One Shots and Imagines

Hairspray - Steve Harrington [1]

This takes place during season 2, after the closing of the gate.
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[Monday, November 12th, 1984]
Y/N's P.O.V -

I hate Monday's.  Especially when I'm woken up at seven a.m by my bitchy stepmother, who gives zero shits about me or my father.

"Wake up, if you're late you'll be walking to school." She yelled from downstairs.

I sat up from my comfortable position in bed, squinting as the sun streamed through my window.

It took me fifteen minutes to get dressed, simply because I couldn't find my favorite pair of jeans.

By seven thirty my hair was curled, my mascara was on, and my scrunchie was around my wrist.

I raced down the stairs, slinging my backpack over my shoulders.

"You've got five minutes." My stepmom said as I ran into the kitchen.

I popped a piece of bread into the toaster, then walked to the front door to get my shoes on. By the time I had laced up my shoes my toast popped up and my stepmom was putting on her coat.

I sprinted into the kitchen to grab my toast, spread butter onto it, then ran out after my stepmom, who was already in her car waiting for me.

When I finally arrived at school, Nancy Wheeler was waiting at my locker.

"Morning Nancy." I greeted, opening my locker.

"Morning Y/N." She replied.

The two of us chatted until the bell rang for first period, then we separated.

—
It felt like forever before last period finally arrived. I quickly stopped by my locker before walking into my English class.

My seat was empty, placed between Steve Harrington and Tommy H.

Steve sat silently during the duration of the class, the same couldn't be said for Tommy, who was rambling on about random shit the entire class.

When the final bell rang, Steve seemed frustrated, he closed his notebook and shoved it into his backpack. I caught up to him in the hallway, watching as he shoved his books into his locker.

"Steve, hey." I said, stepping next to his locker.

"Oh, hey Y/N." He said, closing his locker.

"What's up, you seemed a bit agitated in class." I said.

"Just, I don't know, I'm not doing great in a couple of my classes, and my dad is on my ass about getting my grades up. But no matter how hard I work, nothing changes." He explained.

I contemplated for a moment, then had an idea.

"Grab all of your books." I said tapping on his locker.

"What? Why?" He asked.

"I'm going to help you get better grades." I said.

"You're going to tutor me?" He asked.

"Yes, so grab your books and cancel any plans you had." I replied.