Homework (Stony highschool AU)

Chapter Fourteen

Steve

"Wait, we're totally changing up the plays?" I ask to the coach who has a marker in hand for drawing X's and O's on the whiteboard.

"Yes, Rogers. We've been using the same stuff for too long, they know our weaknesses."

"Yeah, sure, but we've been winning? So what does it matter?" I ask in a tone filled with attitude.

"Rogers, if you sass off to me you're going to earn this whole team 200 pushups right here right now."

"Coach! We know the plays we've been using all year like the back of our hands, but if you give us these plays the day of a game we're going to mess the whole thing up."

"That's it Rogers! Everyone, 200 pushups right now!" He yells, slamming the marker down.

Several groans erupt from my team around me as they drop down onto the floor in this crowded locker room.

"Coach, we're not even-"

"Now, Rogers!"

I grind my teeth as I drop down to the floor with my teammates. I feel what seems to be a shoe rest on top of my back as I pump my arms up and down.

"Rogers, let me get this straight! You are not the coach of this team. I am. I know better than you, do you understand?"

I let out a few loud huffs, refusing to answer. He presses his foot down even more on my back.

"Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," I say through my loud breathing.

•

I slam my pencil down on my book and pinch the bridge of my nose, "I can't focus on this shit! I have to study the plays for tonight's game."

Tony, Clint, Bruce, and I are all sitting around Clint's dining room table with our books sprawled out for homework. His parents are out of town for the week, so we have the place to ourselves.

Clint leans over and scans over my work, "This is easy, Steve. We're doing it in my math class too. Here, let me."

He takes my papers and pulls them over to his side of the table. 

"Really? Are you sure?" I ask. 

"Yeah, it won't take but ten minutes. These are fun to do." His hand immediately starts to scribble on the paper in delight.

"Wow, thanks Clint," I say as I grab my bag to get the notebook I put my plays in.

"No problem man."

I turn to the last play I wrote down and try to focus on it. I trace my hand around the lead on the paper, trying to decipher how to make this all work.

"This makes no since. The defense is pretty much doing nothing!" I say in frustration.

Tony, who is beside of me, slides his chair closer to mine to get a glance in my notebook.

"Well this looks simple. You see this little X right here is just going at an 80 degree angle, towards the field goal. This seems like the most simplistic thing, Steve. What's the problem?"

"Okay, first of all, that little X has a harder time getting to the field goal in real life. Not that simple. And secondly, that's the thing! It's too simple. They're going to see it coming from a mile away."

"Well it isn't complex at all to make some new plays. Bruce, come here."

Bruce stands from his spot across from Tony's seat. He too leans over the notebook.