Yes, the rumours were true- he'd made the soccer team.
It had come as a surprise, given Steve was the scrawniest, lankiest kid in the school. Soccer season of junior year, Steve was a sub, sitting on the bench most games, waiting for someone to get injured so that he'd have some sort of shot at being in a game. It didn't happen. Steve was determined to do something, though.
The summer before senior year, Steve struggled to get into shape, but slowly built up muscle at his job in the local bakery. Hauling sack of flour and moving entire glass cases kept him busy, and made him enough money to get a car- an old 1950's style Ford of a light blue colour with chrome rims. He loved the car and spent the summer keeping it looking good as the heat wore away and the impending doom of senior year approached. Steve had dropped soccer in order to make room for his various studies, but did find himself visiting the soccer tryouts for the new school year at the end of July. It was a bittersweet feeling as he realised that the team would be fine without him, if not better off.
Upon returning to school as a senior this year, he felt like something was off, but didn't realise what, until seeing the faded stickers on the locker next to his. Locker 69420 used to have a team lacrosse magnet reading 'Barnes' on it, but instead of it being there, it was a discoloured spot that was brighter than the rest of the locker. Steve was good friends with Bucky Barnes, and wondered if he'd quit the team. He would have asked, but Bucky wasn't in any of his classes, which was a first in years.
Steve figured he could ask Bucky when he saw him next, which would be at a small music festival that weekend. Every year he and Bucky went together and enjoyed the groups that came to the music midtown madness. God, Steve couldn't wait to see Bucky and ask him about the whole lacrosse situation.
"Rogers?"
Steve turned at the familiar drawl at none other than the richest guy in town, Tony Stark (or 'Tony Stank' as one kid had dubbed him last year). He could only wonder what Stark wanted now, and set his jaw as he waited for the harassment to slip past that mouth that was able to fit a whole fucking silver shovel in it.
"What do you want, Stark?" Steve crossed his arms, and Tony looked him us and down, his jaw falling slack, before he shook his head, as if trying to shake thoughts from his brain.
"Y-You, I- uh…" Stark scowled suddenly sowled and glared at him, before muttering a soft, 'dipshit' and walking away.
Steve could only raise a brow in response, to which one of the members of Stark's entourage, Pepper Potts, stopped and patted his shoulder in a sympathetic notion.
"He just doesn't know what to do now that you're hot, Steve." Pepper stage-whispered to him, and offered him a small smile before returning to Stark's side.
Steve found it hard to comprehend. He thought Stark was a thing with Pepper, but he supposed he must have been misinformed. Steve wasn't exactly on the uppermost rung of the social hierarchy, and thus when news of the aristocracy trickled down to him, it was mostly diluted and filled with rumours. Steve didn't really care about the drama or the aristocracy that Stark led in the school, but learning that Stark thought that he was good looking? Like, romantically? God, Stark was shallow if he was basing everything on Steve's looks alone, especially since in years' past, he'd gone to all lengths possible to pretend like Steve didn't exist.
As if the day couldn't get any worse, Bucky texted him to tell him that he was unable to attend the music midtown festival this year due to 'unforseen circumstances'.
So all in all? The first day of senior year sucked.
It could only go up from here, right?