Ephemeral | kpop imagines

pre-game kisses - k.jh

my heart is already not listening to me, it's looking at you

One thing about my mother being the president of the athletics club means that I will stay busy nearly the entire school year. During the soccer season, that means running the concessions stand when she is unable to.

I'll admit- I am rather gifted at keeping track of our inventory and organizing the shelves just so. And since I'm in there for weeks before the season even fully starts, I get to watch the boys practice their drills. It beats physics homework for sure.

Our boys team is excellent this year; even the freshmen seem to be naturals. Of course, our star seniors are clearly the focus. Choi Minho, my brother, and Kim Jonghyun, his best friend, have had the most delicious and prolific soccer careers in possibly the history of our entire school. Which isn't saying much for a middle-of-nowhere bohunk town like ours, but it means the world for them.

I don't mind waiting for Minho to finish practice to close up the concessions. Sometimes the boys come over for gatorades or skittles, which is why I even open up during practices. But the main reason I'm here while they run laps and dribble endlessly is because Minho's car broke down at the end of summer, which means I'm his ride to and from school. Where he has to be, I must be, and thus, my current predicament.

I must reiterate: I don't mind hanging out at the soccer fields waiting for my superstar soccer player brother to move his sweaty behind into the passenger seat of my second hand sedan. Minho is my best friend, and he would do the same for me. Maybe.

In any case, I certainly don't mind the view.

A couple of freshmen and sophomores drop by for their regular gatorades. I make a mental note to request more donations of the berry mix.

After I put their cash in the register and hand them their change, I pull out my math textbook and jot down notes dutifully. Tuning out the jeering and general teen boy chatter has become second nature to me. I don't even notice when a few of them run by on their lap until one of them wolf-whistles at me.

"Smart girls are so sexy," he calls as he jogs by, but I don't even look up.

Ugh. Gross.

"Dude, are you braindead? That's literally Minho's sister, and he will pummel you for even looking at her for too long."

"I bet I could pull her..."

The conversation fades from my hearing as they march back to the rest of their group. I cringe mentally and physically. Maybe I don't enjoy watching these practices so much.

A soft knock at the side door distracts me from my momentary disgust. I hop up and pull it open. On the other side awaits one Kim Jonghyun, sweaty and glorious.

"Hey," he greets, "Minho asked me to grab a gatorade for us to split. Any left?"

"Yeah," I say, shuffling to the refrigerator, "Any flavor preference?"

"Anything not lemon," he says, leaning against the door frame as his breathing evens out.

"Watermelon work?"

"Sounds delicious,"

I toss him the bottle. "Have at it."

He catches it with ease. "Thanks, Mirae." His eyes are twinkling playfully. "Any other goodies to share?"

My eyebrow arches skeptically. "Why should I share with you?"

"I ratted out the freshman who hit on you to Minho," Jonghyun grins.

I fight my matching smile. "Okay, well, thank you. You want a nerd rope? They're not really high selling."

"Are you calling me a nerd?"