Work Text:
Robin’s running late.
Her tire popped on the ride over, so not only is she late, she’ll have to get her tire fixed after school.
The November wind blusters past her as she opens the doors and hurries past the office. She checks her watch and —shit, two minutes past first period. As long as she makes it before —Robin runs into a solid person, her books spill to the floor, and so does Harrington’s stupid bagel sandwich. “Sorry,” she squeaks.
Harrington’s already down on the floor, her books in one hand, his ruined breakfast in the other. “No problem. Maybe just watch where you’re going next time.”
And Robin can’t tell if he’s being sincere or not because his face is wrecked and that’s all she can focus on. He’s got two black eyes and a cut over his cheekbones.
“Hey!” Steve waves his hand in front of her. “We should probably go inside. To class.”
Robin snatches her books from him. “Thanks.” Steve holds the door open. Robin ducks through and doesn’t miss the glare Clickety Clackity gives her. She slouches in her seat, opens her American History from 1865 textbook, and puts the morning behind her.