After a couple days in the pit of hell, also called “school,” Holly was glad for the weekend to be here. It was Friday night, which was usually Hayley and Holly’s “Gig Night.” They would go to a random club around the square where a band was playing and after they’d have a sleepover at Holly’s. It was their favorite day of the week by far.

This Friday was different. Brendon’s band, Panic! At The Disco, were playing up at the City Point. It was a pretty unknown place and kind of dingy, but when you’re a local band, you’ll take the best you can get. They were hoping to get a gig at The Paradox, but the owners there said they couldn’t book a group as “immature to the music industry” as Panic!. So basically, Brendon said, “Fuck them,” and went back to the club where it was only known to a few punk rock kids and stoners.

Hayley and Holly got their front seats at the gig, like they always did. They weren’t actually sitting at all, but they didn’t mind standing. It gave them more room to dance and stay away from creepy thirty year old potheads. Brendon loved when people danced to his band’s stuff anyways. That’s what he wanted to do in life, he had said once: “I want to make music, make people dance, and forget about their troubles.” He also had mentioned something about quoting Shakespeare at the worst moments, but let’s leave that to Holly’s distress.

The blonde had touched her friend’s shoulder at the end of a song, yelling over the guitars, “I’m going go out and have a smoke!”

“Don’t get kidnapped!” Hayley yelled back with a grin.

Holly just shook her head and made her way through sweaty bodies to the back of the club, where most of the troubled people with a smoking problem went. Holly didn’t want to be classified as one of those people, I mean she wasn’t troubled or anything. Despite getting into some awful fights with her parents and her grades being average, not to mention that you could see her always bumming a cigarette off of someone, she wasn’t troubled. She wasn’t any normal Baltimore teen, but troubled? Not in the slightest.

Leaning against one of the crumbling cement walls―which had a horrible navy paint job, might I add―Holly lit the end of her cigarette and blew out a drag. It was actually a beautiful night. The air had just a slight chill to it, but other than that, it was a nice September night, and Holly was going to enjoy it.

Just as she blew out another cloud of smoke, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Can I bum a cig off of you?” Holly’s own cigarette hung loose on her mouth as she turned, startled to see the person behind her.

“Mr. Gaskarth?”

He was looking through his pockets for his lighter when he glanced up at her, realizing he had randomly met up with his most interesting student yet again. “Holly?” He lifted both his caterpillar eyebrows.

The blonde smiled, plucking the cigarette from her mouth. “I didn’t know you liked my boyfriend’s band.”

“I didn’t know you could get into an 18 or older club.”

She held up her fake I.D. that she got with Hayley on her sixteenth birthday. “Made by the best guy in Baltimore.”

“Whoa, this actually looks real.” He took the plastic card from her hands, examining it. “How―?”

She shrugged. “A hand-job can sometimes get you anything.”

He looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m kidding.” She chuckled, taking back her fake I.D. and putting it back in her jacket. “God, Mr. Gaskarth, you’ll believe anything, won’t you?”

“Things are just a tad bit different since I went to school …” He buckled his shoulders against the air.

“I guess so.” She laughed softly, pulling out her pack and grasping one cigarette from it. “Does the offer still stand?”

He nodded and took it as she handed it to him. “I should get you an award, Miss Wolfe.”

She shot him a glare. “What did I say before?”

“Holly,” he repeated. “I meant, Holly.”

She smiled. “Much better.”

They seemed to go on like that for a half an hour, talking back and forth about school and music and everything in between. Mr. Gaskarth could finally determine his view on Holly: she was strange―that she was―but intriguing. She wasn’t like a normal teenage girl, what with her “best fake I.D. made in Baltimore” and always a carton of cigarettes at hand. The stories she told would’ve really scared him off with a woman around his age. But hearing these kinds of stories coming from a seventeen year old, it was different. He found them more funny and exciting. He also couldn’t deny that her face itself was attention-grabbing, but that’s for later in the story.

That Holly Wolfe was different. That she was.

After stamping her foot down on her useless cigarette, Holly pulled out her phone. “Shit, the show’s almost over. I need to get back to Hayley.” She threw him a sympathetic smile.

“Uh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck and took a drag. “I don’t want to hold you up or anything.”

“I guess I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Gaskarth.” She gave him a small wave and opened the heavy back door, but not before he could mention one last thing.

“Alex.”

She turned. “Huh?”

“We’re outside of school, Holly,” he smirked. “Call me, Alex.”

She couldn’t help her cheeks flushing a bright red. “I’ll remember that.”

Notes

Holly's outfit :3
God dammit, I've really never written a Student/Teacher fic before, so if this story ends up different than normal Student/Teacher fics, I'M SORRY<3 But I kinda want this to be different so this story can be unique and not just a normal Student/Teacher fic. I'm sorry, I'm rambling again xD
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