My Little Spark - Romanogers Oneshots

Fight

Age: 14

---⧗---

I walked down the corridor of my high school, my bag hanging loosely in my right hand. The halls weren't too busy at lunch. I went to my locker and opened it, before shoving the bag in and slamming the door. Behind it was the boy I hated most. Jensen. He was a Junior (16) and I was in my Freshman year.

"Sup pretty-face," he drawled as I glared at him.

"What is your problem?" I asked, sighing.

"Just enjoy irritating you I guess," he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, using my shoulder to shove him away.

"For a Romanoff, not much of a fighter are you?" he called with a laugh.

I ignored him, until he called, "Looks like your mom isn't half as good as she makes out, is she?"

I stopped and felt my anger burning in me. I didn't care if he insulted me, but insulting my mom? No way in hell. Turning, my emerald green stare pierced into his brown eyes.

"What?" I demanded.

"I said, your mom raised some piece of shit. Just like her I guess," Jensen sneered.

Struggling to keep my anger bottled up, I went up to him until I was right in his face. He looked down at me with a laugh. I felt his breath on my face, which I hated, but I didn't back away.

"Insult me again," I challenged with gritted teeth.

Jensen smirked.

"Stupid. Little. Freak."

He spat each word separately, with menace dripping off each word. I clenched my fist and punched his face hard enough he was knocked back into the locker. Jensen laughed, balancing himself, readying for a fight.

"Come on then, fight me, bet you won't, will you?" Jensen challenged, trying to make himself look stronger.

Feeling rage speeding through my veins, I grabbed his collar and shoved him against the locker, punching him repeatedly in his face. Jensen fought back - of course - and his size and strength gained him an advantage. I yelled as he punched my stomach hard, causing me to gag. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed my hair and threw me against the lockers. The impact made me lose balance for a second and I stumbled to keep my balance. He threw me to the ground and kicked my chest. I dragged myself away and stood up, pain in my stomach and side.

"Weak freak!" Jensen jeered, holding his fists to his face as if he was boxing.

Idiot. I rolled my eyes before pummelling my smaller body into his, sending him backwards. By now, people had crowded around and were chanting, "Fight, fight, fight!"

Adrenaline rushed through me and I put everything into my punches, managing to successfully dodge some of his hits. I was weakening him. I could tell. Suddenly, I was jolted backwards and I flailed my arms, not realising it was a teacher until I turned.

"Anastasia Romanoff-Rogers!" the teacher yelled, holding me back until I gave up trying.

I glared past her at Jensen who was getting to his feet.

"Principal's office, now!"

I sighed and stormed off, anger still boiling in me. I hated Jensen. I hated this stupid school. I hated everything!

---⧗---

I waited in the principal's office for my mom - dreading it. I knew she'd be really mad at me. Soon enough, she came through the door, casting a furious glance at me. I avoided eye contact as best as I could.

"Anastasia, would you mind leaving us for a minute?" the principal asked.

I felt the colour drain from my face as I left the room. My mom and the principal definitely weren't saying nice things. Eventually, my mom came out of the office, snapping at me, "Car, now."

She walked off so quickly I almost had to run after her. When we reached the car, I tried to slink into the back seat, but my mom said harshly, "Get in the front Anastasia."

Oh shit. I really had fucked up to be told to sit in the front. I put my schoolbag in the footwell and sat awkwardly whilst my mom drove. She didn't once look at me - we were just in an awkward silence. After about five minutes, she broke it by bursting out, "Why would you go around fighting people?!"

I bit my lip and looked down at my lap.

"Anastasia Belova Romanoff-Rogers, you are in so much trouble when we get home," she hissed.

I flinched slightly. I'd never seen mom this angry with me. I knew she had a lot of stress at work which was probably part of it, but I knew I'd also let her down. I couldn't help hating myself for this. I just wanted to change what had happened. Have a better control on my temper. But Jensen had been trying to get me to fight him since I started, just because he was jealous I was Black Widow's daughter. When we got back, I followed my mom inside and to the living room, where for a few moments, she paced furiously.

"Mom, I-" I tried to start a conversation, but she cut me off.

"Do you realise that you're suspended?" she began. "Just because you wanted to get in a fight with some kid for no real reason?"

"It wasn't no reason!" I protested.

"No, Anastasia! I don't want to hear excuses!"

I looked at the floor as my mom stood in front of me.

"Look at me!" she ordered.

I couldn't. She grabbed my chin and made me look at her. Her green eyes were glistening dangerously. I hid my terror. I wasn't scared of her - not my mom - I was scared of her explosive anger.

"I told you that if you misbehave like this again that you're going to be in some big trouble! You know I don't lie!"

"Last time you did," I muttered, barely audible.

However, stupid me. She heard me. Grabbing my wrist, she pulled me up to my bedroom and pushed me onto the bed, before yelling some more. I hated this. Myself. Jensen. If he hadn't had been so goddamn annoying I wouldn't have attacked him. My mom stopped to take a breath after about 10 minutes of yelling.

"He kept insulting you," I whispered, barely holding myself together.

Mom's face changed suddenly and she looked at me questioningly.

"I hated it. I couldn't stand to watch him just insulting you because he wanted me to fight him," I continued.

"Oh..."

I looked at my hands and waited to see if she'd yell again. But instead, mom came over to me and sat on my bed.

"You shouldn't have done what he wanted," she told me.

"I know, but he's just so irritating," I replied.

"I'm sorry for shouting," she apologised hugging me.

"I'm sorry for fighting him," I apologised.

"Don't be daughter, anger is passion. I see your passion. If anything, I should be thanking you for sticking up for us both," mom laughed.

I smiled slightly. Maybe it wasn't too bad after all?