Well, this one wasn't planned. I have a few stories going on already but this idea just… refused to leave my head.
I'll see if I continue it. It depends on your reaction, I guess. If you guys are interested, I'll keep it up.

All you need to know is in the description and in the first chapter. No Jancy. Jonathan/OC, Steve/Nancy (what's the ship name for them?). I'll write for the kids too, if I keep it up, because they're beyond awesome. Oh, one more thing: English isn't my first language so there might be a mistake here and there but I do my best! :)

So, welcome to the world of Tina Harrington. Let me know if you think I should keep it up! This could be good guys. This could be really good. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! :)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

7:30.

Crap.

Crap!

I don't even open my eyes all the way before I throw on some jeans; I grab the first T-shirt I can find. It's too big for me, so I roll it up a bit on the side.

That's it. I don't have time for details.

I charge into the bathroom, splashing my face within seconds. I use one hand to brush my teeth and the other one to put a bit of blush. Spit out, wash the brush, some mascara and the most important final touch; I lean over the bathtub, throwing my hair around; I spray and… nothing.

I try again but the bottle all but screams.

"Crap! STEVE!" I yell. Of course, nothing. "I'll kill you, you little shit!" I yell from the top of my lungs.

"Language!" I hear mom yell from the hallway. Well, if she heard me, so did my brother. Cursing, I pull my hair up in a ponytail, all dull and flat. Still cursing under my breath, I throw on a jean jacket and grab my backpack before walking downstairs to the kitchen. I smack Steve right on the head.

"Hey!"

"That's the second time this month that you've used all my hairspray, jackass!"

"Tina, language!" mom snaps at me again.

"Buy your own next time," I tell him, not surprised when he just rolls my eyes. I ignore the empty plate that was waiting for me, just as I do every other morning. Coffee is the only thing I need right now. I lean on the counter as I take a big gulp of it; it's already cooled off, just the way I like it. I notice that my mom is dressed in one of her nice dresses. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I have a business trip today in Indianapolis," dad tells me in between two bites of his sunny side up eggs. "We will be back by tomorrow afternoon."

"I have to do some shopping," mom sighs, as if that's the worst obligations she could have. Steve and I make eye contact as I take another gulp of coffee; empty house can only mean one thing. "Tina, can you make dinner for the two of you today?" she asks me.

"Sure, I have a day off today," I shrug, already knowing that we will definitely order pizza and that tomorrow I'll be back to the hell that is the farmer's market. That's what I get for being an older kid and for wanting my own car; I have to most of the price myself. "We won't starve."

"We'll be late, we'd better get going." Steve announces as he stands up.

"See you tomorrow,' I mumble as I give mom a kiss before walking over to dad to do the same. Not saying anything else, Steve and I walk out of the house. I throw my backpack onto the back seat before taking my place on the passenger seat. "Party tonight?" I ask him as he starts the car.

"Hell yeah," he chuckles. "It's still warm. I'm thinking a pool party is a good way to celebrate the first week of school being over."

"Yeah, pretend like we don't have months of torture before us?" I roll my eyes. "Jesus Steve, could you ever change the freakin' cassette? I'm gonna start hating Olivia Newton John because of you," I mumble as I rummage through glove compartment, looking for another cassette as my brother teases me by singing along to "Physical". Finally, I find one with my name scribbled on it and I quickly change it. I smile as the first riff of 'Edge of seventeen' starts playing. That's more my jam.

"I'll buy the beer, you get the house ready."

"Please tell me you're not gonna invite Tommy and Carol."

"They're my friends."

"Steve, come on, you know I don't like them," I whine. I don't have a problem with most of Steve's friends but it just so happens that the ones I have a problem with are the ones he is closest too. Tommy is a dick and Carol is just stupid. "If you invite him, the party will suck for me. I know we have our moments but do you really want to make me that miserable?" I ask. Playing on my brother's compassion isn't a smart move, not all the time. But sometimes… it kind of is.

"If I don't invite them, I'm gonna have to explain it."

"Fine, then invite someone else as well," I sigh, knowing that it would be pretty weird if he doesn't invite two of his best friends. "Someone normal. Please. And keep the number under 10 because I don't wanna know what will happen if they find out we had a party while they were away."

"Since when are you the responsible one?" Steve laughs.

"Since you killed my mood with leaving me without my hairspray," I complain again, earning another eye roll. "Look, one of us needs to think. This time, it's me. Keep the number low and for the love of good, do not leave me with those two dickheads alone."

"You can invite someone too, you know?" he laughs. "We can keep it under 10 and you'll have someone to talk about."

"Steve, you're my big brother," I roll my eyes. "You know very well that the people who want to hang out with me because I'm Steve Harrington's baby sister are not the people I like hanging out with."

"That translates into 'I don't have friends', right?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

I mean, I talk to people. Being Steve's sister, it's kind of hard not to. But there's no one I am close with. The only real friend I have is Steve, and I don't even talk to him as much as I once used to.

I'm too weird to be a popular kid and too normal to be considered a loser. And I'm a fucking Harrington.

"Invite someone, anyone," Steve tells me. "Ignore Tommy and Carol and just try to have fun."

"Just give me beer and I'll survive." I sigh as I roll down the window; I light a cigarette and stick my hand out the window. We sit in silence, listening to Stevie Nicks as she kills it, like she always does.

I don't get a kick out of school like my brother does. I just… spend my time here, I guess. But his face always lights up whenever he parks the car and steps outside, fitting the role that high school had given him. He feeds on this. Too each their own, I guess.

"Don't be late after class, alright?" he asks me the moment we get out of the car. "I won't wait for you."

"Maybe you should go and buy me that hairspray and come back to get me?" I suggest.

"I'm not waiting for you again, Tina!" He yells after me.

"Yes, you are!" I yell back as I walk away, not turning around to face him. If I am late, he will wait for me, despite his threats. He always does.

I got my first camera when I was 14. Dad gave it to me; it was his way for making up for the fact that he had missed another one of my birthdays. Third one in a row, if memory serves me well. He was never forgiven for that, nor will he ever be, but the camera I got because of his guilt was pretty sweet.

I was 15 when I bought a better one and just a few months ago, I bought the one I'm using now. I don't have a part time job for the fun of it. I want things and I don't want to depend on Daddy in order to get them. This time around, I'm saving for a car. I'm tired of having Steve play my cab driver.

I don't like many things, if I'm being honest. I don't like people in general. I don't like working, nor do I like studying. I don't like Brussels sprouts and I hate pudding. I can't stand Sylvester Stallone.

I do like photography. I like watching movies and I can never get enough of music. I like painting, sculpting and reading. Anything remotely related to art, I'm interested in it. And history too.

I guess that's why I don't really have a good friend; it tends to happen when you don't like people in general. Twice a week, after classes are done, I make Steve wait for me as I develop the photographs in the basement of Hawkins High. The dark room is the only part of school that I actually like.

It's my place too; no one ever comes here. If they knew what kind of privacy they could have here, I imagine the dark room would soon become a hot new make out spot for high school sweethearts. Luckily for me, they have no idea. Which means I can listen to music and work on my photographs in peace. I can even risk it, and light an occasional cigarette.

It's one of those days. I dance around to Bowie's 'Let's dance' that is blasting through the stereo, a cigarette between my teeth when I suddenly notice that I'm not alone.

"Jesus!" I gasp in surprise, picking up the cigarette that fell out of my mouth. Jonathan Byers is standing at the door, looking equally as shocked as I did. "Did you ever hear of knocking?" I snap, still unnerved with his entrance. I couldn't hear him and he scared the shit out of me, especially in this lighting.

"I'm sorry, I, I, I," he stammers. "I didn't think anyone would be here."

Well, that's obvious by the way he marched in here, scaring the shit out of me.

"Knock next time, alright? I'm here every other day; I don't wanna die all young and pretty." I mumble, finally able to breathe properly. The little dance party I was having is officially over now. I don't say anything as I watch him as he finally relaxes, working around his camera.

I don't think I've ever really talked to him before. He's a quiet guy. We have a few classes together but we never worked on a project together, never sat next to each other. It could be a shame; he seems to be interested in photography as well. He is here, after all. And they do say that friends have things in common. I sure as hell have more in common with him than I do with Tommy; I don't even need to speak with him to know that.

But I can't just start a conversation like that. It's too awkward; you can't come up to someone and just say 'hey, I want to be your friend'. And he might be a bit too weird.

I work in silence and so does he, but my mojo has already been killed. I couldn't actually act like myself when I am no longer alone. At least the music is still good.

"But there's just one thing," I sing along with Annie Lennox, under my breath. "Just one thing."

"You like 'Eurythmics'?"

I wasn't expecting to talk to him, and I definitely wasn't expecting him to be the one who starts the conversation. He's even more awkward than I am.

"Annie is the queen."

"Yeah, she is," he chuckles. Holy hell, he can laugh too? "She's like the female version of Bowie."

"You're right," I mumble; I couldn't have said it better myself. "You like Bowie?"

"Who doesn't like Bowie?" he laughs.

"My Dad, for one," I laugh in response. "He's too old school to accept Ziggy Stardust."

I start taking my photos of the string, seeing as they are dry enough; I look over his photos that are still in liquid. He has a good eye, I'll give him that.

"Is that your brother?" I ask, pointing at a photo of a laughing boy, aged 10 or something like that.

"Yeah," he nods his head. "He doesn't really like being photographed, though."

"Well, that makes him a natural model," I shrug; the boy seems genuinely happy in the photo. "When they pose, the photo just loses its magic. If you catch them off guard, it's golden. Take it from me; my brother was born posing." I mumble, even laughing when he chuckles at my comment. Oh, why the hell not? I'm young and crazy only once, aren't I? "What are you doing later today?" I blurt out.

"Uh… working?" he is confused by my question. I can't really blame him.

"All day long or is your shift over at some point?" I ask.

"Uh… I'm done with work around seven," he mumbles. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because there's going to be a party at my place tonight," I tell him as I tuck the photos in my backpack. "My parents are out of town, so why the hell not? Nothing big, just a couple of people. You should come over." I tell him. Steve had said it himself. Invite someone, anyone. I'm doing just that. The moment I invite him, I can see the surprise on his face. Surprise, followed by hesitation.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" I ask. Sure, it's a bit weird but why the hell not.

"Your brother?" he offers. Of course it's all about Steve.

"Do you don't get along with him or have you never actually talked to him?" I wonder.

"I've never actually talked to him but I'm pretty sure-" he starts.

"Look, you don't have to come over if you don't one to," I chuckle as I put on my jacket. With a sigh, I throw the backpack over my shoulder. "I'm not gonna get insulted or something like that. You just… seemed like a more interesting person to talk to than most of those that will be there. But hey, if you bail on me, I'll hide away in my room, listen to some good music and have a few beers. And if you do decide to show up, you can join me." I shrug. Either way, I'll live. One option just might be a bit less boring than the other one. "It's your call, Byers."

And with that, I leave him. We'll see just how much explaining I'll Jonathan Byers does knock on our door today and Steve happens to be the one who opens it.

I'll figure something out. I always do.