Castiel hated high school. It was junior year, and it seemed like all he'd been able to do was let his family down. Everyone in town knew the Novak family: his Dad was a world-famous diplomat who expected nothing less than perfection from his children. And, boy, did his siblings achieve. Michael, Uriel and Anna had all graduated top of their class, student body president, with full-ride scholarships to prestigious universities to boot. Heck, even Gabriel managed it; despite his tendency to goof off, he had quite the charisma. Everyone expected Cas to gain the same excellence, but he just couldn't get himself to fit the typical Novak mold.
"I swear, something's been wrong with you since you were a kid," his sister Naomi, a senior, said as she drove to school one morning. Naomi wasn't as bright as her siblings, but she made up for it through painstakingly hard work.
Cas ignored her, rummaging through all the heavy textbooks in his bag until he found it: battered, torn, but still perfect. His sketchbook. While his siblings pursued notable fields such as law, business and medicine, Cas had always felt himself drawn to art. The feel of his charcoal pencil across a fresh sheet of paper was intoxicating. As Naomi drove, Cas gazed out the window, searching for some form of inspiration.
They lived outside of the small town, so the drive was fairly long. Most things were painfully familiar: Mr. Robert's barn, the gnarled tree that had apparently been struck by lightning, the dingy old motel...as they passed it, Cas noticed something unusual.
Two boys, one looking to be about his age, holding books. The older one was helping the younger one adjust a backpack. It looked like they were going to school...but there was no car. "Pull over for a sec, Naomi." Cas said, intrigued.
Naomi groaned, but pulled over none-the-less. Cas rolled down his window. "Hey! You guys want a ride to school?"
The older boy looked up, shifting to stand protectively in front of the other kid. Their clothes were worn, and slightly too big. "Nah, we're good. Isn't that right, Sammy?" he added, glancing down.
"It's over a mile to get to school," Cas insisted.
The kid, Sammy, tugged on the older boy's sleeve. "Dean, I don't wanna walk that far."
For a moment, Dean stood there silently, mulling over the possible options in his head. He watched Sam quietly, finally shifting his eyes up to meet Cas's. "Fine. We'll take a ride."
Cas grinned and leaned over the seat to open the back door. "Come on in! I'm Castiel."
"Weird name," Dean muttered as he slid into the back seat. Cas watched with interest as he helped Sam get himself situated. Maybe, just maybe, Cas thought to himself, I might actually be able to make a friend this year.