Rebel, Rebel - Jim Hopper x Reader

i. Under the Bleachers

The crowd roared loudly as you lost yourself in your thoughts, continuing to smack your blue and white pom poms together habitually. Your ears began to ring as you looked past the field of hulking teenagers in football uniforms running into each other. It was the second Friday of September, the very first football game of the season for Hawkins High School. While you would much rather be at home watching the latest episode of The Twilight Zone, you were forced to fulfill your duties here as the co-captain of the Tigerettes.

You rolled your eyes as the routine wrapped itself up, the concept of being here causing frustration to course through your veins. While you had been on the cheerleading team since freshman year, you couldn't deny that your willingness to participate had drastically decreased now that you were a senior. If you were being completely honest with yourself, the only reason that you were still here was for the scholarship you were hoping to snag at Indiana State.

You huffed out an annoyed breath when you heard a familiar whistle blow, indicating that the Tigers fumbled yet another ball. With one quarter left in the game, you were pretty certain that you would be cheering for the losing team tonight, which didn't come as a shock given the team's track record. The Hawkins High Tigers were probably the worst team in the state, and you would be willing to bet any amount of money that they would continue to lose as the season progressed.

Despite the fact that the football team was an embarrassment state-wide, they still reigned as the leaders of the food chain within the tiny walls of Hawkins High. Your relationship with Larry, the quarterback, made you a part of one of the most powerful couples in school. Though you weren't exactly in love with Larry, you knew that being with him was what was best for your social life. You enjoyed the security blanket that your status gave you, which is why you put up with cheering every week for a team that would always lose.

"Oi!" screeched your counterpart, Chrissy. "You need to get your head out of your ass and focus."

You looked over at her with narrowed eyes, a stare that could probably cut glass if you tried hard enough, and crossed your arms defiantly, "Why does it matter? I'm doing the routine, aren't I, Carpenter?"

Your co-captain rolled her eyes, her hands resting on her hips, "You're setting a poor example for the underclassmen."

You scoffed before mirroring her body language with a cynical glare, "We are forty points down in the last quarter of the game. Give. It. A. Rest."

"If you have a problem, you can leave early and leave me in charge," she seethed, tightening her bottle-blonde hair, which rested in a high ponytail at the crown of her head.

No matter how much you hated cheering, you hated the idea of leaving Queen Bitch Supreme in charge even more. You sighed, throwing your poms down at her feet, "Just give me like five minutes, okay? I'll pull it together."

"Fine," she sighed, kicking your poms to the side as she pushed you out of the way.

Chrissy Carpenter was probably the most annoying person you had the displeasure of meeting. If there was ever a stereotypical definition of a bitchy cheerleader, Chrissy would meet the bill tenfold. She came from a relatively rich family at the end of the cul de sac, and she was about as perfect as cookie-cutter robots came. It made your skin boil.

You walked in between the two sets of bleachers to cool yourself off, dragging your white sneakers along the dirt as you attempted to regain your sanity. You only had one more year left of this, and it didn't do you any good constantly complaining about it. It's not like you would ever have the gall to quit, especially not after the three years you spent committed to the team.