Chapter 7

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I wake up to the sun shining on my face. I want to stretch but somebody is holding me, Cameron. I smile at the peaceful boy that holds me and think of last night, how we talked and laughed. How he felt responsible for me. It was the cutest thing. Him being overprotective, annoying, but cute.

He slowly moves his arm and opens his eyes tiredly, scanning around the room and then his eyes find mine, "Good morning," I whisper. "Good morning," He says in a raspy voice while running a hand through his hair. Then my phone rings and the screen displays and unknown number. I answer, "Hello?" "Rosalie? Hey," I hear somebody say.

"Who is this?" I ask and bit the corner of my lip and frown. "Oh, this is Justin. Yeah, Steve wants everybody to come to the gym. But do you know where Cameron is? I can't get hold of him, you see," He says. "Yeah, he's here with me," I say and mentally slap myself and brace myself for what is about to come. "With you? This early?" I heard amusement in his voice. "Yes, does that bother you?" He chuckles on the other end, "No, but tell me, did he sleep at your place?" I can just see him raise his fuzzy eyebrows. "Yes, he did. Any other questions?" I ask annoyed. "Did you guys-" "No! We'll be there in ten, bye Justin," I said quickly and I ended the call.

I look at Cameron to see him smirk. "What?" "You are blushing." "I am not!" I exclaim and feel my cheeks burn, it's true, damn it. I get up and walk to the kitchen, still in my outfit from yesterday. "Want some coffee?" I ask. "Yes please," Cameron says in a British accent. I laugh and poor the fresh coffee into the mugs I get out of the drawer. "We have to be at the gym in ten," I say whilst giving Cameron his coffee.

The guards that stand in front of the door send me glares before opening the door, I just find it quite amusing that such 'though' guys can be pissed off that easily. Cameron and I wait in the main hall and sit down for a while and I notice that we are very early, nobody is here, except for us. I feel like all this is so exaggerated, really what could be so important that you wake teenagers up at 9 o'clock in the morning?

"You'll get used to the early morning," Says Cameron with a smile, as if he is reading my thoughts. "Really?" I ask unconvinced. He shakes his head with a slight laugh, "No." I laugh, "Well thanks for the encouragement, Ty." He stands up and walks behind my chair, "You are very welcome Mrs. Stephens," He says and then he softly slaps me in my face, though it didn't hurt at all, I am the person to want revange for that. And Cameron knows that.

After a few minutes off running after him, he has his back to one of the marble walls. I slap him in the face and then I walk back to the table just to sit down, but I'm picked up and Cameron starts to spin around. I squeal and laugh at his stupidity, we are not in a sappy romance movie. "Cam, put me down," I laugh. To my suprise, he listens and puts me back on the ground.

Then somebody clears their throat and we look up to see Justin standing there, in all his glory. His hair is not in it's usual style but ruffled and messy. He was wearing a grey v-neck and baggy jeans. He has that 'just out of bed' look all over him, and it looks pretty good on him.

"Are you sure you guys didn't-" "Don't," I say as I glare at him. Okay, he may be handsome and all but he's still a major douche bag. Justin winks, then smirks and says, "So how was your night? I bet you guys had a lot of fun, am I right?"

Finally everybody is here and Steve makes everybody go silent, "Okay, so as usual we have our schedules for training and MM'ing, which stands for Master Minding. We will create two groups of three people, Carl will lead the training, I'll do the MM'ing. At the end of the week we all come together for an evolution," Steve lays a stack of folders on the table, each has the name of the gang member stamped on it, "Here are your folders which include your schedules and also a personal letter. I will see you soon," Steve says, and with that he walks away, leaving us behind in the marble hall.

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