A/N: It's been a while since I wrote anything with a word limit, and it's killing me. Also, wow there's a decent amount of people following along. I'd love to hear what you all think!

Thrown to the Wind

Country

"Pyrrha! Where's your head at? Keep going!" Glynda Goodwitch, the coach for the women's track team, called for the umpteenth time that day. Pyrrha winced, throwing herself back into another lap down the aquatic centre's swimming pool.

The pool was quiet on that Sunday morning. The day was going to be given to strength training, and she was already dreading having to be under the woman's watchful gaze. All of her peers giggled every time Glynda called her out for her airheaded behaviour, trading knowing glances, tittering quietly. They knew why Pyrrha kept sighing relentlessly. Nora's videos of her sighing dreamily while doing her homework all through Saturday's study session had been already circulated around the entire varsity team, and they lived for the gossip.

Pyrrha Nikos, a contender to represent their country in the next Summer Olympics, the pride of their team and their ace for every track meet in the javelin throw, had fallen in love.

The redhead blushed as dark as her hair as she thought back to the boy in the convenience store. It couldn't be love, could it? That word didn't belong to her- she was someone who didn't 'fall in love'. She had a dream to achieve. Being an athlete, bringing victory to her homeland and her family- that was all she had ever wanted in her life.

Yet, she couldn't deny how her thoughts kept drifting off to the blond every single time Glynda stopped speaking. She could still recall the heat of his hand, the shy, embarrassed way he had flipped his hair. She just didn't know what to do- how could she, when this was the first time she had ever felt like this about anyone?

Nora had made fun of her the entire day before. "You don't even know anything about him!" the orange-haired girl had cackled over and over again, cheerfully working on a play analysis she needed to finish for a required class for her theatre major. "Was he really that perfect?"

And Pyrrha had spluttered and scoffed, because it totally wasn't true- she did know about the blond. Enough, at least. He was sweet and welcoming and polite; he wasn't very good at Sudoku puzzles, based on the quick glance she had given his puzzle while he had struggled to finish scanning Nora's items; he was terminally clumsy in every way; he pouted when he was confused or concentrating; and he was still tall and strong and Pyrrha wanted to brush those blond locks out of his eyes, just as blue and wide as the sky she loved running under every morning during practice.

And, most importantly, he had no idea who Pyrrha was.

Without any recognition from him, that meant that Pyrrha actually had a chance to get to know him. Ever since she had come to Beacon two years earlier, every single class, frat or house party, club event, and sporting meet was full of people who knew too much. They always asked her for tips, or pointers, or her least favourite question of all- How do you have enough time to study and train, if you're going to be an Olympian?

It was so obnoxious. So to walk into that corner store as a purely anonymous figure was so refreshing that she wanted to hold onto that freedom forever.

Glynda's whistle finally blew. "Ten minutes, then meet in the weight room!" the woman called, marking down notes sternly on her clipboard. Before Pyrrha could leave with the rest of her team, however, the woman called, "Pyrrha, a word."

With a heavy sigh, the redhead pulled herself out of the water, shuffling over as quickly as she could on the slippery tile without tripping. "What is it, coach?" she asked lightly, feigning innocence.

The blonde woman was having none of it. "What's going on with you today, Pyrrha?" Glynda asked gently. "You're out of it. We're almost at our first meet of the year."

The redhead shook her head, pulling off her swimming cap wearily. "I know," she replied glumly. "I… I'm just…"

Dark, wise eyes softened. "Are you worried about… midterms?"

Mutely, the redhead nodded. Midterms. Definitely a concern in the middle of… September? "Yup."

A lie, and they both knew it. Who cared about midterms barely three weeks into the new term? But thankfully, her coach didn't press the issue. "Keep your studies up, Pyrrha- but don't slack off. When you're here, you need to be here."

"Of course," the redhead agreed.

"You're Pyrrha Nikos. We believe in you." Smiling encouragingly at the girl, Glynda nodded her head over to the change rooms. "Go on, go dry off. You have," she checked her watch, "six minutes to be in the weight room."

Pyrrha straightened her shoulders, looking down at the coach confidently at the sound of her full name. Her coach was right. She needed to get focused on the task at hand, and that task definitely did not involve cute cashiers who couldn't count change to save their lives.

But the moment practice ended that day, her mind was circling back where it had been before. When it came time to sit in Doctor Oobleck's class on Monday (another student had called him 'Professor' once and the man had destroyed him so politely that Pyrrha was always careful about the distinction) and discuss the impact of intersectionality on working-class women in marginalized communities after the Great War, the only thing she could think of was blue eyes and broad shoulders and hands that were warm and clumsy, so unlike her own. The doctor only scolded her once that day for not paying attention. It wasn't the last time that day she was caught with stars in her eyes, though.