Meet Our Losers
This is a story about six teenagers, all with very different backgrounds, lives and personalities. The only thing they have in common is that they go to the same high school and are all going to the same summer camp for the summer, when suddenly they find themselves on a mission in space, so secret that they don't even know what it is.
It's a story about adventure, suspense, action, friendship and romance. It's a story with mysteries, monsters and surprises around every corner as well as nail-biting suspense and even a little danger.
And it starts, like many good stories, with a high school…
Tony sighed as he pulled up in the school’s parking lot. ‘Okay Stark, you can do this. Last day of school, then summer. You’ll be okay.’ He groaned and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He wasn’t doing a very good jump pumping himself up for his final day of sophomore year, but he also knew he could stay in in car forever, so just grabbed his bag and got out of the car.
“Okay, let’s just this this over with.” He locked the car and slowly started to make his towards the school. He thought back to what Jarvis had said to him before he left and sighed.
‘Have a nice day at school, young sir.’
Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head. Yeah, like high school ever had any ‘good days’. Especially when you have little to no friends. Sure, he had Rhodey and Pepper and he sometimes talked a little to Bruce Banner in science class and math class, but it wasn’t much against the rest of the school hating his guts.
He adjusted the bag straps over his shoulders, took a deep breath and started to walk towards the school, hoping he could disappear in the crowd.
‘Come on, last day of school Tony, you can do this.’
But he hardly got to finish that thought before he was stopped just as he entered the building. And surprise, surprise it was Tiberius Stone, followed by Aldrich Killian and Justin Hammer, his little posse of wannabes and assholes.
Tony closed his eyes and held back a tired and frustrated groan. Not even five seconds into school and he already ran into them. That had to be some kind of record. But he knew better than to let any of his frustrations or anger show, because that was exactly what they wanted after all. So he plastered on his best ‘PR Smile’ as he had dubbed it and looked Ty right in the eyes.
“Hi, guys! Stone, Killian, Hammer, always a pleasure. Come to wish me a happy summer already? Aw, that’s sweet of you guys; you didn’t have to do that! Also, isn’t it a bit early for that?“ Ty smirked wickedly at him and stepped forward, his smile very wide but his eyes were unsettling, the way they always were.
“Hey Tony. We just wanted to talk a little, you know, like friends do.” Tony only barely managed to hold himself back from visibly shuddering, because the way he said the word ‘friends’ made his skin crawl. It always did.
Justin sneered at him, taking a step forward.
“Yeah, can’t a couple of guys just talk without it meaning anything?” Tony almost rolled his eyes. Seriously, if Justin weren’t hanging around Ty and Aldrich all the time, he would never see him as a threat or even a bully. He was nothing but a wannabe who was trying way too hard to be cool and suave but was failing on that front, even when he was hanging around them like a lost puppy.
Basically, Hammer was Heather Duke and Ty was Heather Chandler.
If only Tony could be more like Veronica in this moment.
Aldrich came up to him and- while he wasn’t as popular or as bad as Ty- he was way more suave and manipulative than Hammer. He was a bit cooler than Ty, not quick to anger and could almost make Tony play into a lot of schemes. Thankfully Tony knew better now and refused to listen to anything he said, but he was still a very smooth talker.
“We just wanted to check up on an old friend, Tony. Like, how have you been doing lately? Come on, you can’t be surprised that we’re wondering. We’ve gotten pretty close over the years, haven’t we?” Tony tilted his head and raised his eyebrow at Ty. Close? Close what? It’s not like they had ever been friends, even though they had been in the same class since third grade, aside from Ty who was a junior.
Or would be until this day was over and he become be a senior next Fall.
Tony shrugged and tried for an easy smile. He figured it was better to play dumb in this situation, despite feeling vey uncomfortable around these guys.
“Close what, friends? Well yeah, we have known each other since grade school, so I guess that makes sense.” Ty smirked evilly and leaned over him, making Tony very aware of the very clear size difference between them. Not that Tony was short exactly; he was around average for a sixteen year old, standing at 5 foot 7 inches. But Ty was a football player, was almost 6 feet tall and he was more than twice as wide and big as him since Tony, despite all of his attempts at working out and doing of lot of work with machines and engines, had failed to get any visible muscles.
“Well no, I was thinking of something else, actually. I mean, school will be over soon and your friends will be going away for a few weeks, aren’t they?” He leaned in a little closer. “If you want I could help keeping you company if you’d like.”
Tony froze and immediately had to start blinking. Oh he had to go there, didn’t he? It wasn’t enough to spread rumors, to bully and harass him and even beat him up every once in a while and practically ruin any chances of Tony making friends, he had to go for his sex life as well? Hadn’t he kicked in that door enough as it was?
He swallowed, puffed out his chest and looked Ty right in the eyes. “Oh yeah, uh thanks for the offer, but I have plans for the summer too. My parents have planned a trip to Paris and I have to go with them whether I like it or not.”
It was a lie. His parents did have a trip planed for the summer, that much he knew, but it wasn’t to Paris and they hadn’t forced him to come along. In fact, they hadn’t even told him to his face and he had heard it when they were talking to each other in his dad’s office without knowing he was outside listening to them.
Which stung, like it always did when they didn’t want to spend time with him. But Ty and these asshats didn’t need to know that.
Ty smirked at him. “Well, if you’d like me to help you feel better before you leave, you only need to ask.” He leaned in closer to his face, a predatory smirk spreading over whole face. “After all, we all know how much you like it.”
Tony was so close to quaking in his boots. He couldn’t help it; Ty had always had that kind of grip over him. No matter how tough he was or tried to act, he could never really stand up to Ty. Hammer, sure! Killian, probably. But not Ty.
Aldrich shoved his way up to Ty’s side and sneered down at Tony, almost as predatory as Ty did. “Hey, Stone, if you’re gonna have some fun with him, you have to share!” He leaned down to be on eye level with Tony. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, you little whore? You’d just love to have a strong man’s hands all over you, wouldn’t you?”
Hammer also shoved his way up to Ty’s side, trying for a similar smirk like Ty’s and Killian’s, but didn’t quite make it, which ironically helped calm Tony’s nerves. But before he could speak, Ty cut him off, leaning in closer and pressing Tony up against a locker.”
“Don’t think you can fool us, you little bitch! Everyone in this school knows the truth; that you’re nothing but a trashy, dirty little slut who acts like he’s better than every one. But we know that you’re just a poser, and you’re dad’s company is gonna tank the second you take over. If he ever lets you run it, that is.”
Tony was close to tears and caught between a rock and a hard place. He needed to get away, soon, or who knows what he would do. Normally he would yell back and tell Ty exactly where to shove it, but he’d been caught off guard and now didn’t know how he would get away from this, since he was cornered by three guys, two of which were taller and bigger than him, so-
Then he heard someone clearing their throat from behind them, and the guys turned to look, only to see Natasha Romanov stand very close to them leaning on her hip and her hands on her sides, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Are you gonna stand there forever? You’re blocking the entrance.” Her words weren’t much, but her voice was ice cold, daring them to talk back to her or say anything at all that wasn’t ‘No’ or ‘sorry’ before moving out of the way.
Ty and his little lackeys were staring at her, wide eyes and terrified before slowly moving out the way and mutter apologies as she passed them with a cold glare, her green eyes probably drilling into their very souls. And Tony would probably also having terrified of her if he wasn’t so busy slipping away from Ty and run off down the hallway.
She hadn’t done it to defend him, he knew that much. Natasha was never nice to anyone except for brother, and she was just annoyed with them blocking the way into school, that was all. He knew better than to fool himself into believing that there was someone in this school that cared about him, aside from Rhodey and Pepper.
As he made his way down the hallway he felt people stare at him and heard them whisper or laugh as he passed them. He didn’t care what were saying, because it was never anything new. There was nothing they could say about him that he hadn’t already heard from everyone else.
Tony Stark is a rich asshole
Tony Stark is a know-it-all son of a bitch
Tony Stark is an attention whore
Tony Stark pays others to have sex with him
Tony Stark is a grotsky little byotch
Tony Stark is an egocentric narcissist
Tony Stark is a poser and a fake genius
Tony Stark is a fugly slut
Tony Stark is a heartless monster
He’d heard it all, ever since fifth grade the rumors had been running wild and they had gotten more and more hurtful and terrible with every year.
And sure, some of it was based on some kind of weird truth. He did act like an asshole while in school, he acted like he didn’t care about anything and joked about just about everything and he did act like a narcissist, but most of it was dialed up to eleven and people treated him like a bad guy from a movie or something.
And of course there were comments about his looks. And he wasn’t ‘ugly’ exactly; he had good features and a symmetrical face, big brown eyes, a straight nose and excellent bone structure. But he also had big, bulky hipster glasses and he had a bit of a problem with zits. And it wasn’t so much that there were many of them, it was just that they always refused to go away entirely. His hair- while thick and clean enough- was a mess of dark brown untamable curls and he was thin and lanky, which not only made him look smaller than weaker than he actually was, it also made his clothes end up looking awkward on him even if they were in his size, which apparently wasn’t considered attractive by most kids in school.
He just ended up looking a like a stereotypical nerd with expensive, fancy clothes and slightly better looks than most other nerds, most of the time.
People kept saying he looked a lot like his father did when he had been his age, but his dad was way more attractive and was called handsome left and right and Tony was… not.
He had actually been called an ugly duckling for years before they all got older, started high school and everyone started to call him a fugly slut instead. He could only hope that he might turn out to be a swan someday.
And sure, he probably didn’t help any of this with his own attitude and acting like an asshole and like he had ego bigger than the sun and like he thought the universe revolved around him, plus rub his genius in people’s faces, but what was he supposed to do? There was no way he could change what people thought of him anyway and he couldn’t make those rumors go away, so if everyone was going to see him as an asshole and a slut, he might as well act the part. Because who cares? High school is nothing, he’d be gone in a few years, go to MIT and never look back at Shield high ever again, move on to become a great engineer and just put everything behind him.
He groaned as he made his way into the classroom, taking a breath through his nose and closes his eyes as he sat down in his seat.
‘Two years down, two to go.’
Bruce left science class and tried to keep his head down and make himself as small as he could, clutching his books tightly to his chest. So far, so good. He’d managed to get between his first few classes without any real trouble or bumping into any assholes.
Well, Tony was kind of an asshole at times, but in some weird way Bruce found himself laughing at his jokes more often than getting angry at his rudeness or his reckless antics. It was weird, but maybe he was just playing it up. Bruce had heard a whole lot of rumors about Tony Stark, but he didn’t really pay much attention to rumors. And considering the rumors that were floating around about him, he knew that most rumors were just bullshit anyway.
And really, what is a byotch anyway? Like, was it a bitch but different somehow?
They weren’t friends exactly, but they did greet each other every now and then when they passed each other in the hallways. But other than that, Bruce was alone for the most part and usually spent all his time away from classes in the library to hide from bullies or jerks or assholes?
But as he made his way towards his next class, he felt someone yank on his hoodie and pull him backwards. He yelped and almost tripped, dropping his books on the floor, one of then landing on his foot. He looked up at the person who had pulled him back and saw it was Emil Blonsky and Thaddeus Ross, who had been out to get him for years. And Bruce wasn’t entirely sure why if he’d done anything to this guy, but since when did that ever matter to a bully?
Blonsky smirked down at Bruce, towering over him by at least four inches. “Hello Banner. Still wearing that hoodie as the rest of the month?” Ross smirked and elbowed him with a snort.
“I saw him at a thrift store the other day. He came out of there with two bags of hoodies like that.” Bruce didn’t say anything in response. He knew he didn’t have a lot of clothes and wore a lot of the same stuff every day and that he looked really unkempt, with his shaggy hair and slightly big and dirty clothes and the tattered bag he had slung over his shoulder. But living with only one parent, who didn’t make a lot of money, was kinda testing on your bank account.
Still, he clenched his fists tightly to hold back his temper and dug his nails into his palms to keep himself from getting angry. People didn’t really like him when he was angry. Bruce adjusted his hoodie and picked up his books, taking deep breaths to try and control his temper.
It always surprised a lot of people that he had a very fiery temper and could loose it when he was pushed to far, and he’d been working hard at controlling said temper so he wouldn’t completely loose it someone. Not that he could actually take any of these guys in a fight, but he was stronger than he looked, despite being a bit short and not particularly muscle-y.
When he turned to leave when Ross moved ahead of him, blocking the way with his body.
“Going somewhere?” Bruce shrugged and tried to breathe calmly.
“Um, yeah, to class.” Blonsky smirked and shook his head before reaching out his hand towards Bruce, as if he was expecting him to give him something.
“What about our homework?” Bruce raised and eyebrow at him, more confused than angry at this point.
“What homework?” Ross narrowed his eyes at him and turned towards him, while still blocking his way. He was also much taller than him bigger with more muscle mass than him.
“The homework you were gonna do for us, remember?” Homework? It was the last day of school, the grades were already set so what were they talking about? He shook his head and gripped his books tighter.
“It’s the last day of school. What homework would you need to turn in?” Blonsky narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, trying to corner him against a wall.
“Are you talking back to us? Listen Banner, there’s one thing you need to learn here; when we tell you to do something, you damn well do it. You think you’re better than us, because you’re a fucking nerd-“ He was cut off as someone ‘bumped’ into him and he in turn tripped into Ross.
“Oh! Oh my god, I am so, so sorry for that! Gosh, I’m such a klutz, really, I can’t go anywhere without making a mess of things.” Bruce looked up and saw Tony stand there, his face looking shocked and worried but it was very obviously fake, and his voice matched it very well.
But he barely had time to say anything before Ross and Blonsky straightened back up and started to yell at Tony for not looking where he was going and being blind and stupid and ‘did those fucking glasses not make him see what was right in fucking front of him!’ While Tony was standing there ‘apologizing’ to them, he turned to Bruce and motioned with his head at him to get going while the two guys still yelled him. Bruce mouthed a quick, ‘thank you’ to him before quickly running off towards his next class.
Yeah, Tony was okay. Maybe even a bit better than okay.
‘Just keep your head down, Bruce. You’ll be okay, just gotta make it to 4pm and you’ll be okay.’
Steve was sitting alone at his and Bucky’s usual table and sketching while slowly eating his lunch, letting the sounds of the cafeteria fade away around him. Which was not the easiest thing to do, but he’d had years of practice drowning out noise of other kids and classmates.
Bucky had texted him and said he wouldn’t come to school today, which meant Steve was alone to fend off other kids as he tried to survive the last day. Again, not the easiest thing to do, considering he had no other friends to talk to or any other way to pass the time.
And it wasn’t that he didn’t know other kids in school. He kinda knew Sam and Thor from football and he kinda talked with a few kids from art class. But Bucky was the only real friend he had, and now that he was sick that meant he was alone to deal with Schmidt and his gang of bullies and assholes. Not that he had ever been one to back down from a fight if he needed to fight back or felt compelled to help someone else out, but he’d rather get through this last day of school without getting in trouble with the principal. Or worse, his mother. Again.
“Eating alone today, are we Rogers?”
Steve groaned and put his pen down. ‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear.’ He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Johann Schmidt with Brock Rumlow on his right, like some kind of right hand man or something.
“What do you want now, Schmidt? Don’t you have anything better to do than hang over my shoulder all the time?” Schmidt smirked evilly and folded his arms over his chest, his black leather jacket squeaking at the movements.
“Oh, so defensive Steven. I just wanted to see how my old friend is doing, all alone with no friends to eat with.” Steve gritted his teeth and tried to breathe calmly through his nose so he wouldn’t loose his temper. ‘He’s trying to get a rise out of you, Rogers,’ that little voice that sounded an awful lot of Bucky, told him. ‘Don’t let him get to you, it’s just what he wants.’
“I was doing just fine, until you showed up uninvited. Now kindly fuck off.” He turned back to his lunch and sketchbook, when it was suddenly yanked from the table and Rumlow went through the pages with a big smirk on his face.
“Ooh, you drew anything good, Rogers?” Steve flew up from his seat and went to take it back, when Rumlow quickly passed it to Schmidt, who also started to look through it, his smirk widening as he flicked from page to page.
“Hm, very nice Steven. But do people know that you draw them without knowing about it?” Steve flew forward to grab it, but Rumlow grabbed him in a tight grip and held him back from grabbing Schmidt. And Schmidt was just smirking as he turned the sketchbook around to show him a drawing of the cheerleaders at practice.
“My, my Rogers, are you looking at girls and drawing them without consent? I can’t imagine they’d like it. And who’s this?” He flipped the page, a picture of a girl at a table in the library, who was drawn in more detail and with her long hair flowing around her in a bright red. “Is that Romanov? Why Steven, do we have a thing for Russians?”
Steve growled and tried to rip himself free out of Rumlow’s grip. Yes, he had drawn Natasha Romanov while she was studying in the library. No, he did not have a crush on her. Yes, she was pretty and was nice to look at. No, he did not have any lustful or romantic feelings towards her. He drew a lot of people while in school, in as much detail as he could, it didn’t mean anything. Not that Schmidt would listen if he tried to say that, but still.
“Give it back Schmidt, or I swear to God-“ Rumlow laughed and held him tighter.
“You know she would never touch your ass in a million years, right? She has hundreds of guys chasing her and that want to be her boyfriend, and you think you have a shot with her? Keep dreaming Rogers, you’re never gonna get with her.” Steve tried to rip himself out of Rumlow’s grip again and almost succeeded at making him loosen his grip, only for him to tightening it again in a split second.
Schmidt motioned at Rumlow and he made Steve lean forward so he was bent over, and Schmidt gripped his jaw, tightly. “Yes, he is right about that. And you know why that is? Because you can act like you’re above everyone here all you want, and like you’re too good to hang out with anyone here. But you know that you’re on the same level as the freaks and the nerds!” He made Steve turn his head towards a few other tables. The first table he was forced to look at was one with the kids that were seen as strange or unable to get boxed into another click, and he saw Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Loki Odinson and of course Natasha and her adopted brother Clint Barton sit, eating and talking amongst themselves.
And sure, there were rumors about Clint, like how Clint was from a family of circus freaks or how his real dad had killed his little brother when they were kids and Clint had run off to join a circus when he was really young before being put in an orphanage and eventually got adopted when he was seven.
Or how Natasha’s parents had been assassins and trained her to be one before they were killed when she was very young and she had- somehow- made her way to America on her own as an illegal immigrant before also being put in the same orphanage as Clint and they got adopted at the same time. Or how, because she was a Russian, she had filled her locker with weapons, threatened people with violence when they annoyed her and that she was drinking vodka from water bottles during class or lunch.
Steve had no idea if any of those rumors were true, but both Natasha and Clint were very good at gymnastics, and he was scary good at archery and she was an expert at martial arts. So the idea that Clint might have had a past with some kind of circus, and Natasha might have been trained since very young to do these things, since she had this dangerous air about her, which made most people stay away from her while still gawking at her beauty. But Steve had never been one to listen too much to rumors so he didn’t really believe it. Well, not much anyway.
Still, they were very hard to ignore.
Then he was forced to look at a few other tables, and he only recognized a few of the kids. Bruce Banner from science class- who he had defended from bullies once or twice-, Jane Foster who was Thor’s girlfriend (he was sitting there with her too), her best friend Darcy, Reed and Susan and a few others who were classified as ‘nerds’ and were mocked for it.
In the corner of his eye he also saw another, smaller table where Tony Stark was sitting with two other, slightly older kids: a girl with long red hair and freckles and a well built, tall, African American guy. He kinda recognized the guy, as he was on the football team but he had never talked to him. Though he was sure he was a James, just like Bucky.
But he knew who Stark was and though he had never actually talked to him, he had a very strong dislike for the guy. He was loud and obnoxious and inappropriate and a total asshole to everyone, making jokes out of everything and got in everyone’s faces about being a genius and seemed to think the world revolved around him.
And that wasn’t even touching the rumors that surrounded him.
His face was jerked back and he was forced to look back at Schmidt. “The thing is, they are above you for one single fact; they have a click and a group that they belong too. The second Barnes gets sick or just doesn’t come to school; you’re on your own. You could be one of the great sport stars and a really popular kid if you really wanted to, but you choose not to be. And you don’t hang out with the art freaks either, because you think you’re above it all. But you can’t fool me, Rogers. You know you’re nothing without Barnes and you know it too. You can turn your nose up at us all you want, and you can act like you think we’re immature or stupid or whatever, but I know it’s because they don’t want you either. Ever since you both came to this school, everyone has tried to make friends with you but you refuse and now they hate you because you act so stuck up. But this school is for special kids, kids with great potential, but where’s yours? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have any.”
He smirked and leaned in closer, till he was inches away from his face and whispered into his ear. “You don’t belong here, Rogers. You should go back to Brooklyn and stay with your kind of people; poor and mediocre. You’re nothing Rogers.”
And with that, Rumlow finally let him go and Schmidt dropped the sketchbook on the table and they left. Steve stared after them and panted heavily and angrily at their backs as they left and rubbed his aching arms. He wanted to run after them and give them a piece of his mind, but he also really wanted to get through today without causing a fight. He didn’t want to come home to his mother and say he got into another fight, and this time not even for defending anyone from bullies but not just losing his temper when an asshole taunted him.
His mom would grab him by the ear and give him the scolding of a lifetime if she heard he got himself in trouble again, especially at the end of the school year.
He sighed and put his sketchbook and pencils into his backpack and got back to his lunch, eating as fast as he could so he could leave soon.
‘Come on, Rogers. Just a few more hours of school and you’re done. A few more hours and then it’s summer break. Even if you have to go that stupid camp, at least you’ll have a summer with Bucky.’
Natasha sat in a toilet cubicle, waiting it out in the girl’s locker room with a half-full water bottle in her hand. The other girls would be done changing soon and then they would leave and she could get away from their bitching. Not that she couldn’t handle them and their bullshit, she knew she could, but she wasn’t sure if she could hold herself back from hurting them if she was out there with them and she didn’t want to cause any trouble. Not today, not with only a few hours left of school. She and Clint had agreed to not get into any trouble today and had promised Phil that they wouldn’t, and she intended to keep it.
She’d broken enough promises to Phil as it was.
She’d just gotten back from gym class, which she was very, very good at, but she could always feel the other girls glare at her and throw dirty looks at her. And she didn’t really care about what they thought of her, normally, but it did tear at her to constantly know and hear what they were thinking about her, whispering and talking behind her back or try to trip her up or make her feel like trash, as much as she liked to pretend that it didn’t.
And she also knew what would happen if she did fight back and slap one of them across the face, and she couldn’t get kicked out of yet another school for ‘assaulting’ other students. The excuse of PTSD only got her so far and couldn’t be used as an excuse for her whole life. It didn’t even really work anymore as it was. It had been more than ten years now and even school psychiatrists and psychologists told her that it shouldn’t bother her as much as it used to when she was younger. And no matter what Phil said, the school refused to cut her any more slack, so if she hurt any of the girls or even tried to fight back, she knew they would go crying to the principal and tell their own version of what happened. And he would believe them and refuse to even listen to her version and she would get kicked out. Again.
A loud BANG was heard as someone kicked the door to the cubicle she was sitting in, making her jump, jolt out of her thoughts and almost drop her water bottle. She had put her feet up, so in case anyone walked in they wouldn’t see her, but of course they would anyway, considering it was the only that was locked.
“Still hiding in the bathroom, Romanov? Or maybe you’re drinking that whole bottle of vodka you brought to school, huh?” That was Sharon. Because of course it was Sharon, she’d hated her guts since Coach Fury had told her she could be an amazing cheerleader if she wanted to be, probably the best on the team. Natasha, of course, had no interest of becoming a cheerleader, but Sharon still acted like she had been wronged and did everything she could to make Natasha’s life miserable. Especially since she realized that Natasha couldn’t fight back, no matter how much she wanted to.
Also, it didn’t help that the girls kept throwing Russian stereotypes at her, despite not having lived in Russia since she was five years old.
“I know you’re in there, Romanov, I can smell your trashiness from here, you little slut! Your freak brother can’t always protect you, you piece of shit!”
Oh yeah, because she totally needed Clint to survive the day like some kind of bodyguard. Sure, they looked out for each other, always had and always would. But more often than not, she was the one who got him out of trouble. At least she never mouthed off to people or got violent. At least not too badly.
She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the cubicle, taking a long sip from her water bottle, while also registering the sound of water running.. “Which is it, Sharon? Am I a slut, or a shit? Make up your mind.” She made it a point to keep her voice low and calm, but still loud enough to be heard.
“You’re trash!” Sharon yelled and Natasha heard the water get turned off and then she heard the scraping of a plastic bag being dragged across the floor. She knew what was coming, because it always did. She reached for backpack, pulled out her umbrella and opened it just in time for a big pile of trash and water hit her from above, the smell of garbage, old food and used tampons and sanitary pads attacking her nostrils along with dirty sink water.
“At least now you’ll smell better.” She heard laughing from other girls, other mindless little cheerleaders that followed Sharon everywhere like lambs, before they left the room and slammed the door behind them.
She sighed, got off the toilet and carefully got out of the cubicle and shook off the trash and water from her umbrella before drying it off and putting it back in her bag. The fact that the ‘throw-water-and-trash-at-Natasha’ thing had happened so many times over the past year that she had needed to start bringing her umbrella to school every day was getting really, really pathetic. But it was better than being covered in trash and used tampons for a whole day.
After taking a quick shower and changing her back into her regular clothes, she got out of the locker room and started towards her next class. And along the way, it was always the same. Guys stared at her like she was either a goddess or a monster of some sort and girls ran away from her or glared at her, spelling out their hatred or fear for her very clearly.
It had been like that since she had first hit puberty and started to become less of a girl and more of a woman, as she got big tits and a curvy enough body to attract all of the attention from every guy in school, and the girls hated her for that. And guys were terrified because they thought she was bringing weapons and guns to school (because Russian) and would jump at the chance to kill any American she could.
Not that they ever said anything to her face, even Sharon and her posse always made sure to have a door or a wall between them or that they were standing with enough distance between them so she couldn’t do anything about it other than ‘overhear it’. But she knew, she always knew. Clint could make all the Mean Girls jokes he wanted about her hair being big and full of secrets, but the truth was that she was good at figuring things out about people. She had good eyes and ears and so she learned all lot of things about people that they more than likely wouldn’t like to have revealed.
Like how Sharon, for all her slut shaming and calling her a whore or whatever, was the first girl in their class who’d had sex. With a college kid, of all things.
Or how Johann Schmidt ran a small club in school he claimed to be about history, but was really about benefits and greatness of National Socialism and Nazism, which the school didn’t know about and if they did would probably get him kicked out in seconds.
Or how Tony Stark, the only kid who was more slut-shamed than her, was a virgin, just like her. Poor guy was probably the most hated guy in school for no good reason other than he was born in a rich and powerful family.
She never said anything about these things, because if she ever did plan of revealing these things she wanted to make it hurt. She’d like to have all her cards sorted out and make sure the people would suffer as she revealed it. Or it was just nice to know these things without them knowing about it. It made it a little more bearable, she supposed.
She reached her classroom and sighed softly to herself as she made her way to her seat. ‘More than half the day is over now, Romanov. Just a few more classes and it’s over, then you’re free.’
Thor had never been to America before moving here from Norway with his father, mother and brother, due to his father needing to work in America for a few years. And so far he couldn’t say he was too impressed by its residents.
Now, he had made some acquaintances with a few other young students, such as Bruce Banner, and had even managed to obtain a lovely girlfriend in Jane Foster and made friends with her friends. But the negative attitude that was simmering in this city was almost enough to choke him at times. And while Loki had been fortunate enough to find a click that more or less suited him- a strange little group of mixed individuals- Thor had a bit more of a tough time finding a good place among his peers, before finally joined the football team. But he still could not help but feel that- as nice as some of the people were at this school- they were laughing at him behind his back or made jokes at his expense.
And it was true that he spoke a bit differently from the other students, both with his accent and also his vocabulary as he was still struggling with the language in this fair city of New York. He had enough self-awareness to know that he could sound a little strange at times compared to the other students, but he still did not understand why they felt the need to laugh at him solely for this. Ever since he had started at this school he had heard so many jests at his expense, all from Viking jokes to mocking his way of speaking and name-calling.
As the bell signaling the end of class chimed, Thor collected his math books before hurrying out of the classroom so he might have a chance to speak with his lovely Jane before next class. They did not share many classes and he very much wanted to speak with her as much as he could.
He did find her by their lockers, but she was not alone. Another young man was standing very close to her and talking in a manner that Thor could only assume was flirting, and he would have been enraged at this had he not seen the held back anger and annoyance on his lovely Jane’s face.
“Aw, come on Foster, can’t you just come out with me tonight? It’s summer, we could celebrate that school’s finally out, together.” Jane rolled her eyes at before smacking his arm when he tried to put it around her, glaring daggers at him. Thor would not like to be on the receiving end of that particular look.
“I told you, Pierce, I’m not interested. One, I have a boyfriend, so no. Two, even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last guy on planet Earth. So kindly get lost before I tell Darcy to whip out her taser. Again.”
Pierce did move back a little, but he was still far too close for Thor’s liking. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the lockers, looking rather annoyed now. “Seriously Foster, what do you see in that guy? He’s a total freak, I mean have you heard how he talks?” Jane smacked him again, this time in the face and threatened him with a fist.
“I’m serious, Pierce, get lost or you get the taser!” Thor decided that he needed to interfere and moved up to his girlfriend’s side, putting his arm around her.
“Does this man bother you, Jane? Shall I take care off him and vanquish him to another room?” Before Jane could respond, Pierce groaned and rolled his eyes at him.
“Ugh, seriously what is your malfunction, are you retarded or something? I get it, you’re Norwegian and the language is too tough for you, but real humans don’t talk like that! You live in America now, speak like an American!” Jane’s face turned red with anger and started to stomp up to him, but Thor grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I do not understand this statement. How does one speak ‘American?’ I was under the belief that you speak English here in this fairy country, but perhaps I was wrong?” Jane snorted and covered her mouth so she wouldn’t burst into laughter, and Thor preened a little at having made his lovely girlfriend laugh.
Pierce wasn’t smiling however, not even a little. He just glared at him, stalked up him and, despite being at least a foot shorter and much smaller in size and muscle, tried to get up in Thor’s face. “Ugh, seriously, you are such a freak, Odinson! Your brother speaks better English than you and he’s a Goth freak! This is not an old story about knights and Ye Olde English, so stop talking like that! Or are your kind really so stupid that you can’t talk like real humans from this century?”
Thor immediately felt the anger brew up and he grabbed the young man by his collar and pressed him up against a locker. “You dare insult the house of Odin? And you dare speak of my brother and people in such vulgar fashion?! I demand you apologize this instant, or I will make you the price!”
Jane started to pull on his arm and yell at him to release this young man called Pierce. “Thor, come on, stop it! He’s not worth it, you’ll get in trouble!” Thor looked at her, then back at Pierce and then saw that a crowd of people had formed around them. And he had the strangest feeling that they didn’t exactly form to see justice being served. So he dropped Pierce, who coughed and clutched at his throat before glaring up at him.
“God, you are a freak! Go back to the woods and fjords, you fucking Viking freak!” Then he turned tail and hurried away. And as Thor looked after him he started to hear the words Viking freak being whispered around him and other students were either laughing at him or glaring angrily at him.
Jane gently took him by the arm and led him away from the crowd and towards the classroom of his next class, but the damage had already been done. Thor knew that he’d had a hard time understanding the students around him, but now he knew it would be impossible to get on their level, as he was now being dubbed Viking freak by his peers.
He looked down at his wristwatch. ‘School is almost over now. One final class and it’s over.’
Clint grinned as the bell finally rang and declared the class, and whole day, was finally over. He hurried up from his chair, almost ran into Steve Rogers as he was on his way out, quickly apologized and kept hurrying. The Corridors were now full of other kids that were hurrying to gather their things from their lockers before getting out of the building.
Natasha would probably already be waiting by his locker when he got there. She always managed to beat him in most things, despite his best efforts to try and beat her in something. Sure, he had better aim than her and always beat her in games or tasks that required good aim, but that was mostly it. Still, she was his sister in everything but blood and so it was her job to drive him crazy and yet somehow he would love her at the end of the day.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt if he for once could just-
He suddenly fell forward and hit the ground and only realized once he was lying on the floor that someone had tripped him. He heard laughs from somewhere behind him and he quickly got up on his knees so he could see who it was.
And of course it was Brock Rumlow, because who else would it be? That guy was out to get him, Clint swore up and down that he was. And now he was laughing along with a few buddies, as Clint was still half-lying on the floor.
“Oops, sorry Cunt, I didn’t you there. Are you okay?” His voice was very obviously mocking him and his friends laughed even harder. Clint narrowed his eyes at the nickname and the mocking before getting back up on his feet, glaring at Rumlow.
“Oh yeah, haha, very funny Rumlow! You’re such a fucking riot I might piss myself laughing so hard!” Rumlow just laughed some more before walking up to Clint, smirking and folded his arms over his chest.
“Oh, what’s the matter Cunt? Did you scrape your knee? Do you need mommy to kiss it an make it better?” He spoke in a patronizing, baby voice and did a little pout, just because he could. Clint gritted his teeth and tried to take deep breath so he wouldn’t do something stupid. School was over, he was free from this guy for the next ten weeks. Why did he waste time on this guy and stay around here like a moron.
He lifted his chin defiantly and gritted out while looking him right in the eyes, “My name is Clint.” Before turning on his heel made turned to leave, when Rumlow called after him.
“Oh I know, but that name’s hardly better. Would you prefer Circus Freak, you little bastard?” Clint froze up and turned to look at him, indignation quickly turning into anger. He clenched his fists and turned to look at him, holding himself back from storm up to the guy.
“You got something you wanna say Rumlow or are just gonna stand there hog time from my summer break? ‘Cause I got stuff to do, places to be and none of them are you.” He smirked mockingly and made lewd hand gesture. “Unless you’re into that stuff, ‘cause I’d love to see how much you like me shoving my arrow right up your ass.”
To his small delight there were a few laughs around him and Rumlow turned bright red, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of humiliation or anger. Maybe both? Then he grinned again and put his hands on his hips.
“Well, I guess that’s how you did things in your house, did you? Did your daddy shove his arrow up your ass or did they teach you that at the circus?” Clint’s smirk turned into grimace and he took another deep breath.
“Nah, it’s just something I like to do to guys I don’t like. I like to hear their screams of pain and agony then my arrow penetrates their target.” Rumlow didn’t blush this time but there were some people that laughed around him. He just smirked wider.
“Yeah, you probably like that, cuz you know no one will ever love you. Just like your parents didn’t love you or your brother. Your dad probably loved you about as much loved the smell his own shit and would’ve loved to kill you too if you didn’t run away.”
Okay, now he was really pushing it and it was becoming harder to come up with jokes to play off his insults with. He took another breath and cupped his hand behind his ear, like one might do when they wanted to hear better.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that, my hearing aids don’t pick up idiocy very well.” There were fewer snickers this time, but he didn’t really care about that, he just wanted to stick it to this asshole. Rumlow snorted and walked up closer to him.
“Well then, let me talk a little clearer, maybe they’ll pick this up: you are a fucking freak that even the circus didn’t want, so what makes you think we want you here? You and your freaky sister were put in the system as orphan kids, and why do think that is? Because your parents didn’t love you, they probably didn’t even like you! So why don’t you crawl back to the circus or whatever, find some place that actually want you there, if you actually find something.” Clint’s fingers itched and he wanted so badly to punch him in the face, and he almost did, when another voice cut through the crowd.
“Oh, so here’s the kindergarten, huh?” Everybody turned to look as Natasha came walking through the corridor, the crowd parting for her like Moses parted the Red Sea. She had her eyes locked on Rumlow and marched up to him, getting right up in his face. “Well, aren’t you going to pick on me now?”
Clint always loved watching Natasha do these things, ‘cause it looked so funny. Like, Natasha wasn’t that tall or muscular, maybe 5 foot 7 inches and 130 pounds, and Rumlow both taller and heavier than her. And yet he looked at her and looked absolutely terrified.
“U-uh…” He swallowed and backed away a little, but Natasha just followed him and stayed very close to him. “N-no, I… I was just…” She narrowed her eyes at and him stared him down.
“Don’t ever do that again!” She snapped and raised her hand threateningly. “Or you’ll be very sorry.” Rumlow was quiet, but nodded and he turned tail and almost ran the other way with his friends right behind him.
Natasha turned to him, her face softening slightly and she looked him over, before grabbing the backpack he had dropped on the floor when he fell. “Sometimes I think you like pissing off these guys until they pound you into the ground. What if one day I’m not here to save your ass?” Clint rolled his eyes and dusted off his jeans and t-shirt.
“I’m fine Natasha, he barely even touched me. And you didn’t have intervene like that, I was fine.” She rolled her eyes and handed him the bag.
“Yeah, he looked like was just getting ready to back off and run.” She took his arm and started to lead him towards the exit. “Now come on, Phil had something he wanted to talk about when we got back home.” Clint nodded and finally sighed in relief as they left the school.
‘Finally. School’s over and it’s summer! Freedom and sun and relaxing, here I come!’