That's My Best Friend [Billy Hargrove]

Blue Jeans (one)

"Senior year", you muttered while looking yourself in the mirror.

"Senior year".

You had lived your entire life in Hawkins, the most insignificant state in America. It was neither bad nor good, just plain.

Growing up here had been fine. Your family was basically perfect, so you had grown up with both a mom and dad. And like in any other perfect family, you also had an annoying older brother. You never needed money, and your grades were fine.

The only thing that wasn't fine, was you. You hung out with the wrong people on purpose.

"Y/n hurry up, we're gonna be late!" your brother, Steve Harrington, shouted from downstairs.

"Slow your roll! I'll be downstairs soon" you shouted through the door and huffed in annoyance.

You looked at your reflection once more before heading downstairs making sure you looked decent. Your brown curly hair was up in a ponytail, and on your lips was applied peach-colored lipstick. You smiled content with yourself.

Steve jerked open the car door looking irritated.

"If we're late, it's on you"!

You rolled your eyes at him, and when he took notice, he started rambling angrily like someone who had gotten their balls in a twist.

Steve was older than you by about 5 minutes, and he let it get to his head. He fully believed it made him better than you, and he often treated you like a child who didn't understand simple things. That was, of course, not the case, and deep down you both knew who the childish one really was.

Despite his behavior, you loved Steve nevertheless, even if you never told him. He was your twin, and your constant bickering and nagging each other made you feel less lonely.

Your family was basically perfect, except for the fact that your parents were never home. That was your family's "faulty".

When you and Steve pulled into the parking lot, it was already packed with people and the atmosphere was ever lively. You shut the car door and stood out on the uneven pavement. 

"Senior year", Steve exclaimed excitedly, the exact same words you had muttered with dread earlier. You chuckled at how differently the two of you took the fact that it was your last year in high school.

"Yeah, senior year", you replied and swung your backpack over your shoulder.

"Last one at the entrance is on cooking duty until next week", you then hollered and immediately began running towards the school entrance, leaving Steve in the dust. 

"Hey, that's not fair play", Steve cried out frustratedly and quickly ran after you. Steve was fast but to his loss, your head-start benefitted you. You pushed your way through the human crowd, and about 30 seconds later you reached the entrance doors. Steve followed up 5 seconds later, completely out of breath.

"Loser", you panted mockingly while gasping for air. Steve was bending forward, seeking support from his legs. He looked up at you, and scowled.

"You didn't play fair", he stated, and you patted his back sympathetically. 

"Tough luck. You're on cooking duty, King". 

King was the high school's nickname for Steve. King of Hawkins high, to be more precise. It was typical high school hierarchy, and it made people act like morons just to earn "popular points". Steve had earned the nickname by hanging out with Tommy H and his gang. Total douches, but they were childhood friends.