"Liz," you said carefully, scanning through the pictures on the computer, "Do you see a problem with any of these?"

The brown-haired girl peered over your shoulder and stared carefully at the screen before pulling away. "No," she answered, made nervous by your tone.

You clicked to another, then another. "Well I do," you told the Hungarian girl, "These are all of Alfred!"

She grinned sheepishly, "Well, he is the captain of the team so-"

"You know that's not how this works," you snapped at her before taking a deep breath. "Can you go to their practice tonight and pay attention to what's going on as opposed to one person?"

An embarrassed blush crawled across her cheeks and she mumbled, "No."

You raised an eyebrow. "No?" you repeated.

Suddenly the ground was very interesting to the usually fearless girl. "I have archery tonight. If I miss another practice I'll have to quit."

Sighing, you closed your (e/c) eyes and leaned back in your chair. "Fine," you groaned, standing up and grabbing your Yearbook ID and the camera that you had wiped and disconnected from the computer. You only waved your hand in response to Liz's frantic "thank you"s.

Severely annoyed that yet another Yearbook member had failed you so close to the progress report, you stomped your way across the school to the parking lot, slammed into your car, and drove to the city park where, in 10 minutes, the boy's Varsity basketball team would begin their practice.

Not the way you wanted to begin your Saturday.

Tugging open one of the large, metal doors, you were attacked with the smell of sweat. Your nose crinkled, but you pushed past it and made your way into the back office where you knew the coach would be.

"Hey, Mr. B!" you called out to the man. He grinned at you and asked if another of your classmates had shoved their job onto you.

You laughed, "Not exactly. They're all just very interested in one of your players." You stressed the words as they came from your mouth.

The old coach was about to respond when someone burst through the doors. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself as you scanned the room for good shots and angles.

The group swarmed into the gym and immediately made a beeline for the basketballs. They got into groups without any direction from their coach and began passing and shooting at different baskets hanging from the ceilings.

With a small smile, you carefully made your way around the room as to not disturb those who were working diligently. A few chatted quietly while they caught rebounds and threw them back out to whoever was shooting at the time, but the room was mostly silent. Except for one court.

At this particular court, Alfred F. Jones was talking loudly to the other members of his group, making you cringe. You stayed away from his end of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Al's Point of View~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was confused and impressed. The girl walking around with the camera today wasn't sitting in one place, or texting, or taking pictures of me. Which was weird. All the other girls had been glued to the floor just in front of me, but she was slowly pacing the room, taking photos of everyone doing everything. When she looked up from the viewfinder, I caught her eye and flashed her a grin.

Her (e/c) eyes narrowed and she jerked the camera back up to her face to take another picture just as one of the guys at her court made a shot.

She was good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to You!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Practice ended and you were relatively proud of many of the shots you had taken. So, as a treat to yourself, you lingered at the park. Carefully holding your camera down at your side, you ran across the street before the basketball team could run you over. Curious, you peered at a old wooden sign next to what appeared to be an abandoned hiking trail. With a childish smile of wonderment on your face, you stepped down the old stones that created a makeshift set of stairs.

Your footsteps were silent as you walked down the leave-covered stones, trying to catch photos of wildlife in the quiet of the morning. Just as you were about to take another picture of a rather brave squirrel, you heard the boisterous laughter of male voices up the stairs from you. The squirrel ran off.

Groaning, you picked your way back up the steps, careful not to step on any of the leaves as you walked up. The stones were beautiful. You took pictures of everything.

Directing your viewfinder up to the branches stretching over the sky, you spun in a tight circle for a better shot.

And slipped.

Letting out a little squeak, you felt your feet leave the ground as you fell off of the natural platform only a few feet over the main path.

You crashed into something relatively soft and, after clearing your head of the sharp ringing, realized you could've damaged your camera. Jumping off of whatever you landed on, you ignored the dull pain in your back as well as the shallow cut caused by the low-hanging branches you had tumbled through.

A concerned male voice floated up from where you had landed, "Are you O-"

"My camera!" you wailed, noticing a long crack running over the live view screen. Groaning, you ran your finger over the glass, not expecting the sharp glass to cut you. You gasped and shook your hand as you gently placed the still-usable camera on a rotting wooden bench. Blowing on the fresh cut, you looked back at who you had landed on.

He, as well as two other boys from the basketball team, were looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

Making a noise that sounded like a whale's dying breath, you flopped down next to your camera and acknowledged the boys. "Hey, Alfred."

He was dumbstruck. "Hi."

His blonde hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled. "Sorry for landing on you," you apologized, choosing to look at the small bead of crimson forming on your finger. You wiped it on your jeans.

"It's fine."

Noticing that your hand was shaking from the fall, you stood up hurriedly. "Well," you told him, blushing only slightly, "I'm gonna go upload these photos so," you trailed off and attempted to catch yourself, "yeah. I'll- I'll see you at school on Monday."

You rushed off, and Alfred stared after you for a while after you had gone. "Yeah," he mumbled, "See ya."