Punk Isn't Romantic

Mediocre football team

Dean

I hummed along to an acoustic cover of a Dylan Matthew's song as I set up my booth for the fair. I was beyond excited for the fair to begin; it was always a great evening every year and my girlfriend couldn't wait to go on the Ferris wheel. She had been telling me constantly this past wee that we had to get a cute photo of us kissing at the top.

I hammered the 'kissing booth' sign to the wooden stand and stepped back, admiring my work.

 Kate, my girlfriend, wasn't too happy about me working a kissing booth since I was taken but it was for charity, so she didn't really argue with it. I wasn't too thrilled either, but the entire team had to help out with this booth, so it wouldn't be fair on the others if I backed out. 

I'd told Kate that I wasn't excited about having to kiss a hundred strangers but that there was nothing I could do. I was pretty sure treat some of the guys on the team had set this up with the pure intentions of getting to kiss a bunch of people, but it wasn't my idea. I had to admit, it would definitely raise a lot of money, so it wasn't a bad idea.

"Hey, shit for brains!" I heard a mocking voice yell in my direction, "Booths like this are the reason people have oral infections."

I furrowed my eyebrows with a frown, turning to see who the hell was yelling at me. I rolled my eyes as I saw the schools resident misfits walking by, cigarettes in hand. Obviously they were skipping lessons to smoke by the bleachers because they were cool and edgy like that. I had permission to miss my last lesson to help set up, but I highly doubt that they did.

There were just two of them for once. Usually there were around six or seven who hung out together, so I never really took any notice of them as individuals. The one who had yelled was smirking over at me, stood up on the bleachers and watching everyone set up. He was pointing people out to his friend and taking the piss out of them but it seemed more like he was talking to himself; his friend was definitely not listening.

The other guy didn't seem to take notice of anyone around him. He was in his own world as he leaned back in his chair on the bleachers, his head strewn back and looking at the clouds as he took long drags of his cigarette with his dr. marten clad feet kicked up on the chair in front of him. The way he blew smoke carelessly into the air made something stir in my stomach and I couldn't stop watching his smooth lips wrap around the cancer stick as he let smoke puff out his nose like it was second nature.

The smoke curled like a snake as it slithered out of his nose before dissipating into the cold air. Something about watching his chest heave each time he took a drag stirred something in me and my mouth went dry while watching.

I shook my head, whipping my head around again to concentrate on my booth and not on some misfit. His friend continued to yell and shout at me while I worked and I could feel my cheeks flaming with annoyance and slight anger. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? It wasn't like I was the only one participating in this, so why was I the target?

I turned the volume of my music up and tried to tune him out. I should report them to the principle. Not only were they ditching classes right now but they were also smoking on school premises, which I would bet my life was against school rules. Just then I saw Kate walking towards me. She had a small smile on her lips as she jogged slightly, her tennis shoes thudding against the grass as she jumped and tackled me in a hug. She clearly had dance practice soon since she had her dance clothes on.

"Hey, babe." She pecked my lips.

"Hey." I set her down and turned my music down so that we could talk.

"How are you? Working hard?" She grinned, watching me hammer stuff.

"My gran could swing harder than that! You suck at putting wood shit together!" The guy yelled, laughing at me, which made Kate's eye twitch with rage.

"Excuse you? I don't see you over here doing manual labour for charity!" Kate yelled at him, placing her manicured hands on her hips, angrily.

"Please!" The guy burst out laughing, "Charity? Charity is helping refugees and stuff, not taking money from students for your stupid, mediocre football team."

He wasn't wrong, but he didn't need to be a dick about it.

Kate was about to fire back but then paused, an evil smile bracing her lips. She began to run off yelling that she was going to go and find the head teacher and the guy groaned, jogging back up the bleachers steps to shake the laidback, smoker dude. The smoker groaned and took a final draw of his cancer stick, letting the smoke out slowly as he made eye contact with me. I blushed, since he caught me staring, and he lazily raised an eyebrow. He stood up and, with a wink, strolled off towards the school before the principle could show up.

By this point, my face was burning so hot that I had to take my jacket off to cool down. I could barely keep my head straight with how much that had affected me. I mean, he was undeniably an attractive guy, but I had a girlfriend.

"Where did they go, Dean?" Kate asked furiously, storming up to me and looking around for the two guys. 

I saw her eyes flit across my red, blushing face with curiosity but shrugged it off.

"I didn't see." I mumbled. 

I felt like hitting myself over the head. I don't know why I lied, but I did. I guess I just didn't want Kate running after them, kicking up a fuss and ruining the mood right before the fair.

"I'm finished here, so I'm going to go and change, but once my shift is done I'll meet you by the Ferris wheel?"

"Of course, baby." Kate grinned, kissing me on the mouth again. 

I nodded at her and walked off to find somewhere I could change into what I would be wearing tonight.

As I walked along the side of the school, I caught sight of the guy from earlier now sat on the fire exit steps, his long limbs sprawled out in front of him. He had the longest legs I had ever seen and they were clad in baggy, army trousers with the ends of them tucked into his socks that just peeked out from his leather boots. He had on a bulky belt with a few chains attached, holding up his trousers and his baggy black 'Ramones' t shirt was torn in a few places by the collar bone, letting me see the pale skin through it.

I suppose he was a punk, but he just looked so effortless sexy. Like a model, stretched across the steps while smoking.

His soft black hair spilled out around his face, framing it perfectly. His jaw flexed and I could see that his jawline was sharp as he sucked in more smoke. His cheeks went hollow as he did, only emphasising his bone structure further. When he breathed the smoke out again, I felt my mouth go dry once again, watching the smoke curl and dissipate into the air as it came out his mouth. I could see he had a bar, a piercing, that went through the top of one of his ears as well as a small septum piercing, black like his nose ring. 

His leather jacket was truly a work of art and it fitted him perfectly, clinging to his body in all of the right places. It looked well worn and had patches, studs and doodles drawn all over it. It was the kind of jacket that you could tell he wore every day.

"Come over instead of staring." His voice interrupted my thoughts, rather suddenly. 

It was so deep and husky that it made my stomach flip again. His gaze locked with mine and I stared into his stormy grey eyes as they swirled with amusement, obviously trying to figure out who I was and why I was staring at him. 

"I don't bite... much." He winked.