Kings Queens and Freaks

Part One: Chapter One

Chapter 1

*Hawkins High, September 1983*

     It was my first day at Hawkins High. I saw him as soon as I walked through the school's front door. His hands were stuffed in the front of his jean pockets, the lower part of his back and one sole of his foot leaned up against a set of lockers. He was bent over, just slightly laughing at something one of his friends had said. Everything for a moment seemed to slow down, and my entire surroundings had become one big blur. He was still chuckling and smiling, when he fully leaned back up against the lockers, running his fingers through his hair. His name was Steve Harrington.

I knew of the legendary Harrington from back when I was in middle school. I mean, few people didn't know about him. I remembered girls gossiping in the halls, telling stories about how their older sisters had gone on dates with him and how much of a charmer he always was. Every girl's dream was to go out with him, and it was every guy's dream to be like him. I knew I shouldn't, but I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around what made this guy so special. Perhaps it was the way his hair flipped up, never seeming to be out of place, or how his tight-fitted Levis were hugging him in all the right places. I hadn't noticed how long I'd been staring, and when my thoughts came back to reality; his gaze followed me as I walked in front of his friend group. Quickly, I averted my eyes to look down the hallway, hunching my back, and trying to make myself seem as small as possible. He was not smiling anymore, and he now had his head resting up against the lockers, eyes fully fixated on me, and jawline looking as though it could cut glass. Pushing my way through the crowd of students, I could still sense that he was looking at me. Watching as I made my way toward the school's front office.

After receiving my class schedule, I dreaded going back out into the hallway. Steve was a senior after all and I was a freshman. What if he hadn't liked the way I was looking at him? What if he was waiting for me, ready to pounce like a lion on his unsuspecting prey? Unfortunately, I had little choice: as the first bell rang and students started rushing to their classes. Hesitantly, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the unknown.

As the day went on, I began to quickly realize just how different high school was from middle school. The noise levels are high, the teachers' standards are high, and I'm positive some of the students were even high! The only break I had from the madness was sitting through a very long and boring "Welcome to Grade 10" assembly. And honestly, all I can really remember from it was Principal Higgins saying something like, "These will be some of the best years of your life!" and more bullshit like that. When the assembly had finally ended, it was our lunch hour. And needless to say, I was glad. I really needed to find out where my locker was. I highly don't recommend carrying around all your school supplies and new textbooks for the first half of the day. But, due to a curtain well-groomed boy this morning. I hadn't had enough time to get myself organized nor did I take into account of how much of a maze Hawkins High would be. Not to mention it also took me nearly twenty minutes to find my homeroom; let's just say geography isn't my best subject. As I make my way to nearly the opposite end of the school, I'm struggling to carry everything. The halls are once again overloaded with teens, all talking about how each other's summer vacations were and how excited they are for the upcoming school year. There are constant sounds of people slamming lockers, and people yelling across the hall. At times I almost had to plug my nose because the area reeked of sweat and cheap perfume. I thought to myself, was this supposed to be a school or a freaking zoo!? Finally, after what seemed like forever. The halls began to have fewer and fewer people and I'd reached my destination. Locker number B317.

Looking around I could tell that this was the quieter end of the school, but I also knew most students were already in the cafeteria by now, eating their lunches. I noticed the entrance to the art room and another door leading to AP Mathematics. I sighed with somewhat relief. Most art students were pretty pleasant and AP kids were always too busy with their heads buried in books to talk to you or even care who you were. Then my eyes landed on a large double steel door, the paint was peeling off from years of students pushing it open. Above was a sign with large green letters reading Pool Entrance and my heart instantly sank. "Great," I say to myself sarcastically, rolled my eyes. That's all I need, to have a bunch of rich preppy kids that can't play any actual sports, but want to be considered jocks so they decide to join the swim team. This is going to make for a very long year. Sighing deeply, I turn to face my unopened locker. Trying my best to balance the heavy textbooks in my arms while looking down at the lock combination in my hand, I struggle to open the locker. It wouldn't budge. I try another time, then two more, but nothing. I groan, throwing my head back and kicking the metal door. This was my last nerve, and I dramatically throw my books to the ground, jiggling the lock up and down in frustration.

"Gurrrrrrr! Come on you piece of shit!" I growl under my breath, too busy to have noticed that someone had walked up behind me.

"Hey, take it easy Freshman. Would you like some help with that?" I hear someone laughing from behind me. Slightly startled I spin around quickly to see non other than Steve Harrington standing in front of me, he has a duffle bag in his right hand and a towel swung over his left shoulder. I freeze, unsure of what to do. Shit. The king of the jungles back for his meal.

"Oh hi," I could feel my cheeks instantly flush with embarrassment. "Uhm, be my guest." I say shyly. Moving to the side I place my hands out, gesturing to the still-locked lock. Steve smirks, putting his bag down and starts to fiddle with it. Hesitantly I try handing him the piece of paper with the combination, but he shakes his head, waving his other hand to indicate that he did not need it. I frown slightly, in confusion.

"Don't need it. I had the same locker when I was, a freshman. Was constantly struggling to open the stupid thing myself," he said with a slight laugh. "You see, the trick is to lean into the locker before pulling down on the lock" Steve did as he described and the locker opened with ease. "And voila!" He says turning to me and flashing his iconic Harrington smile.

"Uhm thanks," I say quietly while bending down to pick up my textbooks off the floor. Steve immediately joins me; and I'm shocked. "Oh, you don't have to..." I begin to say but stop when our hands brush one another as we reached for the same textbook. I look up and mine and Steve's eyes instantly meet.

At this moment I could not help but notice how cute he was. How his smile is perfectly white and perfectly straight, how his cheeks puff up just enough giving him a youthful glow, and his eyes, though they may look brown from afar, have a hint of green in them. I think to myself, "wow, this man is absolutely gorgeous." It seems like hours pass by before I once again have caught myself staring at the boy for a tad too long. Quickly standing up, I shake my head and clear my throat. I can already feel my cheeks getting flush with redness and I am just praying that Steve has not noticed. Before Steve stands back up I dip my head to the ground, ever so slightly sliding my one foot back and forth against the white floor tiles. I nervously fold one arm across my body and hold onto my other arm's elbow.

"Hey, anytime," Steve says reaching out, lightly touching my upper arm.

As I lift my head from the floor, I can finally see how close Steve was standing in front of me. He gives me a small but kind smirk and let's go of my arm. I'm sad but also a bit relived when he backs up, leaning over to grab his duffle bag and adjusting the towel that was still on his shoulder. We share another moment, looking into one another's eyes and I cannot help but feel butterflies in my stomach. I wonder to myself if he was like this with all the other freshman girls. Because there was no way that a guy as popular as Steve was being this nice to just me. Steve continues to look at me and seems as though he's about to say something. And for a split second I thought maybe I was wrong, maybe a guy like Steve would want to talk to a girl like me.

BRINNNNG the school bell suddenly rings, making Steve step back further and I nearly jump right out of my skin. And just like that, the once quiet hallway, is quickly flooding with students. I start turning around to place the last few textbooks into my locker, when I faintly hear Steve's voice over the fast-growing rumble of other kids' conversations and laughter.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington" he says reaching out his hand. I turn back around, taking his hand and he gives mine a firm shake.

"I'm Stephanie, Stephanie Henderson," I say, still slightly shaking from the loud lunch bell and the overload of my interaction with Steve. Still holding my hand, Steve continues.

"Well Steph, looks like I'll be seeing you a lot this semester. Having my locker here was partly the reason why I had decided to join the swim team in the first place. And of course, seeing a bunch of hot babes in swimsuits." As Steve says this, I can see him scanning his eyes up and down my body, it was almost too fast for me to notice. "Hey, who knows maybe you would consider joining?" he asks and gives me a wink with a final shake of his hand.

"Something to consider I guess." I say, tilting my head to the side, and giggling.

"Oh, and you'll probably be needing this." Steve hands me another one of my textbooks. Looking down, I smile and nod my head thanks. It was geography.