2. groovy tunes

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"Bye, Mrs Wheeler!" Ringo waved as she stepped out of the car along with Nancy, the older woman huffing in response.

"I told you to call me Karen!" She called, but her shout was cut off by the slamming shut of the car door.

Ringo gripped the straps of her backpack tightly to prevent her hands from shaking, unable to stop the fact her stomach was in knots. Nancy was quick to pick up on her cousins reluctance.

"Don't worry, Ringo," she soothed, smiling warmly at her. "You'll be okay. You have me and Barb. And... Jonathan, by the looks of last night."

Ringo's eyebrows furrowed at her tone towards the end, but deciding to ignore it, trudged onwards towards the entrance.

Almost like a scene from a movie, the second she stepped in, all eyes had turned their way. It wasn't as if Ringo considered herself something to be stopped and stared at, but the fact was - Hawkins was a small town. Anyone new was bound to attract attention.

"Do you need me to show you to your locker or anything?" Nancy offered kindly, her body half turned towards the right hand hallway.

"No it's fine, you go ahead," Ringo urged, waving goodbye at her and walking on to find her locker by herself. She actually did need her help, but she could tell Nancy was antsy to be somewhere and didn't want to be a bother.

After walking around aimlessly for about ten minutes, she finally located her locker, sighing in relief. Shuffling through the pocket of her leather jacket, she uncovered the small piece of paper with the code that would hopefully unlock the lock.

Unfortunately for her, it didn't budge after she turned the knob in the correct sequence.

"Oh shit," she muttered, looking around and hoping no one saw her anxious state. Concentrating even harder, she entered it once more - but once again the lock refused to give way.

The last thing Ringo wanted to do was go to the office and complain about her locker.

"Here," a familiar voice resounded from behind her, startling her enough to cause her to jump. "I had this locker last year, you have to push the centre in afterwards."

Steve Harrington leaned around her and pressed the centre of the lock harsh enough for his thumb to turn white, but sure enough, the lock opened and she was able to get inside her locker.

"Um, thanks," she stammered, confused by his random act of kindness. In truth, Steve was one of the main reasons she was so backward about having to go to school today. From what she heard, he seemed to be a rather popular figure head here - if he tainted everyone's view of her so early in her time there, it would make things quite difficult.

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