Football season was a cancer. It metastasized through the school, turning everyone into rabid fans or, worse, players. The stench of sweat and cheap cologne hung heavy in the air, and the constant roar of the crowd was a migraine waiting to happen. And then there were the booths. Monstrous contraptions that sprouted like ugly mushrooms, each one a desperate plea for cash to fund some extracurricular activity the school was too cheap to cover. The cheerleading squad, of course, was always underfunded, the excuse being a lack of interest in the sport. Bullshit, you thought, as you stared at the absurdly short skirt you were forced to wear.

Hyein, your best friend and cheer captain, was a force of nature. Infectious laughter, a heart of gold, and an uncanny ability to charm anyone. She was also the mastermind behind the kissing booth, an idea so utterly mortifying it should have been illegal. You’d tried to reason with her, to suggest something less...intimate. But Hyein was on a mission. She’d been matchmaking you since kindergarten, convinced you were destined for a grand love story. You were destined for a quiet life with a good book, thank you very much.

So here you were, trapped behind a stupid pink curtain, a Sylvia Plath novel your only solace. The world outside was a cacophony of cheers and whistles, a constant reminder of your predicament. You were lost in a world of dark poetry when a shadow loomed over you. A chuckle, deep and arrogant, pulled you from your refuge. Jake Sim, the football captain, stood there, a smirk plastered on his face.

The epitome of the football jock, Jake was everything you despised. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that launched a thousand ships, or at least a thousand teenage fantasies. He was a walking, talking cliché, and yet, there was an undeniable charisma to him. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you felt a strange flutter in your chest. It was probably indigestion.