Charlotte's playlist (a Steve Harrington x OC fanfic)

001. One Way or Another -Blondie

"Charlotte!" I groan at the sound of my mothers' voice. I shove the pillow over my face but moments later my door swings open and it's pulled off me.

"Get up. You have school." I sigh and sit up.

"Fine mom. I'm getting up. Please go." She shakes her head at me and leaves. I get up and trudge around my room. I got dressed and ready. I pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. I pulled my curly hair into a ponytail using a scrunchie and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a little frizzy, but I looked okay. I ran out the door with my bag and grabbed my bike. I rode to school most days. I didn't live far, and it didn't take long. I hopped off my bike as I arrived at school and pulled out some gum from my pocket. I put it in my mouth and walked into school I was known as the loner. I didn't have many friends and I could be a bit mean at first. I found it easier to not make friends than make friends and have them abandon you. I blew a bubble with my gum and got to my locker. I pulled my Walkman and headphones from my bag and started listening to whatever tape was in it. I just wanted to drown out the sounds of people. I closed my locker door and started walking to my class. I felt someone hit my shoulder. Carol snickered as she and her boyfriend, Tommy pushed past me. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. I could feel eyes on me, so I turned. Steve Harrington was looking at me. I scowled at him. He was popular and friends with Carol and Tommy. He didn't usually involve himself in most of the bullying the couple did but he never stopped them. I walked into English class and sat at my usual seat in the back.

I was your average loner. I liked English classes but most others I hated. I read poetry a lot. It was easier to read than full books. I found myself unable to focus after a while. I didn't mind reading in class though. I preferred the short bursts. I was glad the English teacher wanted to read our books as a class. I opened the class book. The Great Gatsby. I flipped through the pages to my bookmark. It was a ripped piece of paper. The teacher read at the front as I followed intently. This was the one class I enjoyed and actually paid attention to. Most classes I found myself staring out a window or drawing in my notebook. Every desk I had claimed at the back of each classroom I was in had at least one little drawing on it. Some had little flowers, others had cartoon ghosts. I wasn't great at art or anything, but it kept my hands moving. My English desk was the only one untouched by my pen. It had the usual graffiti that every school desk had. Penises and random initials. I'd heard a girl say something about drawing vaginas everywhere as a feminist movement. I thought it was funny and would be a great idea, but I didn't want to initiate a conversation, so I didn't tell her I thought so. I did however draw a vagina in the girl's locker rooms later that day. I wanted to sneak into the boys' bathrooms and draw some, but the wafting urine smell every time I walked past as someone left or entered put me off.

English class ended and I spent the rest of the day mostly unfocused and listening to music. Lunch was spent in the corner of the library reading comics because I could focus more on the images than a page of words. The librarian knew I liked poetry and short stories and would always tell me if they got in anything new. The rest of the day went by like any other. Dull and completely forgetful. I rode home, completely in my thoughts. Almost forgetting what awaited when I got home.