The Art of Balancing » work in progress

CH. 6 : "What are you, the National Enquirer?"

"Somehow I don't think this is what Mr. Swinley meant when he said we had to spend time together." I groan, adjusting the focus on my camera. In view was the lovely site of my two shirtless partners, Graham and Landon, heaving after a jog with the soccer team.

I don't know how this was even arranged or why I thought this would be a different situation, but at least we were getting our time in for the week. And I'll be honest. It's not like it was torture watching the varsity boys soccer team get all sweaty. Sue me.

"What did you have in mind then?" Graham asks as he raises his arms over his head and stretches. Landon collapses on the grass with a sigh. I give him a pathetic laugh.

"I don't know." I shrug while snapping a picture of Landon. I move to Graham. "This is more.. me documenting your soccer practice. Aren't we supposed to get to know each other?" I ask. When there's silence, I take the camera away from my face to see both of them smirking at me. "NOT THAT I WANT TO. I just want to do the project right, that's all."

"I'm sure that's all it is, definitely." Landon mumbles as he gets back to his feet. I roll my eyes and go back to taking pictures.

Landon starts doing some jumping jacks, and that's when I notice the rest of the soccer boys are packing up and heading to their cars. Had I seriously been waiting around for two entire hours and managed to survive?

"She has a point." Graham nods. I remove the camera again and raise my eyebrow. "How are we supposed to take any pictures ourselves if we're just playing soccer? The last thing I need is another bad assignment with Swinley and if the only pictures we turn in are of us playing soccer, we're screwed."

"We could just use practice as a back up." Landon suggests. "If we're too busy to do something, Violet can just come to a practice. We might not get pictures but it counts for time, right?" He says and I nod. That was pretty fair.

"The rest of this week, though, I'm watching Emma." I say. "I could only come today because she went home with one of her friends so..."

"Shit!" Graham yells, then quickly grabs his shirt. "What time is it? I was supposed to leave early to go to her ballet class." He's now running around the side of the field, desperately throwing things into his bag and wondering aloud where his CamelBak is. "Watching her stupid class was literally the only thing I had to do all week. What time is it?!" He demands again.

Landon and I both exchange a look and I check the watch on my wrist. "It's 5:15."

"My dad is going to kill me." Graham stops pacing to place his hands on his face. "I need to go pick her up and figure out how to bribe her into not telling him." He mutters, finally finding his water bottle. He salutes Landon and I, makes it half way to his car, and turns back around.

"Forget something?" I ask. He sighs.

"Are you coming or not?" He calls out. He turns back around and heads to his Jeep, bag slung over his shoulder. I tell Landon goodbye and run to catch up with him. When I reach his side, he scoffs. "Did you expect me to collect you like a 5 year old?"

"No." I snap. "I just wanted to see if you'd actually leave," I pause, "like Tuesday morning."

"I was in a rush!" He defends himself and I only laugh.

I don't mean to pester him; he's actually been pretty nice this week. Since I don't have a car at Reid's, he's willingly taken me to school each day so far when he doesn't have to. I can appreciate it.

"And I came back, didn't I?"

"That you did." I mumble.

I slide into the passenger seat and Graham is speeding out of the athletic parking lot before I've even buckled my seat belt. He's tapping his fingers on the wheel so anxiously, that it's only when we reach a red light that I speak up.