notes: i just wrote three chapters in one night; i'm so close to being done! hopefully by the end of this year i can get these all posted. thanks to everyone who reviews!

xii. watermelon

There's still a lot she doesn't know about Troy Burrows. Despite being their leader and hanging out with them after school, Troy is not exactly forthcoming with personal details. The most she knows is that he likes to work out alone in the forest.

So, Emma does what photographers do best. She starts noticing. It takes a while, because most of her time with Troy is spent either in battle, in class, or at Ernie's with the others where he sits quietly and sometimes smiles at a joke.

But she's good at noticing. First: he likes raspberry smoothies. She's not sure if it's a color-coding thing, but they are significantly redder than her own favorite strawberry smoothies.

Second: he does like strawberry fro-yo, which is a plus. None of her other friends have such good taste (it's definitely a color-coding thing, because Jake likes mint chocolate chip and Noah like blueberry and Gia likes mango. All of which Emma finds gross. Strawberry is definitely the best.)

Third: he looks really good shirtless, which, of course, she knew already. But it's one thing to see him shirtless with the whole team around, whether during training or at the beach or at the pool. It's another when it's just the two of them in the woods and she's watching him kick water bottles around like he has a grudge against them.

"What do you have against water bottles?" she asks from where she's leaning against a tree, sipping on watermelon soda (the closest he had to strawberry today). Troy straightens up and looks at her curiously, water bottles scattered morosely around his feet.

"Nothing," he says, confused. "They're good for practice. You would know if you ever tried it."

Emma raises her eyebrows. "Unlike you, I have no reason to decimate a small army of water bottles," she says primly, and is rewarded by a snort of laughter as he kicks water bottles out of his way so he can join her under the shade of her tree.

"Can I have some?" he asks instead of reply and she passes him her watermelon soda can. "So, why do you come out here to help me train, if not to enjoy watching me decimate my army of water bottles, Emma?"

His voice has a definite note of teasing in it, and Emma giggles despite herself. "Maybe I enjoy the view," she suggests.

She's flirting. She knows it and he knows it, and she knows he knows it. The problem is, even with all that time spent observing Troy Burrows, it's still hard to know what he's thinking, or what he's feeling, or, god help her, what he's going to do.

Fourth: he also looks really cute when he's blushing.

"That doesn't seem fair," he finally says, eyeing her thoughtfully over the soda can. "You're benefitting from the innocent water bottles getting beaten up?"

Emma laughs, crossing her arms as she watches him finish off the watermelon soda. "You have a point. How can I possibly make it up to your poor water bottles?"

Whatever she expects him to do, it's not to lean down to the cooler, grab a fresh water bottle, open it up, and pour it unceremoniously over her head, completely soaking her hair and face and clothes. Her jaw drops as she stares at him, then down at her now-transparent light pink dress, sticking to her skin.

"There," Troy says, infuriatingly amused, shooting her a grin that verges on the wrong side of mischievous. "The water bottles get their revenge, and now we both have great views."

Emma gapes at him, stunned at his ability to – well, to flirt. He looks her up and down one more time, making her cheeks flush, then grins at her again and pushes himself off the tree to return to his workout.

Emma stands very still under the shade of the maple tree and plots.

(Fifth: he's also a really good kisser.)

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