Kissing A Fool

KAF: (1)

Travis and Dylan on the side! Check it out! :D

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Travis:

I waited for her under the blazing sunlight, shielding my face with my school bag. My patience was waning thin by the minute. Nearly every single student had gone home and I was left to wait for the one person who was capable of making my mood grow sour every time I was around her. I wouldn’t mind waiting for anyone else besides Ashley and it was only her who likes making my life miserable.

"Travis babe, could you please walk me home? Please, please, please?” pleaded the petite, pretty-looking girl who persisted to tug on my arm, thinking I was going to surrender to her plea.

Damn, I nearly forgotten about the girl who followed me out of class. Who was this girl anyway? I don’t even know her name. I don’t really keep track of their names unless I wanted to remember them. If they impressed me that much, I would remember. I knew she was just another pretty face that I had to put up with everyday at school. Most of them were practically strangers who pretended they knew me, or made an effort in trying to get to know me. And frankly, I was getting tired of it. Just because I had a reputation of being the most coolest and most cutest guy in school, all the girls assumed that they had a chance with me. It seems to always work that way, doesn’t it? There’s always got to be that one cool guy everyone looked up to and respected. Don’t take it the wrong way. I don’t mind being labeled as the coolest guy. I admit, I do believe that I was the most cutest guy in school because the majority of girls seems to think so and half the guys hated me for it. They all assume that I was this flirt who went around asking for every girl’s number, dated a different girl every day, and carries around one of the biggest ego. The funniest rumors I ever heard floating around, was the one where they thought I changed my cell phone number and buy a new phone every week because I had too many girls calling me. That one started because of the girls. The other one was from the guys. They all thought I was gay because I was better looking than most of them. Ha! Believe it or not, they even created a website to get their message across. Isn’t that a little over-the-top? Truthfully, if I didn’t have my uncle’s name to back me up, I don’t think I would ever get this popular or have my fellow students showing me any respect. If they thought they could gain popularity by hanging around me, they thought wrong. Because Travis Montgomery is your average guy, hiding under a false façade. Hey, nobody is perfect right? 

Another tug on my arm drew me back to reality.

“Babe, are you even listening to me?” Geez, there it goes again. The tiring over-usage of the word Babe.

“I can’t walk you home because I have to go somewhere,” I lied.

She pouted, and then folded her arms together while stomping her feet against the grass.“But, you promised me yesterday!”

She was a liar. I’ve made no such promises. Even if I did, I would have remembered. Girls these days can be so manipulative. Not to mention, just plain annoying for that matter.

Quickly scanning my eyes for some help, I spotted my friend Dylan who was whispering sweet nothings into some girl’s ears. He was fairly tall, standing around five ten. He had broad shoulders and an athletes physique. Any girl who would look his way will find him undeniably attractive. It was his hair that was his personal signature. He had three different shades of color in it, matching the autumn season. Dylan preferred the tousled style. The kind of hair that you would run your fingers through without having to brush it. The kind that covers apart of his face so that you would have to flick it back. Notice how I get a little descriptive when it comes to his hair? He treated like he had a puppy on his head. If that wasn’t enough, he always had to carry around a pair of shades everywhere he went because he’s ashamed of his blue eyes. As for this flirting. If there was anyone who an expert at wooing a girl, Dylan was the man. Sweetmouth Dylan is what they like to call him.