Two days earlier on Saturday, Peggy's aunt had enrolled her to SHIELD high, so Peggy already had her schedule when she walked in the door. She looked over her schedule for the second time that morning. Physical Education – first period. Peggy frowned and kept walking through the halls. She hadn't done even close to as much exercise that she once did since her father had died a month ago. She navigated around a group of guys, a handsome boy with dark hair and a seemingly signature facial hair tried to call her over, but she ignored him. She soon found her way to a newer looking part of the building. The large gym had been recently added onto the original foundation of the building.
Peggy strode confidently in. She didn't know, however, that her entire gym class was made up of the male gender. They were sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the bell to sound the start of class, and nobody had noticed her yet because they were too absorbed in themselves. She went up and sat in the third row, away from the group of guys but next to a quiet African American boy with darker tattoos spiraling down his taut arms. The name on the denim backpack by his feet read "T'Challa." Moments after she sat down, he moved to perch in the top row. Peggy sat her leather bag down, pulling out a photo of her father for a quick glance of faith.
In the two seconds it took for her to look and replace in the side pocket, a scarwney boy had ran in, moments before the bell, and sat next to her. He had pale skin, short blonde hair, practically no muscle at all, and bright blue eyes.
"H-Hello," he said awkwardly, "I haven't seen you around… are you new?"
"Just flew in a few days ago, yes." His face went rad at her voice. She smiled with red lips and away; Mr. Dooley, the gym teacher, had just walked in. He immediately pulled out a clipboard, cipping in a new attendance sheet. He started calling off names alphabetically by first name, his voice booming throughout the gym.
"Parker." He was getting to the end of his list now.
"here…." A small, low voice.
"Carter."
"Here." A confident, female, obviously not American voice. Everybody turned to look. A new student was one thing, but a new female student in a once all male gym class was another.
Dooley looked up for a moment before going back to attendance.
"Rogers."
"Here." The boy next to her spoke up, and he looked over at Peggy as if for approval. She gave him another smile, because that seemed to be her thing, and he went beat red again, because that seemed to be his thing.
"Stark."
"Yes dear?" the dark haired boy from the hallway was sitting back in the center of a group of guys. Dooley rolled his eyes and marked him present.
"Mr. Dooley, you do realize there's a – er—new student." Somebody spoke up. Everybody was thinking it, and everybody was still looking at her.
"Yeah. This is the only gym class that fits her schedule. Unless you're too afraid to run a mile in front a girl, hit the locker rooms."
Slowly but surely, students began to slowly lollygag over to the doors on the other side of the gym marked "LADIES" and "MEN."
"This is the only gym class that works with me schedule, too," he was trying to make conversation, "I'm in the honors block grogram as well as the art program." He grinned, proud of himself.
"Oh really? Are you an artist? You should show me sometime." His blushed again, and before he could answer yes, Stark shoved him inside the locker room saying something about Steve actually being a girl as well. Peggy went into the girls side, where she was the only person there. She opened her school bag and changed into gym clothes: a white t-shirt with the black SHIELD high bird and black gym shorts. By the time she was out, guys were walking laps as instructed by Dooley. She glared at Stark when he wolf whistled as he passed her.
Dooley blew his whistle, calling everybody's attention.
"Start warming up, we're going to the track for a sprinting test. Grading is on a curve." He announced. Stark with his posse all groaned in protest.
Steve began stretching his arms next to Peggy. She glanced up at him,
"for a running test, you might want to stretch your legs," she remarked. The boy T'Challa, who had been stretching his left calf muscles snorted in laughter.
Steve, as if on cue, reddened.
"Let's go ladies,,,," Dooley opened the side door and ushered them out. Right outside the sun gleamed down on a dirt track encircling green turf with various track equipment. Some spots were still muddy from the rain, and the dirt was slightly moist from morning dew. Metal stands, empty of spectators now, surrounded the track. "Alright. Get a partner. Your partner will time you, and you will then time your partner. Move!" Everybody was partnering up so fast, Peggy wasn't sure if anybody would even want to partner up with her. She looked at the Rogers kid. Eye contact. He walked over to her .
"P-Partners..?" he asked shakily.
"Yes, thank you." She said briskly. "You'll go first, hm?" she blinked. He nodded quickly and took his place by the starting line.
In high school, the 100-meter-dash is something that gets your heart pounding and adrenaline rushing. It's only about 12 seconds average for a trained runner in high school. Peggy went to the marker of 100 meters where the rest of the partners were gathering, ready with stop watches. She looked down the field where Steve was crouched in the starting block, looking like a child compared to the other guys.
Dooley fired a starter pistol, sounding the start of the race, and off the runners flew, like birds escaping cats. It all happened in a flash, and they had crossed the 100 meter mark, and there were several clicks as partners stopped their timer. Steve came panting and leaning over toward her, and she had to hide her embarrassed expression behind the watch.
"What did I get?" he asked heavily. Dooley was coming around to check the scores and recording them.
"16.7 seconds...," she tried to sound comforting, but as partners proudly announced times ranging from twelve to fourteen seconds, Steve grew more and more downcast. "Don't worry; you'll get better as you train harder. I promise." She touched his shoulder lightly, but he seemed a bit too upset to blush. She handed him the stopwatch for him to time her as she was called to the starting line.
"Hey Princess, don't worry if you don't do better than little Stevie." A boy named Peter Quill called over to her, taking his place in the third block. Peggy breathed in slowly and slid her feet into the fifth starting block. Stark, who was next to her, commented on her 'nice ass.' She disregarded his comment as Mr. Dooley raised the pistol. Her heart seemed to stop, her eyes focusing ahead. Just like her dad had taught her.
It had been a hot summer afternoon. He had brought home a track starting block and they had spent the afternoon's worth of physical education on how to use said starting block. Everything came rushing back to her as the gun sounded. She didn't hesitate. She flew out, a footstep ahead of Stark and a leg ahead of Quill. Then it was over. She straightened up and trotted over to Steve, who stood gaping at the stopwatch.
"What did I get?" she asked, interested.
"11.9 seconds..!" he whispered.
"Pardon?" she blinked, stunned. Steve repeated the time.
"11.9! You got 11.9!" He said a bit louder. Peggy laughed, and took the timer from his hands and looked at the digital numbers. When Dooley came to them, however, he didn't believe Steve.
"Rogers! You can't lie on a test! Just because you have a crush doesn't mean you can contort the numbers." Dooley wrote her down for 12.9 seconds. Peggy was still smiling, saying to 'screw Dooley.' Steve blushed, because that seemed to be his signature thing, and Peggy's face was plastered with the vibrant red smile, because that seemed to be her signature thing.
/
AU
Yeah, crappy ending, whatever. I had NO idea how to end it, honestly I probably could have dragged it on. I'm afraid this chapter was a bit boring though… eh. I should probably warn you: I tend to have long authors notes not always related to the story and sometimes in half thoughts that aren't really related and might not make sense. Sorry in advance. I wanted to get this done and posted before Agent Carter tonight (which I'm SUPER PUMPED ABOUT BECAUSE HOLY FSHF KLZCNZIDERWS). For the record, Agent Carter is on in four hours so I am meeting my goal.
Just for some clarification as well: (story time in other words) I was in an all boys soccer team when I was younger, so Peggy being in an all boys gym class= totally probable. Also, in case you didn't know, T'Challa is the Black Panther, the super awesome king of Waconda (he currently doesn't have a movie but I think MARVEL is going to make one). Waconda manufactures vibranium, which is what Cap's shield is made of. Stark is not Howard, but Tony. I called him Stark the entire chapter because his first name was never actually called, so Peggy didn't know his name. Peter Quill is Star-Lord from Guardians of the Galaxy.
Reviews are awesome, as always. ILY - Aslin