First chapter of my new story... Yes, I'm busy with another one too. I got writer's block so I distracted myself. Yes, I lied about the last story being the last with an OC. I like making up people. No, I will not forget about either stories. If I take long to update I've either been busy or blocked. So... enjoy?
PS, translations are at the end.
There was a rhythmical thumping as Andrea's fists and palms landed on the sandbag in quick succession. Her breath was heavy and there was sweat running down her forehead and back. She was tired, and not just because of the exercise. Her tape wrapped fists clenched harder as her muscles started to cramp and shut down but she kept going, just gritting her teeth. There were some things you just have to do. No matter how tired you are, you need to keep going.
"Ey, Ramirez! It's five twenty, you're gonna be late!"
Andrea's head snapped up to the office at the side of the gym, where the owner mr. Carpaccio was leaning out of the door. She looked over to the clock hanging on the wall, struggling to catch her breath, before swearing.
"Mierda." She turned on her heel, half running amongst the other people working out and diving into the changing room. In a hurry she unwound the tape from around her hands and stuffed it in a duffle bag before taking off her drenched clothing. While taking a large chug from a water bottle she wiped herself down with a towel and got dressed.
Her clothes were nothing special; worn old sneakers, which had at some point been white, presumably before they were donated, covered her feet, her shirt was thin after having been washed too often so she had to wear a tank top underneath and her jeans had holes on the knees that weren't originally a planned distressed look. Whatever, she worked with what she got.
On her way out she waved to mr. Carpaccio, who dutifully reminded her that she had to pay her monthly membership fee upfront on the first, which was tomorrow.
"Don't forget, ragazza, fifty!" He called out to her and she smiled and waved over her shoulder as she ran out. Maybe the price was a bit high, that was because she got year-round day-round access to everything, even after hours.
It was five blocks to Jeff's shop, and she got there just in time. If she were late, he'd just have handed off her job to someone else. A deal's a deal, but tardiness ain't gonna help her. There's enough people lining up for jobs, even if they're under the table and offer no safety for the future.
"Ey, señor Myles. I'm here." She called, knocking on Jeff's door and waiting for him to answer.
It wasn't long before it swung open, revealing a balding, sweaty, middle-aged man with grease smeared on his overalls. He dropped a cigarette butt from between his lips and smiled at her.
"Mini-Ramirez! Looking like your mother, you are." He ruffled her hair. "Good thing you got here in time, that punk-" He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder to a boy of around her same age sitting by his desk. "almost got your gig! But don't worry, as long as you're on time you got your weekly hours all lined up."
"Gracias, Jeff." She dropped the bag just inside his door. "'Till nine thirty, right?"
"Yeh, get to work." He waved her off and turned around.
Just before the door closed she could hear him telling the boy to scram, but she paid it no mind. She supposed it'd be hard to find work if you don't have the right connections. Good thing many people still remembered her parents... and felt bad for her. Pity's good for some things, she supposed. As much as it might sting sometimes she wasn't above accepting it.
With her arms still aching, she went to one of the closets and grabbed the cleaning supplies. Anti-grease and polishing waxes and sprays and a lot of brushes and rags were piled into a plastic bucket and a mop was placed in another. It wasn't all that much work. It was simple, really. Start from the back of the shop, that empties out first. Clean all the tools and start putting them away at the mechanics' stations. Wipe down the cars that are closed up, the one's that aren't being worked on. Brush the floor for larger rubbish and then mop it down. Station by station, minute by minute.
Andrea swallowed down the hunger she felt and wiped away the sweat from her face, trying to stop it from getting in her eyes. That shit stung.
At eight the shop closed and she started cleaning the last of the stations while mr. Myles finished up the books. Then she cleaned his office and by nine thirty she was done. Four hours, and since she was the daughter of an old friend he paid her ten bucks an hour. The man handed the two twenty dollar bills over and waited as she put them away in her wallet and slipped on a hoodie. Jeff led her out of the shop and closed up, waving goodbye to her as he lit another cigarette.
The girl was left alone on the darkened street in the South Bronx, and not the nice part. Paying no mind to the clear dangers of her situation, she hefted the duffle bag higher over her shoulder and started walking. The air was getting chillier and the left over sweat on her skin was starting to cool her off a bit too much for her tastes. It wasn't a long walk though, even with all the detours she had to take to avoid unpleasantries, and she got to her destination by ten.
Needless to say, mrs Evans wasn't happy when Andrea knocked on the door. The woman's disapproving frown was only slightly bellied by the apparent relief in her eyes.
"Curfew was at nine." The older woman said, clearly tired of having to repeat it day after day, but she offered no other words of punishment when she turned away. "Left overs are in the fridge. Eat, take a shower and get to bed. You've got school tomorrow."
"Thanks, mrs Evans!" She called after the woman as she stepped inside, trying to bite back any sarcasm. As if she needed reminding that she had school or that she needed to get up early. It was as if the woman still thought she didn't care about her education.
Deciding to pay more attention to her rumbling stomach than to the dark-skinned matron's reprimanding she walked to the kitchen and got some food. Some of the other girls were still up, watching tv or chatting. They ignored her, knowing Andrea was never in the mood to talk.
Cold chicken wasn't what she called an amazing meal, but it would do. After working out you need proteins, which come in meat. She should be grateful the orphanage still got enough funding to afford chicken, let alone to pay a matron who bothered to cook it for them.
Scarfing down the chicken quickly, she then hurried upstairs to take a shower, dropping her dirty sports clothing into the laundry basket as she went. Wiping away grime, grease, and dried sweat was one of the best moments of her day. The warm water falling through her dark hair and making her muscles relax was just what she needed and when she stepped out of the shower she felt as if all the stress was swept into the background. Out of sight, if only until the morning.
It took another three hours for her to finish all her homework and to recount her savings. She might have a safe, but she knew it wasn't foolproof. By now she had enough to live a few months after she left the orphanage, monthly gym and supplies expenses were counted off from her monthly wages, including whatever was needed for herself or the other girls. All emergencies, of course, but if she had the money she wouldn't deny them getting the new shoes they needed for gym or something like that. It's not like they had parents to take care of them or that the orphanage got enough funding for anything besides what was strictly necessary. Andrea worked three jobs in between school and training and... she was tired, but that didn't mean she could take a break.
She didn't want to keep working like this forever, though. She wanted to have a life in which she got more than four hours of sleep every night, thank you very much. But for a better future a university degree was her best bet, in what she still had to decide. Her parents hadn't left any inheritance worth mentioning so she had to get either a loan or a scholarship. That's why she worked hard in the gym, besides the jobs. Scholarships don't come for free and since she wasn't the brightest penny in the jar, a sports-scholarship was her best bet. They don't hand those over to just anyone. She did as much as she could. The orphanage couldn't afford the monthly fees to a gym, they couldn't afford the necessary training for her to excel enough, so getting jobs and training by her own abilities were her only options.
Andrea knew that this was what she had to do since she started middle school. Nothing comes for free, especially for orphans. Not now, not ever. So she kept using what's she'd learned when she was little. Her dad had insisted on her learning to protect herself when she was a kid, so she had gone to karate lessons, as difficult as they had been to afford, and she made use of that later. The middle-school had a martial arts club, which she joined and with which she participated in competitions. Now, in her senior year of high school, with a lot of sweating, with a lot of late nights at the gym and early morning jogs, she had managed to become female junior state champion twice and third in the east coast championships this year. She hadn't been able to afford the entrance fee the year before, but she doubted she would have been able to get very far anyway.
It wasn't that she particularly loved fighting. She was good at it, which meant she could excel, which meant a way for her to get that scholarship. But even then it wasn't certain that she would. Andrea had applied to a lot of universities, that had already cost her over four hundred and fifty dollars, but she knew she was at a disadvantage. As good as her sappy application letter had been -orphaned at eleven, left alone in the the world, boo hoo- she was still a girl applying for a sports scholarship, she was still latina and she was far from the only person with a sappy story.
The next morning Andrea ran out of St. Agatha's home for girls with a half-eaten bun in her hand and her school bag over her shoulder. She'd overslept a bit and missed the alarm for her morning run so she'd had to cut her shower short and hadn't washed her hair. Which was just as well, really, she'd showered the night before anyway.
School was uneventful. She kept up with classes as best as she could, made notes and didn't chat. That was fine though, she never had much time for friends and her only friend -Hyun- only ever showed up past midday on Thursdays. He didn't care much for his education; he had his future all planned out and it didn't involve college. His parents owned a big, fancy Korean restaurant which he was going to work in after high school and run after his parents retired, and it was also what he wanted to do. The only reason they started hanging out was because they both kicked ass in the martial arts club once they entered high-school. Then again, he did taekwondo and she did karate so they never actually sparred with each other so that helped for the lack of competitive resentment.
When Hyun finally did drop down in a chair beside her in History, he passed a little brown bag over to her.
"Eomma sends you this." He told her, covering his yawning mouth with one hand. "Jeon left overs from our lunch today. You like those, right?"
"Love them." She grinned and put them in her bag. "Guess I won't have to go back to Agatha's for dinner."
"Great." He rolled his eyes. "Like that's enough of a meal. Whatever, it's your problem if you pass out at work. I'll pick you up at Fernando's to go to the dojo, yeah? Seven thirty?"
"Yeah." She shrugged.
"You heard anything from the uni's?" He whispered, lowering his voice as their teacher came in.
"Nada." Andrea sighed. "They should answer sometime this week though. So that gives them today and tomorrow."
He didn't mention her visibly growing anxiety, which she was thankful for. They both knew very well that after all the backup colleges she'd applied to, she didn't have a plan F.
When the classes ended she grabbed her spare sports bag from her locker and took off for Fernando's, twelve blocks away from the school.
Andrea finished putting away all the new merchandise into the back storage in Fernando's shop before heading to the front. It closed at nine, but her shift went from four thirty to seven thirty at seven dollars an hour. Less than the minimum wage, but at least he wouldn't give her job away just like that. He couldn't, not really. The shop was actually Rosa's, legally speaking, his mom, but she was old and had handed the reigns over to him. Made him promise to keep Andrea hired for as long as she wanted to be, though, so that was good.
"Fernando, ya terminé. Son las siete y media." She told him, leaning against the counter.
The older man, though he must have been somewhere in his mid-twenties, looked up at her from his cross-word. "Ya?" He looked over her shoulder to where the corner which was previously filled with boxes now lay empty. "Bueno. Tres horas, veintiuno. No?"
"Uh-huh." She nodded and accepted the twenty and the one he handed over. "Hasta el martes."
"Nos vemos, nena." He winked, jokingly reminding her of how Rosa tried and failed to set them up before. It had been something they'd both been disturbed by at the time but now they just laughed it off. He wasn't exactly her type.
Andrea snickered and walked out the door, her school bag and sports bag over her shoulder, and looked at the corner. Hyun was already waiting for her, leaning on a streetlight with a cigarette between his lips.
"Ey, pendejo, put that out man." She scowled. "Trying to get a sports-scholarship here! You want my lungs shrivelling up?"
"What about my lungs?" He shrugged, stepping on the cylinder anyway.
"Tough luck, mi amor." She scowled. "You chose to inhale that shit."
He punched her arm lightly before they took off. Fernando's shop was on the other side of the Bronx from the dojo they were a part of and they had to take a detour past mr. Carpaccio's gym so they had to hurry. Good thing mr. Heong, the owner, was a friend of Hyun's dad so they got to train after hours sometimes.
She'd taken thirty dollars from her safe that morning to be able to pay the gym fees, adding the thirty to the twenty she'd gotten. On the way there she grabbed the paper bag from her backpack and started munching on the jeon, which made her groan in satisfaction. Working all day made her hungry so this was a welcome filling for her stomach.
"One of these days I'm gonna drag you back to my house to my mother. Eomma keeps complaining about you working too hard and not eating." Hyun frowned.
"I eat!" She retorted. "When I get back, mostly. I'm not gonna take time off to eat or spend any of my money on it. There's a reason Agatha's gets some government funding, ok? Might as well let the system do something, like making sure we don't starve."
That night went on as most nights did. The training was rough and it left her arms and legs shaking, it left all her muscles painfully hardened and her knuckles and palms red and more callused than before. It was good though. She might not like fighting, but physical exercise worked wonders on exhausting her enough to not think about anything. After she was done all she had to do was drag herself to the orphanage, eat a bit, take a shower and work on her homework. Then it was off to bed.
Sleep, rise, repeat.
"Andrea?" Mrs. Evans called out as she entered the kitchen.
The eighteen year old paused, hands still rubbing a towel over her damp hair, and turned to her. In her mouth she was holding a bun, part of her rushed breakfast, and over her shoulder her schoolbag was already in place on her back for her to rush out.
She finished taking a bite and removed the bun from her mouth, then she swallowed. "Yeah?"
Mrs. Evans was sitting at the table with the five other girls, holding a bunch of large envelopes. The girls, ranging from the ages twelve to seventeen as Andrea was the oldest by a year, looked up at her expectantly. They may not be family or in any way close, but she was the resident that looked out for them most so in a way they looked up to her. What could she say? She hated bullies, wether they were people or policies.
"These are for you." The woman said, excitement in her voice apparent. "They're from the colleges."
"Oh." Was all Andrea heard herself say. Slowly, she moved forwards, trying to ignore the twisting in her she got to the table, her fingers trailed over the six envelopes. NYU, Columbia, Fordham, Pace, Baruch and Hunter's. All of them were in New York, but that was for the best. Moving away was expensive and getting jobs in other cities is hard if you don't know people. She knew people in NYC, they weren't friends but they knew her and either owed her or her parents. New York was safe.
She sat down, letting the towel over her hair fall to her shoulders, and hesitated only a second before opening the first letter. Columbia. The one she had the smallest chances with, being and Ivy League school and all, so she had the lowest expectations.
Her eyes trailed down the letter, unsurprised to find she'd been rejected for the scholarship and for entrance. Her grades weren't high enough, they'd gotten many fantastic offers, yada yada. She couldn't help the pit that started forming in her stomach.
NYU. Rejected for both. Same reasons as Columbia, also saying she hadn't participated in enough after school projects. Af is she had time for that. They probably hadn't even bothered to research her, only looked at the information given, so she never had a chance in the first place.
Fordham. Rejected for both, same reasons.
Pace. Rejected for both, but named her disciplinary issues in high school besides the obvious reasons. She hated bullies, particularly privileged, blinded bullies like ones she'd gotten into fights with. At least they had bothered to look her up.
The pit kept growing and she was sinking. Her hands were starting to shake and she could feel her mouth dying up. Was it normal to have problems breathing? In all her harsh training she'd never found it more difficult.
Baruch rejected her scholarship application, but accepted her attendance. As did Hunter's. How the hell was she gonna pay for that? Loans? She was probably going to struggle surviving on an everyday basis, let alone to pay off a sixty thousand dollar debt... before taxes and interest and everything. There was no way she could do that.
"I think-" She started speaking, but cut herself off. Numbly, she started folding all the letters and shoving them in a notebook in her bag. "I'm gonna be late for school."
"Wait, Andrea!" Mrs. Evans started, looking at her with concerned eyes. "What did they say?"
Andrea's brown eyes trailed to the excited faces of the woman and the girls. The girls, hoping that the hard work of at least one of them paid off. If she said no now... they'd stop trying altogether. If they stopped trying then... the system that was put in place, the one which made it near impossible to win, would remain unchallenged. It would take all hope to achieve better from them. No, she couldn't say that.
"I got it." She lied, smiling. "The scholarship to Baruch's. Got in."
"You don't seem too happy about that." One of the girls, Tanya, commented, raising an eyebrow.
"It's a lot to process." Andrea licked her lips. "Right now I need to- I need to go, you know, think about all of this. Consider my courses and such. Could I- d'you think I could skip school just this once, mrs. Evans?"
The woman wasn't fooled. She looked at the girl with pity in her eyes, disappointment even. For the first time in her life, pity angered Andrea. This pity wasn't going to help her, it wasn't going to give her a job of provide for her future. It was useless. She didn't want it.
"Of course. Don't be late for dinner, though." Mrs. Evans, Miranda, told her.
Andrea wasted no time in hurrying upstairs to her room. There she dropped her bag under her bed and grabbed the empty duffle bag she used to go to the gym. She shoved a pair of sports pants, a sports bra and a tank top inside, right with a roll of tape, some socks, and a pair of shoes she kept from using outside so she could wear them in the gym. Without glancing at anyone around her she ran out of the orphanage and to mr. Carpaccio's. She needed to punch something, she needed to stop thinking.
It wasn't even eight in the morning yet, the gym would still be closed and no-one would be looking to work out. Everyone had somewhere to be, except her. Of course, she could got to mr. Carpaccio's house and ask him for the keys to the gym... By the time she got there and back it'd already be opening time though, a waste of time and energy really, it'd be best to just wait it out. Just a half hour.
A defeated groan escaped her as she slammed her hand against the closed door. Before she could help it she'd already started playing off the various scenarios in her head. What was she supposed to do now? She'd never be able to afford to go to college, even if she did get a loan. Which was doubtful since she didn't have parents to help her get it, to vouch for her and help her persuade the bank and stuff. God knew that no matter how much mrs. Evans might want to help her, she couldn't take the place of her parents in this. She was the matron of the orphanage, her legal guardian only until she turned eighteen, which she already had. Mrs. Evans couldn't help her in this, no-one could.
Biting back the desperate sobs threatening to spill out, she let herself punch the hard surface and then sit on the floor with her back against it. She was past caring about whatever gross things were on the pavement or on the door, she didn't care if there was gum or old food or even if the graffiti she was leaning against was still wet. People walked past her and she paid them just as little mind as they did her.
It wasn't like Andrea to give in to self-pity. She didn't do that, she got up, shook it off and kept going. Except now she had nowhere to go to. That had been her way out. Her way to a better place, one where she (probably) wouldn't have to work seventy hours a week to live a decent life. Because once she left Agatha's, she'd have to. She had few options now; one, she could try to get the loan and on the off chance she did she could live the rest of her life in debt and scrambling to pay it off. Two; she could also get a normal job, maybe Hyun's eomma would even give her a full time job at the restaurant... But that's not what she wanted. The only reason she wanted to go to university was because she wanted a good and stable life, she wanted to do something worth the effort. That didn't include washing dishes or cleaning houses or manning a register until she was fifty, she didn't want that. She wanted her efforts to not have been for nothing. If she didn't go to college, everything was for nothing. If she took a loan, then her working her ass of for the gym for her championships wasn't worth it. Just a waste of time and energy. That hurt even more than the rejections.
"Are you going to keep sitting there in the dirt, or are you going to get off your ass?" A voice sounded, making her look up from the floor between her feet.
There was a woman. She was pale, had brown hair and light eyes and was looking at her with a deeply disapproving stare.
"What's it to you, gringa?" Andrea spat.
"Who're you calling gringa, niña?" The woman scowled, lips pursing. "Solo porque tengo piel clara..." She sighed and extended her hand. "Maria Hill."
Andrea looked at the hand, considering her options, before taking it. There was no way her day was getting any worse anyway. "Andrea Ramirez."
"I know." Hill nodded. "Come on, tenemos que hablar."
The girl grit her teeth. What had she gotten herself into now? All she hoped was that it wasn't the mob, that was absolutely none of her business and not something she wanted to get involved in.
As the woman started to walk away she motioned for Andrea to follow her, which she did, for some reason she couldn't afterwards remember. Together they weaved their way through the crowd, avoiding the larger groups of people until they got to a small run down diner which seemed to just have been emptied out of the breakfast clients, leaving only a few booths occupied. They went inside and the woman led her to the last booth in a corner, away from the windows and with full view of the rest of the room. The other customers paid them no mind, continuing their whispered conversations without pause.
A waitress made to come over but Hill waved her off with a smile. "Just two coffees please, with a bagel for each." She called over.
"What do you want?" Andrea questioned once the woman turned back, her voice low so they wouldn't be overheard.
"For someone who was just picked up by a stranger who knows their name, you don't seem too freaked out." Hill commented.
"I am, but I've sort of reached my maximum freak out level today so I'm recalibrating of sorts." Andrea muttered spitefully.
A faint smirk tugged on the woman's lips but she continued unhindered by the apparent bitterness. "So I take it you got rejected?"
"How would you know about that?" She frowned, her eyes widening in alarm. "And- you know what? Why don't you explain how you know my name and -clearly- where to find me fist of all."
"You've been the female middle-weight junior state-champion for two years. My employers monitor skilled people all the time." Hill shrugged. "Mostly we don't do anything with these people and so they never find out about us."
"But..." Andrea prompted.
Hill remained quiet as the waitress approached with their order and didn't speak until the woman had left. "There's about a hundred special cases a year and you are one of them."
"A hundred?" She questioned.
"Of your age category. There's one or two per state." The woman explained, taking a sip from her coffee.
"Wait, wait-" Andrea held up her hands. "Your employers monitor skilled people and they choose a hundred a year? For what? And who are your employers? You're being really vague, mujer."
"I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We monitor threats and for that we need agents, operatives, so we also monitor possible employees. We recruit many each year, but the youngest cadets are recruited at your age, after high-school." Maria told her. "We monitor all possible candidates, of which champions and otherwise excelling students in different fields -sports and academic- are a large part."
"Why?" Andrea licked her lips. "You just pick kids and hire them-?"
"No. They're candidates to become cadets who are trained to be agents." Maria frowned. "We also make sure they pass multiple attitude tests and that they're suitable to become part of S.H.I.E.L.D."
Andrea snorted. "Attitude tests? Clearly you haven't done your research because one of the reasons I didn't get the scholarships was my many 'disciplinary issues'."
"Those would have been enough to disqualify you, but I said otherwise." Hill admitted.
"You said?" Andrea repeated. "And you have the power to do that, huh, gringa? Why, anyway?"
Hill visibly rolled her eyes at Andrea's disrespect but answered. "I am the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I believe there's more to those 'issues' than stated in the school files. A couple of school fights don't mean you're a bad kid."
"You give all the kids the benefit of the doubt?" Andrea smirked. "Or just the pretty ones like me?"
Hill looked decidedly unimpressed. "Don't make me regret my decision, Ramirez."
"Your decision? Lady, you haven't even asked me if I wanna join! I don't even know what 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' does, let alone fully believe that it actually exists!" Andrea scowled. "For all I know you could be some crazy stalker tying to get me to go to her dungeon."
"Do I look like a crazy stalker to you?" Hill raised an eyebrow.
"Dunno, crazy stalkers look like everyday people. That's why the stalkee never notices them." Andrea shrugged.
Hill seemed to physically refrain herself from rolling her eyes before ignoring the exchange. "S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors threats and neutralizes them, mostly supernatural threats that normal security organizations like the CIA can't deal with. Like HYDRA, which you should know about if the high-school curriculum hasn't changed." She looked at her pointedly. "Don't you want to serve your country?"
For a second Andrea paused before her blood began to boil. "Not really, no. My country? No me hagas reir, gringa. What's it ever done for me, eh? This system, this society that pushes the ones that are low down even lower down and pushes the ones on top even further up. My country that takes it upon itself to forcefully recreate our version of 'peace' and 'democracy' and an 'acceptable society' on other countries? I don't like bullies, sure as hell not gonna serve an authoritative and hypocritical one as this."
As opposed to the shocked/appalled/angry reaction Andrea was expecting, Hill smiled contentedly. "I knew you were interesting. But no, that's not what we do. We only find and neutralize specific threats to our country, and unlike the rest of the country and security organizations we are led by a council made up of representatives of many different countries. S.H.I.E.L.D serves mainly the United States but does not rely on solely our own government's judgement for leadership." She looked at Andrea carefully. "I don't see it as serving the system because that's not what we serve, I see it as serving the people. The ones that can't protect themselves. The normal civilians, like the girls in St. Agatha's, like your current employers, like your friend Hyun and his family-"
"Stop that." Andrea scowled. "Listen, I understand that you looked up everything about me, but if you don't want me running for the hills I suggest you stop listing off my acquaintances." Then she shrugged. "Besides, even if I accepted your whole 'for the people' explanation, why should I do it?"
"Because I know what type of person you are. I've been watching you for too long not to. Since you won your first state championship last year, to be precise." Hill smirked. "You bust your ass to be able to live a life you like, even if you don't know what that life entails. You haven't even picked a major yet, but you worked hard to gain it anyway. You got into fights to protect those girls, without having any stronger bonds than sharing a living space. You're fiery and angry at the injustice of society and on the one side you want to live your life comfortably but on the other side you want to do something worthwhile for people like you. You're tired of working day and night but I think that most of all you're tired of working day and night for something you aren't fully convinced you want."
Hill shrugged. "You could continue on this path you've chosen, of course. Reject this offer and get a loan or not go to college and get a normal job, but that'd be a waste of all the effort you've put in. You'd be tired for nothing."
Andrea glared at the table between them, taking violently large bites of her bagel and chewing it roughly. As if she'd read her mind. She was beyond freaked out now, this was treading into annoying frightening waters. "And if I chose to do it, for whatever stupid reason? What then?"
"Then you come to the training camp outside DC. You train for three years and then you move to a S.H.I.E.L.D paid apartment in the city. You're put in a division and paid monthly wages and live your life." Hill told her. "What your job entails depends on the division and your specialization after the second year of training. Could be anything from a scientific background to jet pilot."
"So I'd have to leave. Will I be allowed to have contact with anyone back here?" She asked.
"Depends on the person. They have to have their backgrounds checked for security reasons, but if you're referring to your friend Hyun then I believe that won't be a problem."
Andrea swallowed and nodded. "I'll think about it."
It wasn't a lie. It was something to consider, once the goosebumps had disappeared off her skin. She got to her feet, swinging her bag over her shoulder.
Before she could leave Hill caught her arm. "I became interested in you because there's something you have which will make you a great agent."
"What's that?" Andrea snarked, trying to pull her arm out of the strong grip.
"Grit. The ability to work hard and keep going and not take shit." Hill stated. "You have until tomorrow at twelve to make up your mind. When you do, call this number. Tell them I said to inform me directly." The woman put a small white card in her hand.
"Why did you come to me personally anyway, Deputy Director?" Andrea scowled.
"I told you. I was interested." Hill narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't going to make another agent waste their time for my whims now was I?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Andrea shrugged, dropping the card in her bag. "Take care, gringa."
Then she made her way out of the diner and to the gym. She really needed to punch something now.
Andrea knocked on the glass hurriedly, trying to cover her head from the rain with the duffle bag.
"Come on, Hyun! Open the damn window!" She called in.
After a few seconds the lights went on and the window opened, revealing a ruffled looking asian boy with a fierce scowl on his face. "It's three in the morning, nyon. What the hell are you thinking?" Nevertheless, he stood to the side and let her in.
She dropped onto the ground with a thump, closing the window to the fire-escape behind her. Her hair was wet and dripping and her clothes were clinging to her and her teeth were chattering. She hated the rain, always felt like a drowned cat when she got out of it.
"Mind telling me why you skipped school?" Hyun ranted, rummaging through his drawers for dry a shirt and pants that would fit her. He threw them at her and turned his back to her so she would start changing. "You never miss school. It was completely unexpected, out of character, irresp-
"Got rejected to all scholarships." Andrea interrupted him. Somehow it felt like it'd happened much longer ago, but she still felt angry tears forming in the corners of her eyes. With a rough wrist she wiped them away and started undressing. "I'm screwed on that front."
"Ah, shi-bal." He cursed. "I'm so sorry, An."
"It's... not fine. I'm more than disappointed." She sighed. "It's like the ground is yanked from under you, ya know? And you got no idea where you're falling to. I just- I was sure I would get at least one, you know?"
"Yeah." He muttered. "So was I."
She tapped him on the shoulder once she'd finished changing and he pushed her over to the bed. Once she was seated he grabbed a towel from another drawer and started drying her hair. She leaned back against him, letting him comfort her. He let her be silent, let her wallow. She knew he had her back.
"So what's the plan now?" He asked her eventually, gently rubbing her hair between towel-clad hands.
For a few minutes it was silent before she decided to throw all caution in the wind. Hill hadn't told her she couldn't tell Hyun. Not literally anyway, she could always play dumb. So what if it'd scared her shitless at the time? She'd read 1984, she knew it wasn't impossible, least of all with all the 'control in the fight against terrorism' the government had going on. She was calm now, so she told him every single thing Hill had said.
"And you believe that? The whole, for the people thing? You think they actually care?" She could feel his scowl on the back of her head. "And you're sure this is all true and she's not lying about this... this S.H.I.E.L.D even existing?"
"I don't know. She didn't seem like she was lying, but then if she wasn't lying about that then that means she's a spy. She lies for a living. What do I know?" Andrea groaned. "But... it sounds worth it? I mean, like I wouldn't be throwing away everything I've done. I don't like fighting, but I don't know what I do like either. Might as well do what I'm good at, right?"
"I don't know, An." He rested his chin on her head, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Do you think it's what you'd want to end up doing?"
"I want... She's right, you know? I want to do something worthwhile." Andrea sighed.
"But being a spy doesn't really help any of the normal people. Not on a day to day basis." He argued. "It might be making use of what you can do, of what you've done until now, and if you don't know what your destination is exactly then that's as good as any. Better than your other choices I suppose. But it won't be improving the living conditions for 'the people', you know that. It's not something that's directly worthwhile for anyone."
"I guess." She admitted. "But... I won't be able to improve anyone's conditions anyway, not with my choices now. I'm not going to be able to change the system, not me. Don't you think I might as well keep them safe until someone else can?"
"Why are you asking me?" Hyun asked her, pouting slightly. "Sounds like you've already made up your mind."
Andrea sighed. "I guess. Mind if I borrow your phone?"
"Eomma's gonna miss you, An." Hyun sighed as he parked the car. "You'll keep in touch, won't you? I didn't get you that phone for nothing."
"You really didn't have to, asshole." She scowled. "I had enough savings to buy one myself."
He shrugged. "You'd just put all your money in the bank, got yourself new stuff and everything. You deserved something nice as a reward for growing up." He smirked. "Besides, appa said you should get a graduation present like everyone else. They paid half."
Andrea rolled her eyes. "Thank them for me. Them buying it is even worse than you doing it."
She opened the door and got out, plucking the stuffed duffle bag from the back seat and waiting beside the car for Hyun to get out too. He did, hurrying over to her and pulling her into a hug. It was a tight hug, nearly suffocating her against his chest, but she hugged him back. Really, he was her only friend. He was the only one she ever really had. Her nose itched with the smell of cigarette smoke, but she inhaled it all the deeper. Smells stick with you.
"Thanks for driving me, Hyun. I owe you one." She told him, forcing a smile.
"Oh, you know. Now you gotta save me first if monsters attack New York, ne?" Hyun smirked, his eyes also betraying how hard he was finding it to say goodbye.
"Definitely." She nodded. Then she looked down, biting her lip. "Thanks for everything, Hyun. I'm going to miss you."
"Yeah, you too." He kissed her forehead softly. "Gonna miss having you around, jamaeui. /Visit when you can."
"Will do. Take care, hermano." She returned the sentiment and punched him lightly on the arm. "But I think I should go now."
At his terse nod she turned away. They'd parked almost a mile away from the building so that they wouldn't arouse suspicion; Hill had said she should come alone. By the time she could see the fence of the camp Hyun and the car had already vanished around the corner of the road and between the trees. Soon after that the road became straight again and she could see the entrance.
Pausing for a second, Andrea took a deep breath and the walked to the screen by the gates. Through the bars she could see a field where a bunch of people in dark blue uniforms were running laps around a large building made of mostly cement. It had large windows though, and it seemed modern and well kept. So that was the S.H.I.E.L.D training camp?
Andrea pressed a button by the screen and waited for an agent to appear.
"Name and registration code?" He asked, looking her carefully up and down.
"Andrea Ramirez." She told him and, relieved that she'd bothered to learn the number by heart, dictated: "7729503."
It took the man a few seconds to find her on the register but when he did the gates swung open.
"Welcome, cadet Ramirez. Please proceed to the welcome hall and await the instructions of you trainers along with you fellow recruits." He told her.
The girl swallowed and nodded, walking inside.
Mierda – shit (Spanish)
Ragazza – girl, teen-wise (Italian)
Reñor – mister (Spanish)
Gracias – thank you (Spanish)
Eomma – mom (Korean)
Jeon – korean dish, like a pancake
Nada – nothing (Spanish)
Ya terminé. Son las siete y media. - I'm finished. It's half past seven. (Spanish)
Ya? - Already? (Spanish)
Bueno. Tres horas, veintiuno. No? - Alright. Three hours, twenty one. Right? (Spanish)
Hasta el martes. - Until Tuesday. (Spanish)
Nos vemos, nena. - We'll see eachother, girl. (Spanish)
Pendejo – brat/stupid, male (Spanish)
Mi amor – my love (Spanish)
Gringa – insulting word used for white women/non latina women (Spanish)
Niña – girl, child-wise(Spanish)
Solo porque tengo piel clara – just because I have light skin (Spanish)
Tenemos que hablar. - we need to talk (Spanish)
Mujer – woman (Spanish)
No me hagas reir – don't make me laugh (Spanish)
Nyon – girl, slang (Korean)
Shi-bal – fuck (Korean)
Appa – dad (Korean)
Ne – yeah (Korean)
Jamaeui - sister (Korean)
Hermano – brother (Spanish)