Call of Duty Oneshots

Nervous (Requested Logan)

"Look! She has glasses now?"

To the obnoxious shout of one of your favorite people, you ducked your head lower. Your hair draped halfway in front of your face to hide the black-framed glasses and your arms clutched onto your backpack straps even tighter. From experience with the asshole group, you hustled into the bathroom until class would start.

In front of one of the mirrors now, you examined your face. Light make up covered most of it--you didn't always go super heavy on cosmetics--and your glasses highlighted the color of your eyes. Everything about your features made you shy about yourself and others, especially when assholes like the one outside the bathroom made comments. Just earlier your parents had told you the glasses looked amazing...now you weren't quite as convinced.

Narrowing your eyes, you slipped the glasses off your head. You carefully tucked them up and slipped them in a case in your backpack. Your fingers wove through your hair as the bell rang; your class was further down the hall.

With a deep breath, you exited the bathroom and headed for class. Rarely were you late and being so now would likely make your calculus teacher make a scene. You hoped to god that wouldn't be the case.

Upon reaching the room, you snuck in to your seat in the back. The teacher's back was turned, luckily, and you set up your things within seconds of sitting to make it look like you'd been there the whole time.

"Okay, I want all of you to find the solutions to these problems for a warm up."

You squinted your eyes at the board, trying to make out the equations she'd written down. In a panic of not working like the others, you scribbled down random numbers on your paper. You hoped the numbers in the first equation included a six.

"Weren't you wearing glasses earlier?" someone whispered.

You leaned slightly away from the kid who sat next to you. He was usually rather quiet, often hanging out with the asshole group who picked on you. His older brother had graduated last year, a complete opposite. His name was Logan if you remembered correctly and you were pretty sure your subconscious had a crush on him.

"Y-Yes," you spoke nervously, the stammer a habit of yours.

"Can you even see the board?" his whisper was making you more nervous.

"Yes."

"With the person next to you, please compare answers. Once finished of course," the teacher piped.

Logan shifted his notebook to the edge of his desk, peering over at your scrambled writing. His eyebrows drew together, making your nervousness tick in your stomach. You felt like throwing up.

"Are you sure you can see the board?"

"P-Positive," you swallowed.

"Y/N, you don't even have the right numbers written down for the equation."

Your heart literally throttled your throat and then froze. He knew your name? Socially, you were nervous and considered a slight bit nerdy and it led to few friends...plus all the asshole attention. It wasn't common anyone remembered your name besides teachers or staff members.

"What?" Logan questioned your wide eyes.

"N-Nothing."