week two
Friday rolled around quicker than Steve would’ve wanted, and now he’s seated at the far back corner of the classroom, struggling with Spanish yet again. He looks at the exercise in front of him, trying to remind himself the right verb to use. He’s spent half of Saturday studying, he even downloaded an app and watched every possible youtube video on the subject. He kept revising during the week and he’s sure he knows the answer, he just can’t seem to think of it. He sighs, resigned, then reaches out for his notebook. He doesn’t have a chance to look at it though, as Ms. Santiago starts asking students for their answers. Steve checks along, and is pleased to see that what he wrote is right. When the reach the example he’s not sure of, the teacher asks him, and he groans quietly, because of fucking course.
“Is it, umm… Ella es delgada y alta, tiene el pello rubio y está guapa?” He phrases it like a question, not sure of his answer.
Ms. Santiago looks at him intently for a second. “Not quite,” she then shifts her gaze towards the other side of the room. “James?”
“Es guapa,” he says, not even looking at his notes. Instead, he looks at Steve, but averts his eyes quickly. The teacher nods, then moves over to the other examples.
Steve blood boils. This guy again. He huffs, not even looking at the table on his left. Would it kill James, Bucky, would it kill Bucky to not know the answer only once? Is it really that much? Steve spent so much time on this, and the guy acting like it’s the simplest thing only pisses him off. He hears Nat say something quietly in Russian, then James, Bucky, replying something along the lines of ‘shut up.’ Steve rolls his eyes, focusing on the handout in front of him. He’ll learn that, and he’ll show the guy that he and his nerdy ass can go to hell as far as he’s concerned.
It’s not that Steve minds the fact that James is a nerd. He couldn’t care less. It’s just that he doesn’t have to be so obnoxious. Sure, Steve’d probably be proud of himself if he spoke as many languages as the guy does, but it doesn’t mean that he has to be so… full of himself. If the roles were reversed, and it was Steve who’d be better than him, he wouldn’t rub it in the guy’s face. He’d probably try to help him, sure, but not like that. Not making him look like an idiot in front of the entire class.
Steve sighs, deciding to focus on the material, not the brunette. He listens to the teacher and makes notes, finding everything she says useful. At the end of the class, his wrist is killing him from writing furiously, but he knows it’s worth it. He’ll spend the weekend studying, and show James next week that he can nail Spanish too.
When Ms. Santiago says they’re free to go, Steve takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He’s tired, and his head hurts. He’s glad he doesn’t work today, so he can go home straight from the university. He puts his glasses back on, then packs his books. He shrugs on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair.
“вот Ваш шанс” Steve hears behind himself, and turns around, his brows furrowed. He’s only now realizing that everyone’s already left the class, leaving only him, James, and Natasha. It must’ve been the girl that’s spoken, because the guy is looking at her, surprised. Then, he quickly looks at Steve, his cheeks slightly painted pink. Natasha nudges his shoulder and he flips her off, shaking his head. Steve cocks his eyebrow, but figures it has nothing to do with him, so he shrugs.
“See you next week, Steve,” James says and steps around him, then quickly leaves the room.
Natasha chuckles quietly, sending Steve a smile, and goes after her friend. “трус!” Steve hears her shout, but he pays no mind to it, leaving the room after them.
*
Steve’s sitting in a local coffee shop near his home. It’s Sunday, and he figured he’d spent enough time studying, so he decided to join his friends for their weekly gossip meeting. They, of course, don’t think of it like that, but he knows them to well to not be fooled. They meet here every week, the place being far enough from university to not see any friendly faces. They usually spend a couple of hours there, everyone catching up. They like to think that it’s not about exchanging the hottest gossips, but Steve knows better. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his friends, he just doesn’t care that much about the lives of people from their uni. Steve, Sam, Peggy and Sharon are all on different studies, so they’ve got a lot to talk about. Steve’s in art, Sam’s in psychology, Peggy’s in history and Sharon’s in social studies, so their social circles are, well, huge. He’s the only one that doesn’t seem to know the people they’re all talking about though. Sure, if he saw them, he’d probably recognize them, but he’s not on a namely basis with these people. Don’t get him wrong - he doesn't think better of himself. It’s the opposite, really. He knows people on the campus only see him as one of the many hipster artists. He doesn’t mind though, he’s used to people not paying attention to him. He honestly prefers that, after years of being bullied in both primary and middle school. It changed in high school, once he met Sam and Sharon, all of them in one class. Then in the middle of freshmen, Peggy joined them, being an exchange student. She’s Sharon’s cousin, so obviously they befriended her quickly. Since then, the four of them have been inseparable. Sure, they’re majoring in different fields, but they’re still close and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Earth to Steve!” His head snaps up from the sketchbook he’s been drawing in. He blinks a few times, looking at Peggy.
“Sorry. You were sayin’?” He sends her an apologetic smile, and she shakes her head smiling fondly.
“I was saying, that we missed you last night!” They all nod their heads and he sighs.
Right. Last night was Halloween, so everyone who was anyone went to the frat party on the campus. His friends were nagging him to go, but Steve didn’t bend. Parties were always too loud for him, what with the electronic music playing loudly from the speakers and what not. Besides, his ideal Saturday night never consisted of drunken people groping each other on the dancefloor, the smell of alcohol and sweat disgustingly in the air. He’s happy to be at home, painting or helping his Ma.
“Oh, umm… I had a lot of things to catch up on,” which is only partially true. He did have work to do, but he was also simply not invited.
“You’re working too hard, man,” Sam says, nudging his shoulder. “Live a little.”
“I’m living just fine, thanks,” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
He knows his friends mean well, but he’s also not stupid. He sees the looks everyone on campus keeps sending his way, whenever he’s with Sam, Peggy or Sharon. They’re all just… way out of his league. Sam’s tall, muscular, and so painfully handsome Steve might have drawn him once or twice. He’s funny, always happy, spreading a positive energy wherever he is. The same goes for Sharon and Peggy. Sharon’s tall and lean, her long, blonde hair making her blue eyes look even brighter than they are. She’s always happy to help and she’s one of the nicest and honest people he knows. And Peggy… Well, Steve’a at loss of words whenever he has to describe her. She’s not as tall as Sharon, but she’s always wearing high heels and pencil dresses that highlight her curves, and pairs them with button ups, that make her look taller. Her black, soft curls fall to her shoulders in perfect waves, never a hair out of place. Her skin looks like porcelain, and contrasts with her dark, long eyelashes and lips covered in red lipstick. And then her cheekbones, God, Steve could draw her for hours with no end. She’s witty and smart, and she’s quick to call people on their bullshit. Whenever someone tries to undermine her for her British accent, she puts them right in place. She’s strong, and she knows her worth, which makes her beautiful not only on the outside, but mostly on the inside. Steve was mesmerized when he first met her, making a fool of himself. She was quick to warm up to him though, and he’s grateful for having her as a friend.
“Steve!” This time it’s Sharon who pulls him out of his head. He just shrugs, because what can he say? They know him by now, know that he often gets lost in his thoughts. “We were telling you what you missed yesterday, at least listen to that,” she laughs, shaking her head. Steve closes his sketchbook and puts it to his bag, then leans against the table.
“I’m all ears,” he wiggles his eyebrows, curling his fingers around the coffee cup.
“Finally!” Peggy exclaims jokingly, then motions for Sharon to start.
“Everyone was there. And I mean, everyone,” she stresses the last word, leaning back on her chair. “All the people we always tell you about from our departments. It was huge, Steve. They were all dressed up though, and it was so hilarious, you have no idea.” She giggles at the memory.
“You’d lose your shit, man. All the characters from Star Wars, Fantastic Four, Matrix, even the ones from Scott Pilgrim. One guy even dressed as Napoleon Dynamite, I swear,” Sam puts his hand on his heart, laughing. Steve laughs along with him, imagining it all. “One guy dressed as a fucking Robin Hood, man, that shit was hilarious. He was walking around with a bow on his back!” he shakes his head.
“Oh yeah, he was with that girl dressed all in black leather. Damn, she looked good,” Sharon bites down on her lower lip, her eyes suddenly dreamy.
“Wasn’t that scissor-hands guy with them?” Peggy asks, looking at her cousin. She pays her no mind though, still in her head.
Sam chuckles looking at the blonde. “Snap out of it, Sharon! You had your chance and did nothing,” he sticks his tongue out, at the girl’s offended expression. “And yeah, that guy was with them. You know them, Steve,” Sam suddenly turns to him.
“I, what?” Steve lifts his eyebrow, not knowing who they’re talking about.
“Yeah!” Peggy joins in, excited.
“You gotta tell me her name, Steve, I’ve never seen her before!” Sharon pleads, her attention back to the table.
“ I’ve got no idea who they’re talking about, Shar, calm down,” he laughs.
“Yeah, you do, you have classes with them!” Peggy frowns at him.
“With who?!” He looks at her exasperatedly.
“Bucky, you idiot,” she huffs.
“What he’s got to do with the girl in leather?” Steve still doesn’t follow.
“She’s the redhead!” Peggy rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing. “I’ve seen her a couple of times with him in our building, but I don’t think she’s in history. You though, you’ve said you have Spanish together.”
“Oh…” it finally clicks, and Steve leans back on his chair. The girl in leather must’ve been Natasha, Bucky being the scissor-hands, and Clint the arrow guy.
“So you know her?” Sharon perks up, which makes Sam chuckle.
“I’ve got one class with her, wouldn’t say I know her,” he states matter of factly.
“Steve!” The blonde pleads, resting her hands on the table.
“All I know is that her name’s Natasha, and she’s an exchange student from Russia. I dunno what she’s studyin’,” he shrugs, wishing he could say more.
“Natasha…” Sharon breathes, looking deep in thought. Then, a slight blush appears on her face. “It suits her.”
Peggy shakes her head fondly at that, putting an arm around her cousin and squeezing gently.
“Well, can you find out more?” Sam turns to him, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“More what?” Steve frowns, missing the point again.
“About her, Jesus!” Sam shakes his head, disbelieving.
“What do you want me to do? Come up to her and asks if she swings that way?” Steve looks at his friends, feeling out of his depth.
“No!” Sharon exclaims loudly, then quickly looks around, embarrassed. “You’ve gotta be subtle Steve, go to that Bucky guy,” she says quieter.
“What?! No!” Now he’s way too loud for his liking. He looks down, clearing his throat.
“Why not?” Peggy looks at him attentively, cocking an eyebrow. “You like him?”
“‘Course not!” Steve huffs, jutting his jaw defensively. Quite the opposite, really.
“Relax Steve, you know what I mean,” she puts her hand on his and squeezes gently. “I know you don’t like anyone that way,” she says reassuringly.
Steve sends her a small smile, still a little put off. His friends know he’s asexual, and they’ve never got a problem with this. They support him, and want him to find someone he’ll fall in love with. Still, it’s not easy, as almost everyone he’s ever tried to date expected him to like them sexually. It’s not his fault that he just doesn’t see people that way. He’s not sex repulsed, but it’s just not appealing to him. Besides, he’s always seen sex as something intimate, private, and well, not many people agree with him. So, he’s decided to put his love life on hold, no longer looking for the right person. He figured he’ll find one when the time comes.
“So, you’re gonna tell us why not or…?” Sam gently nudges his shoulder.
“Oh, uhh… We’re not really… He’s um…” Steve sighs, then looks down again. “I hate that guy,” he mumbles, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
“Care to elaborate?” Sharon asks, obviously curious.
“He’s just so… Ugh!” He groans.
“Okay?” Sam laughs, shaking his head, amused.
“Look, I’m not sayin’ he’s not smart, because he obviously is, but he’s just so full of himself, y’know?” He looks at them, aggravated. “Spanish is his fifth language and he can’t stop bragging about it!” He throws his hands up exaggeratedly.
“Bragging how?” Peggy lifts her eyebrow, refraining from making any quick comments.
“He always has all the answers right, and he keeps correctin’ me and Ms. Santiago always asks him when I dunno the answer and it’s just so... “ He drifts off, seeing his friends eyeing each other.
“It doesn’t really sound like he’s bragging, man,” Sam says carefully.
“Oh, he totally is!” Steve looks at him, puzzled. “He keeps rubbing his knowledge straight in my face!” He huffs, than leans back.
“Steve…” Peggy starts, but he interrupts her.
“Fine, don’t believe me,” he crosses his arms and refuses to look up. He knows damn well he’s acting like a child, but he’s just tired of this guy and he wishes his friends would take his side on this. “Can we change the subject now? Tell me about the party,” he says quickly. His friends are still silent for a while, exchanging looks he’s not aware of. Then they all nod to themselves, and go back to talking about the Halloween party, carefully omitting the subject of Bucky.
*
Steve lets out a deep breath, looking out the library window. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he’s just finished his classes. It’s raining outside, the weather changing dramatically at the beginning of November. He had to abandon his favorite denim jacket and switch to his navy blue, autumn coat and a thick, orange scarf. It only makes his friends call him a hipster more often, but he couldn’t care less. So what, if he likes wearing flannel shirts and beanies, they’re warm. The fact that he also loves indie music, old movies and pumpkin spice latte is just coincidental. Besides, they can call him whatever they want - he’s glad to have them in the first place. Growing up, he didn’t have many friends. He was always the sick kid, that missed a lot of classes, loved art and wore thick glasses. He doesn’t get sick as much now, but he’s still 5’4, 100 pounds soaking wet, thick glasses being a constant. His allergies aren’t such a pain in the ass as they were, but he’s still lactose intolerant and his asthma hasn’t changed one bit. Sure, he doesn’t have scoliosis anymore, but he doesn’t count it as such a victory after all the pain he’s been through. He’s still socially awkward, and prefers the quiet of his room to big, public spaces. The only exceptions are the museums and art galleries, where he spends hours, looking at or sketching the paintings and sculptures.
Which reminds him, why he’s at the library at the first place. He needs to write a research paper for his history classes, and he decided to start early in order to really dig into his subject. He goes to the right shelf and chooses the books he’ll need, then takes them to the table at the back of the room. He sits with his back to the rest of the room, facing the window. The steady rhythm of the rain calms him, and helps him focus. He pulls out his notebook and focuses on the text in front of him.
The sound of a chair screeching on the other side of the table makes Steve jump. He curses quietly, looking up, and sees James, standing there with a sheepish smile on his face, because of fucking course it’s him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” the guy whispers, then sits down, and lays out his books. Steve forces out a smile, that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, then looks back at his books. “Whatcha studying?”
“History,” he replies, letting out a breath.
“I see that, but… Nevermind,” James mumbles resigned, seeing Steve’s cocked eyebrow.
The blonde bites his lower lip. He doesn’t want to be rude, he just… Hates the guy.
“Sorry. It’s um… ancient Greece, sculptures and all that,” Steve says quietly.
“Oh, uh…” James sends him a small, shy smile. “That’s interesting.”
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, shrugging, then goes back to his reading.
“I like your tattoo,” the guy mumbles sheepishly, indicating Steve’s left forearm with his pen. Steve looks down at the simple sketched daisy curling around the words ‘you’re made of marble.’ A soft smile appears on his face, as he absentmindedly traces the words with his right index finger.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, looking up. The guy smiles back, then looks down, suddenly interested in his books. His soft curls fall onto his face and he sighs, then takes a band off his right wrist and pulls his hair into a messy bun at the back of his head. A couple of strings fall out, and frame his face. Steve’s fingers itch to draw him. The brunette looks like one of the sculpture he’s studying, wearing a tight, grey henley that does little to hide the hard lines of his muscles, his skin slightly pale. His eyelashes cast a barely there shadow on his cheekbones, and there’s a smile playing on his lips.
Instead of drawing him, like Steve wants to, he turns his attention back to his books. He remembers he should ask the guy about Natasha, but he quickly decides against it. He still has a couple of chapters to read, and a hell of a lot notes to make. He zones out, studying the perfect shapes and hard lines of the sculptures.