? Kat was flawless. Cammie was not.

Joe rotated a camera screen toward Cammie. “I want to show you something,” he explained, then rolled the footage. 

It was from the soundstage filming last week, in the cabin where Lacey and Kat found the dead Blackthorne alum. Cammie couldn’t remember the exact take she was watching, but she noted that Bex’s hair looked fantastic.

The footage was from a camera focused on Cammie, but Bex’s lines could be heard from offscreen. Someone gave a command to start.

“I knew we should have brought Jess,” Lacey muttered from out of frame. 

Cammie watched herself look in Lacey’s direction, eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. 

Lacey peered at the warped numbers on the open laptop. “I think this poor guy was mid-decryption when he got interrupted by the hit man. It’s weird that he didn’t take the tech with them, though. He must be an amateur.”

Cammie watched her own expression shift, watched her gaze flicker from the extra lying on the cabin floor to the laptop on the desk behind the camera. She could’ve sworn her complexion grew pale.

“Lacey, we need to go.”

“Why?” Lacey asked, off-camera. “Nobody will have even noticed we’re gone yet.”

Kat swallowed hard, her eyes locked on Bex. “They would only leave the tech behind if they were amateurs,” she began, then redirected her stare to the laptop. “Or if they wanted to see who came looking.”

There was a moment of pause, then Lacey’s footsteps toward the door. Kat had just turned to follow her when Joe paused the tape, the screen frozen on a blue of dark blonde hair and the side of Kat’s face.

“That was good,” Joe said with a nod. “Honestly, I think it’ll be in the final cut.”

Cammie glanced between him and the camera screen. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”

Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re not in trouble, Miss Morgan. The opposite, actually. I didn’t realize you had such a knack for subtlety.”

Cammie was hesitant to speak again, in case that was a backhanded compliment. She simply nodded and asked, “Do you have any direction for me today?”

Joe snapped his fingers like she’d reminded him of something. “Yes, actually. The subtlety is really working for me in the more high-tension scenes, but I don’t want to lose your positive energy. I think a lot of Kat’s relatability comes from her humor. She can’t take everything so seriously.”

Cammie nodded. “Okay. So you want less Riverdale , more Booksmart ?”

“Exactly,” Joe confirmed. “Especially in these scenes with Miss McHenry, I need to be reminded that you two are in high school. You’re not super-spies.”

“I can do that,” Cammie nodded.

She headed for the space where she was directed, where Macey was already going over the sparring choreography with her trainer. Cammie had practiced it so much last night that her muscles were still sore. 

Another thing Joe wasn’t a fan of: stunt doubles. Every main cast member had one, but were encouraged to try as much of the choreography for themselves as they felt comfortable with. Cammie and Macey’s sparring scenes weren’t exceedingly difficult, so both girls had learned the sequences themselves.

Macey’s trainer backed off after one last recitation of the moves, leaving the two girls under the trellis together. The silence between them felt even more awkward, now that Cammie was preparing to knock Macey on her ass.

“Good morning,” she offered hesitantly.

Macey fixed her icy gaze on Cammie. “I’m sure it is,” she responded, tone acidic.

Cammie was too tired to engage her in a battle of wits. It wasn’t even five in the morning. Instead, she let out a deep breath and stretched out her arms. 

The costume department hadn’t phoned it in for the training clothes. Cammie and Macey were dressed differently, meant to highlight their opposing goals. Macey sported black high-waisted leggings with a complicated pattern of mesh cutouts down the outsides of her legs. With it, she wore a dark gray crop top that was clearly not meant to be athletic wear. Bailey’s wardrobe so far was full of darkness, although Cammie had heard the stylists talking about how they’d integrate color to reflect her emotional journey throughout the film.

Cammie, on the other hand, had been told Kat was going to embody the color blue. Her costume reflected it. Like Macey, her leggings were black, but they were simple and solid. Her top was a bright cobalt, and made from slightly elastic athletic material. She was simple, functional, and effective. She, too, had a ‘costume journey’ to embark on throughout the film, but she wasn’t sure of the details yet.

“All right, girls, let’s get a move on,” Joe said, taking his place to watch the scene unfold.

Macey stepped outside the boundaries of the trellis tunnel, and Cammie leaned against the support pole behind her. She got comfortable, imagining she’d been waiting for half an hour in the chilly dawn air.

“Action.”

Kat chewed on her lower lip impatiently. She wasn’t standing out here in the cold for Bailey to take her sweet time joining her. It was out of the kindness of her heart (and the urging of her mother) that Kat was dealing with Bailey at all. She had seven years of Gallagher training to catch up on in one academic year.

Footsteps crunched across the dew-soaked grass, and Kat looked toward the source of the sound. Every sound was amplified in the courtyard, and when Bailey appeared at the far end of the corridor of trellises, Kat had long been expecting her.

“You’re late,” she said, gaze unbending as she stared at Bailey’s approaching form. She glanced down at the other girl’s footwear with disdain. “I told you to wear shoes you can move in.”

“I did,” Bailey countered. “I wore these to go swing-dancing with Timothee Chalamet. Trust me, they’re activewear.” Her lip curled with equal distaste for Kat’s outfit of choice, but she said nothing about it.

Kat huffed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay. Did you do the reading?”

“Do I already look like I have nothing better to do?” Bailey countered, coming to a stop across from Kat. She put her hands on her hips, and Kat noticed she was still wearing her rings.

Kat didn’t bother pointing out that Macey definitely didn’t have anything better to do than study, because there was nothing to do at Gallagher Academy except that. Plus, sneaking out wasn’t even a concern. Not only was Bailey sharing a bathroom with three of the best teenage spies on the planet, but nobody got out of Gallagher Academy without permission.

Except Kat, but that was a different story.

“You’re gonna want to take those off,” Kat said, gesturing to Bailey’s rings. “I brought extra tape for you to wrap your hands.”

“How considerate,” Bailey said, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

Kat couldn’t wait to hit her.

She put the tape down at the base of the trellis pole and pulled on her padded gloves. “Okay. Gloves on, because I like my face the way it is.”

Bailey snorted. “I don’t.”

Kat’s expression faltered. She looked genuinely hurt for a fraction of a second, and her voice was vulnerable when she asked, “What?”

“Nothing, G.I. Jane,” Bailey responded. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Her gloves weren’t tight enough, but Kat wasn’t about to make her life easier on purpose. Kat recovered as well as she could from the insult and nodded toward the pile of protective body armor she’d laid out on Bailey’s side of the trellis. “Put that on,” she instructed her. 

Bailey scoffed in disdain. “Absolutely not.”

She leaned over and lifted the chest piece, only touching it with her fingertips. It was unflattering yellow foam with black straps that fastened around the waist and arms. Bailey giggled uncomfortably and shook her head. “Yeah, no. Not happening. You’re not wearing one.”

“Because you won’t hit me,” Kat pointed out. It wasn’t bragging if it was a fact Bailey should’ve known by now.

The fire in her eyes said otherwise. Bailey dropped the chest piece and straightened. “Put money on that, do you, Donovan?”

Kat looked bemused by Bailey’s undeserved confidence. “Please don’t try to hit me right now, I don’t want to watch you embarrass yourself.”

Bailey shrugged. “You won’t have to.”

She leapt toward Kat like a wild animal, shoulders opened wide, right arm wound up comically far. Kat easily dodged the attack and switched places with her, a smile appearing on her lips.

“Stop it, seriously,” she said, moments before Bailey came at her again.

Again, Kat ducked, giggling as Bailey stumbled gracelessly into a support pole.

Bailey snarled as she turned back to face her. A lock of ink-black hair had sprung loose from her braids. “You’re a terrible teacher,” she spat.

Kat didn’t appear to mind. “You’re not much of a student, if you’ll let me say so.”

Bailey grit her teeth and lunged forward again, and again she missed Kat completely. “How are you doing that?” she demanded, voice getting high-pitched like she wanted to throw a tantrum.

Kat had an idea. “I won’t this time, I promise. But you need to focus on me, not how mad you are.”

“I’m not mad,” Bailey muttered, glaring through her eyelashes at Kat.

Kat didn’t need to debate over semantics with her. “Frustrated, then. Focus less on that, more on me.”

Bailey sighed.

For the fourth time, Kat watched her lay herself out like she wanted Kat to deck her. Her jaw tightened, her shoulder muscles flexed under her shirt, and she threw herself forward rather than just stepping. Her attacks were emotional, unplanned, and she rarely had a plan for what to do after them. She lived in the moment she struck and no further.

But Kat didn’t move, as promised. She let Bailey get within striking range of her and knocked her fist out of the air. With the other hand, she struck her right beneath the sternum. 

Of course, Cammie didn’t actually hit her. She moved her arm on the far side of the cameras and came within an inch of Macey’s body. Like they were dancing, Macey reacted to the punch that never landed.

Bailey’s breath was knocked out of her. She keeled over and stumbled back, hugging her midsection. She coughed as her lungs struggled to recover their rhythm.

Kat hadn’t even broken a sweat. She sighed in disappointment. “You didn’t focus on me.”

“Of course I did,” Bailey argued, straightening at last. She rubbed her lower ribs and scowled. “I was thinking of how badly I wanted you to hit the ground.”

“That’s not the same thing as focusing on me,” Kat pointed out. “Watch what I’m doing. Think about other people, not just yourself.”

Bailey huffed and lifted her hands, mirroring Kat’s stance. “If you’re trying to teach me a lesson, it’s not working.”

“We’ll see,” Kat smirked. She tapped her gloves together. “Let’s go. We don’t have all day.”

“Cut!”

Macey dropped her hands to her sides. She snapped at her stylist. “Blot me.”

Cammie returned to the table where she’d left her water bottle and looked over her lines. She wasn’t entirely sure that she’d gotten everything she was supposed to say. The rhythm of the scene had swept her up. 

“Hey, Cammie,” Jonas said.

Cammie looked up at him, dressed in his Blackthorne uniform. He looked great.

“Hi, Jonas,” she greeted him absently. She was still skimming her lines. Sure enough, she’d skipped one, but it had passed so seamlessly that she hadn’t noticed. Joe hadn’t even cut her off.

Cammie wondered how Macey had so easily smoothed it over. 

“Early morning, huh?” he asked.

Cammie sighed wearily. “Yeah. I have a break from ten to noon, so I think I’m gonna nap while Ashleigh does my hair.”

“McHenry, Morgan,” someone shouted from the corridor. 

Cammie took a last sip of water. “See you later, Jonas. Try not to fall asleep standing up.”

He laughed, and Cammie went back for another take, running the line she’d skipped in her head. She wouldn’t miss it again. 

*

The sun had just emerged from over the horizon when Joe dismissed both girls. Macey returned to her trailer, insisting that she needed a nap. Cammie thought she wanted the same, but she caught sight of a table of donuts and changed her mind.

Grant was already halfway through devouring a strawberry frosted donut, a paper poncho over his costume. He smiled, lips caked in sugar. “Hey, Cammie.”

“Hey,” she smiled. She picked up a poncho like his and put it on over her head, covering her clothes so nothing would stain. She didn’t need the costume crew to hate her. 

“Weird question,” Grant said, “but you hate him enough that I thought you’d know. Where’s Zach?” 

Cammie nearly choked on her donut. She cupped her hand under her mouth in case she laughed too hard, but managed not to spit it out. After swallowing, she replied, “I don’t know.”

“He’ll be here at noon,” Macey informed him absently. 

Cammie jumped at the sound of her voice. “Where did you even come from?”

Macey shrugged. “I wanted a donut.” She didn’t even look up from her phone.

Cammie lifted an eyebrow. “Since when do you keep track of Zach’s schedule?”

“Since we started dating,” Macey countered. Her tone was melodic, but her stare was hard as steel. She leveled Cammie with those heart-stopping eyes and smirked. “See, I can care about people. Just not you.”

Cammie’s shock was aided by the matching look of surprise on Grant’s face. Macey picked up a chocolate donut and headed back to her trailer.

Three girls, likely heading to class, passed by the donut table. They didn’t look like spies at all. One of them wore a sweatshirt with Greek letters on it. All three carried iced coffees. They tried to avoid staring, but it was obvious they were intrigued by the events in the courtyard.

Who wouldn’t be, with Cammie and the prettiest boy she’d ever seen standing there eating donuts in giant paper ponchos?

Cammie watched them go. Maybe they were jealous, but she wasn’t sure they should have been. With every passing day, Cammie became more aware of how many people would know her name after this was all over. Her mom was right. There were drawbacks to being noticed, and Cammie wished she had always understood how valuable it was to be invisible.

“You look really nice,” Grant said, drawing Cammie’s attention back to him. The phrase was not a veiled attempt at flirting. He was just making an observation.

Cammie smiled. “Thank you. So do you.”

That was also true. He’d already been through makeup, so his already flawless complexion was even and glowing. His poncho wasn’t entirely transparent, but Cammie could make out a Blackthorne crest on his blazer. He was dressed for the scene in the Gallagher library with Liz, which Cammie wouldn’t be around to watch. She’d be in makeup for her dining hall fight, which was filmed right after.

Grant led the way to a nearby picnic table and sat down, and Cammie joined him. She hadn’t realized how lacking her friendships were with cast members who weren’t Bex or Liz, but Grant seemed nice. It couldn’t hurt to befriend him, especially not with a common enemy as powerful as Macey.

“I have a weird question,” Grant said.

Cammie turned sideways to have her feet on the bench between herself and Grant. “Shoot.”

He smiled as he spoke. “Are you a Pisces?”

Cammie laughed. “No, I’m an Aquarius. February 4.”

Grant narrowed his eyes and nodded like he knew something she didn’t. “That makes sense. I can completely see that.”

Cammie shook her head with an amused smile. “That’s what people always say. I don’t know enough about astrology to care.”

Grant beamed. “Well, here’s your crash course. I did my homework last night, but some of the websites had your birthday wrong, so I had to ask.” He pointed at Macey’s trailer, where Cammie suspected she was already fast asleep. “Macey’s an Aries, in case you couldn’t tell by the everything-about-her. Bex is a Scorpio and Liz is a Taurus, so it’s really not surprising that they’re best friends.”

Cammie popped a powdered donut hole in her mouth. She wondered if the coffee shop the college girls had come from was nearby, and if she could make it there and back on her lunch break. After swallowing her donut, she asked, “So, starboy, what’s the compatibility between Zach and Macey?”

Grant chuckled. “The forecast isn’t good, but it should be entertaining. Aries and Leo, that’s double fire signs. Why, do you ship it?”

Cammie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t ‘ship’ anything, I just wanna see Zach get crushed by Macey.”

Speaking of Macey, Cammie was still processing their scene together from the morning. It had been easy, somehow even easier than the shots with Bex or Liz. Maybe Joe was as good as his fans said, and he knew how to cast for chemistry. After all, the dynamic between Bailey and Kat was a cornerstone of the plot.

What bothered Cammie was that Macey was a good actress. Cameras loved her. And with opposition like that on the same screen, Cammie was inches away from getting outshone in her own movie. 

“Hey, Cammie,” a new voice greeted her.

She looked up just as Preston perched on top of the picnic table and planted his feet on the bench beside her. He was in his Blackthorne uniform, too, and gazed longingly at the platter of donuts.

Cammie ducked out of her poncho and offered it to him. “Grab one. I’ve probably had enough, anyway.”

Preston pulled it on over his head and barely had it settled before snatching up a chocolate glazed donut. “You’re my favorite,” he said, nodding in Cammie’s direction. 

Cammie couldn’t help but smile. It felt cruel that Preston, the sweetest of all the Blackthorne boys, had to spend so much time with the ruthless villainess named Macey McHenry. Doing a quick head count, Cammie wondered where the third Blackthorne boy was.

More pressing, however, was the issue of Macey and Zach. Cammie couldn’t quite accept that they were at all romantically involved.

“Why them?” Cammie asked, not really expecting an answer. 

“Someone in PR’s idea of a practical joke, I’d guess,” Grant surmised. There was a smudge of powdered sugar on the tip of his nose. “They’re the two hottest.”

Preston and Cammie both scoffed indignantly.

Grant rolled his eyes. “Fine, they’re the most highly recognized for how hot they are.”

“I think I’m hot,” Preston said dejectedly.

“You are,” Cammie assured him supportively, softening her voice. She gave Grant a look, as if to urge him to back her up.

Grant sighed. “You’re fine, Preston.”

Cammie got back to the point. “So it’s just a publicity stunt? They’re not actually dating?”

“I don’t know,” Grant admitted. “If it’s just a lie for attention, then I get it, but I’m pretty sure they came in the same car today, so he spent the night with her.”

Cammie’s stomach turned.

Preston’s pretty eyes filled with concern. “You okay, Morgan?”

Before she had to lie her way out of that one, one of the script assistants shouted, “Dodson, Sutton, Cooper!”

Grant sat at attention, waiting for further instructions. 

The script assistant walked out to the picnic table with her clipboard at the ready. “Head to the second floor for the first library scene with Jessica, and don’t eat anything after that. We’re throwing you off the balcony.”

She handed Grant a packet of papers, then looked at the other two actors beside him. “You’re not who I want,” she muttered, then raised her voice again and continued to walk toward the trailers. “Sutton! Cooper!”

“Both present!” a male voice announced.

Cammie looked over her shoulder. Liz and Jonas were returning, both with coffee cups in hand. At Cammie’s confused expression, Liz giggled, then explained, “We paid a student to grab them from the student union Starbucks.”

“I thought he would take the cash and run,” Jonas admitted, smiling at his short companion.

The script assistant didn’t respond to either of them. “Sutton, you’re going to the second floor of the building with Dodson. Cooper, you’re needed in the courtyard.”

Grant got up to follow his orders, flipping through the papers he’d been given.

“Hold on, Union Jack,” Jonas said, catching Grant by the back of his blazer like a kitten by the scruff. He turned him around to face him and sighed in disappointment. With a deft thumb, Jonas swiped the powdered sugar off the side of Grant’s nose and dusted off his hands.

Grant lifted a hand to his face, then pulled it away, free of sugar. He beamed at Jonas. “My hero.”

“Give your stylist a gift card or something for dealing with you,” Jonas said, already walking away. He sounded like he was smiling. 

Grant waved at Cammie and Preston as he walked backwards toward the building. “See you later, guys!” He turned around and watched where he was headed mere moments before colliding with a stressed-out set tech.

Liz waved, too, and headed after him. She had to jog to keep up with his long strides.

Cammie thought her greatest concern of the moment would be figuring out which costume she needed to get on next until Preston put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m gonna find somewhere else to be,” he said quickly. 

Cammie’s brows knit together. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Hey, Morgan,” an irritatingly recognizable voice purred.

Cammie grit her teeth and braced for impact. Preston, already ten feet away, mouthed, “Sorry!”

Zach sidled over to the picnic table. He looked every inch a spy, every inch a heartbreaker. The black blazer and slacks he sported were perfectly tailored, and his tie was strategically askew, loosened just enough around his neck that the messy knot rested just above his sternum. His hair was tousled, his eyes dark and intense. Zach looked like the kind of dream boy teenagers everywhere would fawn over, and he knew it.

Cammie actively refused to fawn.

“Hi, Zach,” she said dully. “I actually need to get to costume, so I’ll take a rain check on our friendly banter for now.”

“I’d hardly call it friendly,” he said with a smirk. “You’re my fatal other half. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Cammie rolled her eyes and stood from the bench, but paused before she strode away. She looked back at Zach with a critical stare. “Wait, what did you say?”

His hand hovered over a bowl of black cherries, selecting the best one. Without looking up, he said, “You heard me. Fatal other half, Katherine Donovan.”

He looked up at Cammie through his eyelashes. A condescending smirk appeared on his lips. “Don’t worry, Gallagher girl, I haven’t read your precious book. That line’s in the script, too.”

Cammie swallowed hard. Her eyes told her she was speaking directly to the love interest in her favorite book, but her brain said he was an asshole. Her heart abstained from voting.

“Promise me something, Morgan,” Zach said. His eyes twinkled. “Don’t go falling in love with me when you realize I’m the best kisser you’ll ever meet.”

“I’ll promise you one thing,” Cammie hissed. “I will not let you take an important moment from my life and make it something sarcastic and stupid.”

“First kisses are always bad,” Zach shrugged. He popped a black cherry in his mouth and plucked the stem off from between his teeth. “You need to keep your feet on the ground,” he said around a mouthful of fruit.

“Why don’t you worry less about who I’m kissing and spend some time worrying about your own exploits?” Cammie snapped.

Zach went silent, brown eyes wide. Cammie took a bit of pride in the genuine surprise on his face, but only for a moment.

His crooked grin bloomed slowly. “Cameron Morgan, are you jealous?”

Cammie’s delight evaporated. “No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Cammie wasn’t sure if she believed herself. There was an unpleasant knot in her stomach, the kind that made her wonder how much she cared about Zach’s personal life. On the other hand, she knew that she didn’t like him at all, and she certainly didn’t want to date him. All he did was insult her, and he was taking way too much joy in being her inevitable first kiss.

“Don’t worry, Gallagher Girl,” Zach said. He tousled her hair and Cammie swatted at his hand, but he pulled away before she struck him. “It’s a publicity thing. I don’t want to get my hands on Macey any more than you do.”

Cammie bit her tongue and turned away before she could dig herself any deeper. Her cheeks felt hot. She didn’t like to think about why she felt so relieved that Zach and Macey weren’t actually involved.

Cammie didn’t care what Zach did. She didn’t care who he spent his nights with. She had a career on the line and a movie to film, and a legion of readers to make proud. Zach would be nothing but an unremarkable footnote in her story one day.

Maybe if she thought it enough, it would become true.

*

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