Chapter Six
Steve

Why does school start so early in the morning? Why does the US school system think that people our age can function at six in the morning. No wonder every kid in movies has terrible grades; they're so exhausted and stressed out because they don't get enough sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open as we pull up to the school.

Livy and I step out of Tim the CIA agent's car and stare at our new school, watching all the other kids flood through the doors. I can sense that Livy is nervous, and even though I am too, I try to be the voice of confidence and tell her: "Don't be nervous. We're Barnes's, we can handle anything."

She sighs, shaking her head at me. "Here we aren't Barnes's, we're Bransons."

"We'll always be Barnes's." I tell her, not having to fake my confidence to say that. I'll always be proud to be a Barnes, it makes me feel strong, like I can accomplish anything. It's what will get me through the next few years of hell.

Livy squeezes my hand, taking in a deep breath. "Good luck, Stevie."

"You too, Livy." I say with a wink, letting go of her hand and walking into the building. She goes towards the ninth grade hall while I head down the sixth grade hall, according to the map she printed out for the both of us, all my classes are down this hall, she even circled them all for me so I wouldn't get lost.

My first class of the day is world history, then I have English/grammar, then gym, then physical science, then geometry, then my language class. I picked German. It will be an easy A.

I find my name on a small piece of paper on a desk in the front of the class, so I sit down in the chair behind it and drop my backpack at my feet. I notice a bunch of kids staring at me, I try not to pay attention. The bell rings, which only slightly startles me, and the teacher comes in and closes the door. She's a black woman in her thirties with bangs, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a Friday the 13th shirt. I like her already. When she speaks, she has a New York accent, like the ones I've seen in movies. I'm still bitter that Dad doesn't have a New York accent, he's apologized for not having one multiple times.

Her smile grows as she locks eyes onto me, saying: "We have a new student, who clearly has good taste. Why don't you stand up and introduce yourself?"

I'm wearing a Michael Myers t-shirt, my teacher is clearly a horror fan. I stand up and wave at the class, saying nonchalantly: "I'm Steve, I'm twelve, I'm from Nebraska, and I think that The Shining is the best horror movie ever made."

My teacher holds up her coffee mug is if to cheers my statement, replying: "Amen to that. If you like horror and violence Steve, I'm sure you'll like the unit we're on: HYDRA."

The teacher turns on the screen on the wall and starts going through a PowerPoint presentation. HYDRA has affected every part of the world, so it makes sense that we would cover it in a world history class. Here I thought this class would be boring, I know this stuff inside and out. Since it's a lesson about HYDRA, my teacher talks a lot about the different HYDRA agents, talking the most about Mom and Dad, probably the two most famous HYDRA agents.

"Those two make one hot couple." A girl whispers to her friend next to me.

The girl's friend nods, glancing at me once she realizes I'm listening to the conversation: "Are you fans of the Savage and the Winter Soldier?"

I nod. "They're my favorite Avengers. They're so cool and badass."

"Do you think the Savage is hot?" One of the girls asks.

Her friends sighs. "I know I do."

I shake my head very thoroughly. "I'm gay, so no." And she's my mother, but I don't add that part.

"So do you find the Winter Soldier attractive?"

It takes all my strength to keep a straight face and not show disgust. "Not my type."

The girls drop the conversation and I'm glad, but I'm positive this won't be the last time I have to listen to people lust after my parents. Back home people didn't talk about them like this, but that's probably because they knew we were there and that we could hear their conversations. They probably didn't want us to feel uncomfortable like I do right now.

The rest of class goes pretty smoothly, as do my other classes. English/grammar was easy, I've been assigned a book to read for class and our assignment is to analyze the old style grammar and write about how grammar rules have changed over time. The book is Little Women, Jo's favorite book. I think I'll give her this assignment, she'll love it. My last class before lunch is gym. I'm forced into a locker room and given a uniform to wear for class: it's a grey shirt with a dog on it, which is the school mascot, and a pair of light blue shorts. Back home for gym we are let outside to run around and have fun, but gym is clearly different here. The coaches force us outside and tell us to run ten laps around the track field and then pick between playing football or soccer. The coaches are strict and don't waste time to introduce me like the other teachers did. They just blow a whistle and tell us to run.

I try to keep in mind what Uncle Everett said about blending in, so as everyone begins running, I try to keep the same pace as the majority of the other kids, not going too fast or too slow. If I wanted to, I could run three times as fast as the other kids and finish those ten laps in under three minutes, but I can't. I have to play a part.

It's actually pretty tedious to run at this pace, I kinda hate it. I sense someone approaching me and I have to stop myself from turning towards them before they reach me. I have to act like I don't sense them. This really sucks.

The person taps me on the shoulder and matches their pace to mine. I turn to see a cute white brunette boy smiling at me. I completely forget about the boring run.

"You're Steve right? The new kid?"

I nod. "What's your name?"

"George Peterson, I'm a grade above you."

"How did you hear about me if we're not even in the same grade."

"Because everyone talks about the new kid, especially when they have such a fucked up history. So sorry about your parents, dude. Must suck."

Oh right, they're supposed to be dead. I try to act convincingly sad as I say softly: "Yeah it really sucks...but I have my aunt and my sister, so I'm doing alright."

"You got a sister?"

I nod. "She goes here too, she's a freshman."

George leans closer to me and elbows me in the side. "What's her deal? Is she single? Is she cute?"

I feel slightly disappointed that he's asking about Livy and not me, but I'm more annoyed that this guy that I just met would assume I would offer my sister to him like that. He's growing less cute by the second.

Besides, Livy would never accept any advances from him, or from anyone else. She clearly has feelings for Zy'aire, and vice versa. Neither one of them will admit it though, they're both living in denial. And even if she didn't secretly like Zy, she wouldn't go for a creep like this guy. In Wakanda we're all taught to be respectful and honorable to the people we have a romantic or platonic interest in. Clearly these attributes are lost on this guy.

I shake my head. "None of your business."

"Just getting a lay of the land."

I shake my head, picking up my pace a little more and leaving him behind, muttering to myself: "And I thought Norman Bates was a creeper."

Thankfully gym ends shortly after my tedious laps. Now it's off to lunch, or as Uncle Alex calls it: 'the place where you eat gross food and are subjected to the bullshit angst of your peers'. He's not wrong, the pizza smells terrible and the conversations I'm picking up around the room sound like they're from a gossip column. Once I get my tray and get away from the line, I pick up on Livy's scent, finding her sitting at a table with another girl. She seems to be enjoying the conversation, but I can sense that Livy is distressed about something. But that's not out of the ordinary, she's always distressed about something. I love my sister, but she's so wound tight it's ridiculous. She takes everything too seriously, she doesn't understand the concept of relaxation or fun.

"Is that a Michael Myers shirt?" I hear someone ask me from the table I'm currently passing by. I stop and turn to see a table filled with people wearing very geeky t-shirts. I see two Star Wars shirts, one Lord of the Rings shirt, one Star Trek sweatshirt, and a Conjuring t-shirt, I'm guessing he's the one who asked me about my own geeky shirt.

I nod to the Conjuring guy. "Yes it is. Hello fellow nerds, I'm Steve."

The Conjuring guy smiles up at me. "I'm Jake, the Star Trek sweatshirt is Winston, the Lord of the Rings shirt is Amara, the Darth Vader shirt is Elijah, and the Kylo Ren shirt is Cece. Beware, those two tend to argue about Star Wars a lot, so sit next to them at your own risk."

I feel a large grin grow on my face. It appears I've found my people. "I'm more than happy to hear some fandom fights. No one else in my family are into this stuff, except my mom, she loves-I mean she loved Harry Potter."

Jake gives me a sympathetic smile, scooting over to make room for me. Once I sit down, everyone gives me their condolences for my parent's passing. I try to act sad, but I'm not sure it's convincing. Instead I try to change the topic and direct it towards unpopular opinions in the geek culture, and my new friends are more than happy to oblige.

As I begin talking with these people, I glance over my shoulder and find Livy all by herself, the girl from earlier nowhere in sight. Livy catches my eye and gives me a small smile, but she isn't fooling me. Something clearly happened today. She was so excited this morning and now she looks like she was just informed that her dog was hit by a bus. I reach up and grip onto the golden paw necklace around my neck, the one that holds a suit like Mom's. She and I both tend to grab it whenever we're upset or scared, and I do it now to tell her that I'm here for her, and that everything will be okay. She does the same, giving me a nod.

Whatever is bothering her I hope it gets better soon. She doesn't deserve to walk around everywhere like the weight of the world is on her shoulders, she deserves to be happy. I heard her and Dad talking last night and he asked her to look out for me while we adjust to this new life, but it's apparent that I'm the one that will have to watch out for her.

I still miss home, but I think I'll enjoy being at a normal school and pretending to be Steve Branson. I haven't changed my mind about what I want for my life, I want to be a hero like my parents, because who would want to do anything else? I want to fight crime and kick some ass. It's the best job in the world. I want kids to learn about me in history class like I did today with my family. But until I get to that point, living this life will be fun. I'm really enjoying talking to people who don't know who I am and think of me as some average American teenager. I think I could get used to this. I just hope Livy can too.