(A/N SO.. I totally just realized I had never published this full story.. I found my journal I had written it in years ago, and why not upload the rest of it on here, right? I know it's like really terrible.. so I'll try to fix it a little as I type it up, but yeah.. key word here is try, guys. Thanks to whoever reads this bologna!) 

"Trystan, were you watching me?" I ask, pointing my finger at him accusingly.

"How could I not? You're really good with kids." He replies with a smirk. 

"Am not," I argue.

"Are too, sweetheart," he retorts, his smirk growing even smirkier. 

"Am not!" I say, getting pretty agitated now. Does this boy know when to tell a girl she's right? Even if she's 100% wrong. 

He looks at his mother, "Mom?" he asks, his face showing no emotion. 

"Yes, Trystan," his mother replies. "She is." And he looks back at me, smirking once again. Does this boy have any other facial expression?

"It's not a bad thing, Charlie," he says. I ignore him. "Aww, come on, Charlie!" he whines, and I walk away with a smile on my face, satisfied with his response. 

He follows me, so I decide to be hard-headed and I walk out the back door. Turns out, they have an inground pool. I grin, getting an idea, a malicious idea. 

I walk over to the edge of the pool, and Trystan, who can't see my face, is still under the impression that I'm upset with him, follows me. When I know he's right behind me, I turn around to face him, trying to keep a blank expression on my face. I put my hands on his shoulders, and I smile. He smiles back, and that's when I grip his shoulders as hard as I possibly can and shove him into the pool, which is now right behind me, only to have him grab my still-outstretched hands and pull me in right next to him. What a jerk. 

When me head bobs back to the surface and I catch my breath, he smirks at me. "I thought you might try that. I thought I might as well have some fun with it." He says, sounding pretty amused with himself. 

"Oh, yeah?" I challenge. 

"Yup, you are so predictable." Well, now I'm offended. 

"Am. Not."

"Are too," he replies. 

"Ugghh!" I grunt, getting out of the pool. 

"Charlie!" He calls as I start running toward the door. "Wait up." I hear him get out of the water. I purposefully slow down, so he can catch up, because I'm not so sure I should waltz right into the house dripping wet. "Charlie, let's ask my mom for towels. She wouldn't be very happy if we went into the house soaking wet." He says thoughtfully, and I smirk. Oh, yeah? That's just what I was thinking. Who's predictable now? Oh, not Trystan. Trystan's mom..