I slouched lazily in the hard blue plastic chair, scuffing my well-worn sneakers back and forth against the grit of the office floor. The office was unusually silent, save for the soft clicking of the clock on the far wall and the nervous tapping of the young secretary seated behind the large desk just across from me. I wondered, briefly, if she was new. I'd never seen her before and I had been a visitor of this particular office many, many times over the past few months. I shifted slightly in my seat – really it should have my name engraved on it somewhere – and wondered what happened to Mrs. Zimm, the elderly secretary who smelled of mothballs and peppermints. I liked her. This new secretary didn't like me one bit, I could tell by the way she would steal glances at me over the rim of her bright red glasses.

I glanced up at the clock and sighed heavily. I had been here for more than an hour now and, quite frankly, I was getting really tired of just sitting around. I jumped a little when the office door swung open to reveal Mr. Hill, my plump, balding, middle-aged principal. He looked tired as he led Sarah, who was holding an ice pack on her swollen eye, through the office with explicit instructions to go directly back to class. I made sure to glare at her as she walked past me, but if she noticed, she didn't let on. Mr. Hill frowned at me and turned to the young secretary.

"Any word on this one?" he asked, nodding his head in my direction. My eyes narrowed.

The woman clicked her computer mouse and looked up from the screen. "Mr. Winchester should be arriving shortly," she said, casting a quick glance in my direction. I froze, certain that I heard her wrong.

Mr. Hill gave quick nod and turned to go back into his office.

"Wait!" I called out sharply, straightening a little in my seat and leaning forward so that my hands were resting on my knees. "Why is my –" I paused and slapped my leg in exasperation. "Why isn't my mom coming?"

The secretary, whose name I still didn't know, seemed uncomfortable with my sudden outburst. "I tried her number but there was no answer."

"So then you try her again!" I practically yelled, jumping up from my seat. "That other number is for emergencies only! Everyone knows that!"

"I'm sorry," the nervous woman said, glancing at Mr. Hill, her eyes imploring him for help. "I didn't know."

"No harm done," he reassured. "Perhaps we'll get somewhere this time."

I opened my mouth to shout a few choice words at the idiot of a secretary when the sharp snap of Mr. Hill's plump fingers stopped me in my tracks.

"Alexis –"

"Lexie," I interrupted.

He acted like he didn't hear me. "It would be in your best interest to take your seat –"

"But –" I interrupted, again.

"And to keep your words to yourself."

I snapped my mouth shut and glared at the man. He crossed his arms in front of his massive gut and stared me right back down. After a long, tense minute I sighed and flumped back down in the crappy plastic chair like a ragdoll. Mr. Hill stared at me for a moment longer and then spoke in his usual firm tone. "Let me know when Mr. Winchester arrives." I know he was talking to his secretary even though his eyes were on me. She nodded, too entranced to respond. With a heavy sigh, Mr. Hill uncrossed his arms and stalked back to his office, closing the door with a firm click behind him.

I shot a quick glare at the women behind the desk, but she had already gone back to her work, seemingly forgetting that I was even there. I reached up and fiddled with the loose strands of hair that had long since fallen free from the lazy braid I had put in for phys ed. I sighed in frustration and stared up at the clock. Time practically crawled. Another hour passed and my stomach began twisting due, in part, to my missing lunch on account of the incident, and in part to the nervous anticipation that was eating away at me. They weren't supposed to call him. They weren't ever supposed to call him. Hell, my mother didn't even call him when he was on a job, which was just fine by me. Ugh.

I knew he was there before I saw him. The air around me suddenly changed; it now held the faint aroma of motor oil, smoke (not cigarette – more like a woodstove), and cinnamon. My blood pumped hard; the pounding in my ears was deafening. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I hadn't seen or heard from him in almost a year. A lot had changed since then. I had changed since then.

"Please, Mr. Winchester, have a seat; Mr. Hill will be with you momentarily."

I didn't see his reaction; I was too preoccupied with the hole I was slowly picking through my jeans. I didn't notice as he moved across the small space but I felt him brush up next to me as he took a seat in the empty chair to my left.

I didn't acknowledge him, although I could sense that he was watching me. It made me nervous and slightly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Winchester?" the secretary's soft voice called. I felt him shift a little next to me. "Mr. Hill will see you now."

I felt movement beside me and stole a quick glance as he walked past me but it wasn't until Mr. Hill had closed his office door behind them that I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding.