Soaring Misty Skies

Misty Skies, commonly known as Misty, walked down the hallways of Las Pegasus Middle School, home of the first Wonderbolt, like, EVER. Grinning, and with a slight hop in her step, she slid up next to her best friend, Spitfire, and leaned against her locker. Studying her motions, putting books away and grabbing her bag, and asked casually, “Hey Spark, got any idea what you’re doing?” She raised an eyebrow as the flame-headed looker glanced at her with a sizzling grin that probably made guys fall all over themselves. Not that Misty cared. Much.  With a orange-eyed look in the general direction of the jock group, Spitfire spoke in her general, smoky voice, “Whatcha mean Misty? I was just getting my books for my next class.~” Rolling her eyes, Misty crossed her arms and waited until Spitfire sighed, smirking over at her in part annoyance, part admiration. Misty read her like a book, always. “What? A girl can’t skip class for a day?” Biting back a smile, Misty stood firm. “Oh, a day, is it? You’ve only skipped every Wednesday for the past month. What’s up? Oh, is it a boy?” Smile finally coming through at Spitfire’s blush, Misty squealed adorably, making several people turn and look at them as her yellow wings sprung out in excitement and she hopped in place. “Oh! It is so a boy! You should really see your face, your blush is so cute it’s almost-“ quickly cut off by a hand belonging to the now-nervous redhead, Misty stopped, smiling sheepishly as the hand was removed from her face. “Sorry Spark…you just, never really…show any interest in guys, that way, so I assumed you weren’t interested that way.” Soon after saying this, Misty’s own face turn a bright shade of pink as Spitfire laughed, holding her stomach as Misty fiddled with her icy-blue hair, bright aquamarine eyes looking anywhere but at her. Grinning largely, the burnt-orange eyed teen put a hand on her shoulder, speaking quietly but laughter lacing her voice, “Lesbo, huh? Well, I keep my options open, but anyway. Yeah, it’s a guy, but yah can’t tell anyone, alright? I’m trying to lay low for awhile, since this guy’s a bit quiet. I’ll introduce you two later, but, right now, I gotta go.” Looking around, the flame-headed girl grinned and walked away, soon disappearing in the crowd. Watching her go, Misty spoke a bit too quietly, “Alright…I’ll see you later, Spark…” Still spellbound, Misty stood in place awhile before taking a small step forward, and immediately getting pulled into the swarm. Letting out a small yelp, the petite teen tried to maneuver her way free, but instead rammed right into a rock-hard chest. Letting her books drop in surprise with a small gasp, Misty didn’t have time to see the person she just slammed into, mumbling an apology, she bent down and began gathering the papers, the crowd suddenly dispersing around her. With a small sigh, she reached for her library book on the art of spins and tricks of flying, and instead met a larger, clearly male hand. Frowning, she looked up, straight up into the deepest green eyes she’d ever seen, and blinked. With a grin, the jock commonly called Soarin, said in a voice she knew she shouldn’t like, “Uh, here’s your book. Misty, right?” Blinking again, she worked her mouth, but nothing came out. Darnit, what was wrong with her? He stood, and held out his hand to her when she didn’t speak. Pausing a moment, she grasped it and he pulled her up, and she nearly gasped again at the speed of it. “Oh, yeah…my name’s Misty. Yours is…Soarin?” Raising an eyebrow, clearly amused, the blue-haired jock nodded, and held out his hand again. It took her about five seconds to realize that he didn’t want to hold her hand, but was holding out her book. Blushing embarrassedly, she awkwardly took it and held it to her stomach protectively. With another grin, he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by one of his buddies, one with spiky dark grey hair and shades, who said in a joking manner, “C’mon Soarin! We’re gunna be late for track practice. Let’s go!” Blinking stupidly, Misty kept looking at him, until he finally tore his gaze from hers and yelled back, “Alright, alright, I’m coming goofball. Well, it was nice bumping into yah Misty.” She blushed again, looking down slightly when he gave her another charming grin, she spoke softly, “Yeah, um…sorry about that. Nice to…meet you too?” Trying for a smile, she was sure she came off looking like beauty pageant contestant with too much gunk on her teeth.

He simply gave her a grin, and then walked off to his buddies, her gaze following him the entire way. Letting out a small sigh as the butterflies in her stomach vanished, if only slightly, she glanced at her watch and eeped, making a quick dash for her classroom, a certain green-eyed gaze following her similiarly to her own a second earlier.

Shaking her head, Misty cleared thoughts from the memory, frowning. She stretched her arms over her head with a slight grunt, her icy-flame hair up in a ponytail as her wings fluttered lightly, buttery-yellow color glinting gently in the sunlight as she folded them in again, bending over and getting into the running position, aware of everybody’s eyes on her and the competition. Sucking in a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, clenching her hands, and unclenching them again. Blue eyes forward, she narrowed them and felt the silence ensue, on edge as she waited for the whistle. Leaning forward slightly, tense, she waited, the quiet almost suffocating her. Opening her wings slightly at the click from the whistle, right before it would scream, she grinned.

“PHEEEEEEETT!!”

Bolting from her stance, Misty flew straight out into the cool, clear air. Grin growing, she placed her hands before her in the diving position, and streaked ahead of the other school’s competitors. Wanting to shout in jubilation, she simply let the wind push against her as she flew back down, then flipped around and through the cloud hoops set up in the course. Spinning around a column designed for such, she whipped around obstacles, narrowly avoiding the small hurdles. She then flipped smoothly upward and her grin faded slightly, replaced by a confident smirk, carefully hiding the nervous, awkward girl she was way back when. With an inward sigh, she pushed those thoughts aside, pumping her wings faster and in smaller strokes as she continued upward, soon feeling the air start to thin. She then proceeded to close her wings in, and turned facing downward, soon spinning into a torpedo spiral, whipping past some straggling fliers still going upward. She smiled, sucking in a breath, waiting as the tension grew, seeing the audience hold their breath as she neared the ground, when she finally opened her wings, catching the air and then zooming for the finish, smile growing as she neared it, hearing the stands pound and scream in excitement, she dipped down lower, and then caught herself in a smooth stop, finally realizing her own short breaths, and the sweat dripping down her sides and face. Noticing the flame-headed striker sprinting for her, Misty grinned, opening her arms and hopping up into the arms of her best friend ever.

“I…I did it!” Spitfire smiled back, hugging what air she’d managed to gather, right back out of her with a laugh. “You sure did! Hey, now we are so going to celebrate this!” Nodding absently, Misty’s eyes grew slightly distant and her friend frowned, waving a hand in her face. Nothing. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw why with a grin, putting an arm around her shoulder and pushing her in the direction of a certain blue-haired stud who had won second place, just after Misty. Soon realizing their direction, Misty gasped and desperately tried to plant her feet into place on the cloud grounds of the coliseum, grimacing and shaking her head. “Spark! You know I can’t talk to him, especially not right, when I just…”- Cutting off, suddenly right in front of him, she tried to smile. He glanced over, and, recognizing them, Soarin gave an easy grin. “Hey guys. Nice race back there, by the way, Misty.” Turning his marvelous green eyes toward her, Misty felt herself blush. Spitfire rolled her eyes when Misty said nothing, and knocked her in the back of the head slightly, making the speedster sputter a moment.

“Oh, thanks Soarin. You did pretty good too.” Getting her usual confidence back, if only slightly, Misty smiled at him. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head with a sigh, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Thanks. Although, I could never compete with you. You fly way faster, which reminds me…you coming to the Wonderbolts show this Saturday? Everyone’s going.” Blue eyes widening, Misty grinned and nodded quickly, wings soon fluttering as if they’d never been racing, nearly lifting her off the ground. “Of course! I’ve never missed a show, and I don’t plan to start now. Anyway, I assume you’re going, too?” Nodding, he smiled back, nearly missing the gag Spitfire gave at his next words, which he returned with a glare. “Well, I was…wondering if you…wanted to, maybe, sit with me?” His usual confidence wavering for a moment, his smile weak as he looked at her. Blinking a moment, Misty nodded, and then her smile grew to epic proportions, almost hurting her face. “I’d love to!” Gaining his smile back, he nodded, looking slightly relieved as he walked off to join his friends, who he said something to, in which they all cheered loudly, (Maybe a bit too loudly, in her opinion. But, whatever.) and they all grinned, shuffling him off to the showers.

With the grin still on her face, Misty turned around and squealed, soon hugging the living crud out of poor Spitfire, who was laughing.