Little Wing - Bucky Barnes x OC

Arrivals and Forbearance

June 1973

Roseworth, Oregon

Dove sat staring at the clock. Big eyes straining to stay open. Tears pooling on her water line from how long she hadn't blinked.

Waiting for that goddamn minute hand to strike twelve. Only fifteen more seconds and her days could be spent how she wanted— free of this hellhole of a high school until the day she died.

She bounced her knee, chewing on the end of her pencil. Her entire body filled with anticipation. Practically having to force her breath with how tight her chest felt. Desperate to hear the shrill ring that would set her free from the oppressive walls of Roseworth High.

The room was stuffy, smelling like paper and rubber erasers. Sunlight beamed in from the huge wall of windows, heat seeping through the glass making it feel that much more stuffy. It was silent apart from the soft scraping of pencils, the occasional sound of a page flipping, or a cough.

A handful of straggler students were scrawling out last minute answers on their finals, rushing to finish before class was over. Dove had been finished for twenty minutes then. Although, she wished she had taken her time. It would've been nice to have something to occupy her mind rather than playing the staring game with the clock.

As the minute hand, ticked into place, she immediately shot up from her desk. Elation bloomed in her chest at the sound of the bell releasing her from her binds. She hadn't even realized until then that she had been holding her breath. She swung her backpack over her arm. Nearly slamming through the slow moving crowds of classmates she never wanted to see again.

When she made it out into the hall, it was filled with students cheering and chucking papers into the air. She rolled her eyes, shoving past anyone that got in her way. Sending half-hearted smiles to the many people that were chucking peace signs to her or hollering her name in farewell.

Dove saw Wanda standing in front of her locker, shoving her backpack full of loose items leftover from the year. She skipped over, resting her hand on the wall beside her, smiling down at the red head. "What's up, buttercup?"

After slamming her locker shut, Wanda tugged the zipper of her bag closed and pulled it over her shoulders. "Hey, how was your last final?"

"Fine, I guess." Dove shrugged. "I'm just so glad I never have to see that fascist Mr. Osborn again."

"Or learn about electrodynamics and magnetism," Wanda added, turning to walk backwards while they made their way down the hall.

Dove let out a laugh, combing her fingers through her unbrushed mane of platinum hair. "But it's so useful, Wands. We use that kind of information every day," she said sarcastically, faking a pout.

"Right. How could I forget? It's our favorite pastime," Wanda replied, playing along, making Dove laugh.

The two of them had been best friends since the sixth grade. Wanda was one of the very few people in town that hadn't been born there. That was what initially drew Dove to her, she always thought. Wanda was different. Having grown up in Los Angeles and raised by free-spirited parents, she actually had interesting things to say.

She had insanely long, red hair and always wore some kind of floral print or fringe. The pinnacle of the hippie stereotype— although she hated being described as one. She had a progressive mindset and even sold pot to make some cash on the side of a few random jobs she held throughout high school. Like a breath of fucking fresh air to Dove.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of a roaring chant slowly starting to build from down the hall. Students swarmed together as the shouting grew louder and louder. Growing into a booming crescendo of voices. As Dove stood on the tips of her toes, she could barely make out someone about to get pummeled by a few meatheads and instantly knew who it was.