This is some word vomit of mine. Please R&R.

Disclaimer: Avengers is not mine, Unfortunately.

I hated being the new kid. Not that it was uncommon for me - I had attended a total of eight different schools in my almost 11 years of being a student. But honestly, transferring to the tiny Swindon Town high school just outside of Manhattan was not my ideal situation.

I boarded the rusting yellow school bus in the torrential downpour that decided to encroach upon the first day of school. Because apparently nature hates children. I dropped into a seat towards the back of the bus, pulling the grey hood of my jacket over my head before shoving my earphones back in my ears. Another first day. Joy.

Three stops later, the bus was overflowing with obnoxious freshmen and concerningly stereotypical teenage douchebags. Miraculously, my seat remained mine alone. Until a boy decided to sit beside me. I looked at him in distaste. He was enormous, his biceps practically exploding under his navy V-neck. He grinned widely at me.

"Hello," his deep voice rumbled, laced with a thick British accent, "I'm Thor."

I tried not to snort as I replied, "Genevieve." Thor? What parent in their right mind would name their child Thor?

"This here is my brother," Thor continued, oblivious to my skeptical gaze, "He is Loki."

I looked at the boy he was pointing to. He was tall and thin, with long black hair and high cheekbones. His dark green eyes lingered on me for a second before he sat down a few rows in front of us. I nodded, trying not to roll my eyes. Honestly, I probably wouldn't be staying at the school for long. My parents worked for some covert government agency. They couldn't even tell me what they did.

Thankfully we pulled up at the school before the conversation could fully begin. I mumbled some civil crap like "nice to meet you" before sauntering off the bus. The rain hadn't let up as I trudged up the steps to the main doors. Soaked and thoroughly miserable, I went into the office to pick up my schedule.

I stood at the desk while a woman dug through her files to find a copy of the dreaded timetable. I drummed my fingers on the table impatiently, glancing around the room and into the hall. Just before I could open my mouth with some sarcastic remark about the difficulties of finding a piece of paper, a boy walked in. He looked about my age, with ruffled brown hair, sporting a purple button down and a tweed jacket.

"Mrs. Lyle," he began, "I'm here to help the new kid." Great. A suck up.

"Thank you Mr. Banner," the administrator said, "If you could show Miss Clarke her classes?" She slid my schedule across the counter to him.

"Finally," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Mrs. Lyle glared at me.

"Okay," the boy started, "Let's find your first period." We walked down the hallway, out of earshot of the office before speaking again.

"I'm Bruce," he said, sticking out his hand. I took it before replying.

"Gen."

"And here's AP Chem," he gestured at a room, "Actually I have this class too." I drowned out his speech about science and observed the student interactions in the hallway. There were the normal groups, of course. Jocks, preps, nerds, band kids, whatever. I'm pretty sure I threw up a little in my mouth at the disgusting normality of it all.

Bruce led me around in the next 15 minutes, showing me how torturous the next seven hours of my life would be. By the time we returned to the office I was feeling exceptionally pessimistic.

"Thanks," I said with false cheer. He waved and left to go meet with his friends. He was a nice guy, but I couldn't keep up with his massive intellect.

I entered my empty AP Chemistry class, choosing a seat at the very back. My teacher smiled reassuringly at me. I spent the next ten minutes trying to look busy so I wouldn't have to talk to him. When students finally started filing in, I pulled out a pen and spiral and began doodling absently.

"Can I sit here?" I heard a voice ask. I looked up to see a well-built boy with sandy hair. His leather jacket was brown and thrown over a white t-shirt and dark wash jeans. I nodded, hesitant. A gaggle of girls glared at me as he grinned, sinking into the seat beside me. Females could be disturbingly clingy. He was just a human. Humans aren't perfect. I mean, he was attractive, but I was fairly certain from my first glance that he was gay.

"I'm Steve," he said, "Steve Rogers."

"Genevieve Clarke. But you can call me Gen."

"Steve!" an irritated voice called from the doorway. Another boy with dark hair and a narcissistic grin came and sat down beside Steve. I looked at the way Steve glanced at his friend. Yep. Definitely gay.

"I'm Tony," the other boy grinned, "Are you the new kid?"

"No," I said, voice dripping in sarcasm, "I'm the new janitor. Pick up your shit, kid."

He let out a short laugh, "I like you. You're mean."

I gave him a small smile. A real one. This year might not be as bad as the last ones.

And then Loki walked in.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, not looking sorry at all. He sat behind me, throwing his bag onto the ground, not even bothering to pull out his textbook as the teacher began his lecture.

"Welcome to hell," he muttered. I couldn't agree more.