SOCIAL STANDINGS:
Steve:
Shy, Jock/man candy, secret bisexual, has everyone fooled. All the girls have crushes on him. Always with Bucky and (Y/N). The whole school thinks you two are dating or something.
Tony:
Usually, the first one to raise his hand. Not so popular but has his own friends, like Bruce. Hits on a lot of girls, they usually reject him. Sexy and smooth but no one cares. Usually bullies pick fights with him because he's small.
Bucky:
Always by Steve's side. The secretive one, who's pretty much an athlete in the gym. Gets an A in the multilingual classes, and is not someone to mess with. The halls clear up when he walks through, we all know he secretly likes it though.
(Y/N):
Girls are mostly jealous of her because she hangs out with hot guys that are secretly nerds who like comic books and superheroes. Has her two best companions, teachers love her. A lot of guys are jealous of Steve and Bucky because she's a real hottie and doesn't know it.
You walked down the crowded halls, gym bag one hand and sneakers in the other. This semester you had PE, which was fun because you had Bucky and Steve in that class too.
Your ponytail swished from side to side as you rushed to the gymnasium. There was a five-minute rule, which sucked because everyone bumped into each other.
The bell rang as soon as your hand gripped the thick handle, pulling you sighed. "Thank god." You mumble under your breath, making it towards the almost empty girl's locker room.
You walk in slowly, a few pairs of eyes landing on you. It was a normal thing for you now, being starred at. You just decided to be the bigger person and ignore them.
You place your stuff in a locker, taking out your track shorts and top. Quickly, trying to avoid looks and eye contact with anyone, you change. Tying the ropes on the waistband, you take a look around; empty.
"Crap."
You say to yourself, crouching down and tying your laces, swiping a coat of deodorant on your underarms. You rush out, the teacher was taking presences.
"(Y/L/N)?" Your pervert teacher called out, searching for you.
You pop in between both of your huge friends and smile. "Present." He eyed your attire, nodding and checking off your name of the checkboard. "You were late...I'll let it slip just this once." He said, winking, flashing his bleached pearly whites.
"He's said that thirteen times this semester," Bucky whispered loud enough for you and Steve to hear. You stifle a laugh, Steve trying to keep his composure as the coach blabbed about his muscles looking slightly smaller.
"I expect only the best from you, Rogers." He snarled, you could feel the fumes radiating from Bucky on your left. "Yes, sir." Steve politely answered, averting his eyes somewhere else.
The black-haired forty-year-old moved on. "Prick." You mumbled, making Steve laugh a little.
"Alright class, we're playing volleyball!" He shouted, the whistle dangling from his chest. The class groaned faint whispering could be heard.
