August 1990. Castiel Novak stepped out of his old, worn down truck and stepped into the parking lot of his new school in Lawrence, Kansas. It was the first day of junior year and Castiel already hated it. No, it wasn't the having to study for tests or finish homework at eleven o'clock at night that he hated. It was being the new kid. It was not knowing where any of your classes are, or not having anyone to sit with at lunch. But it's not like that last part bothered Cas. He would probably borrow a book from the library and read it there. Castiel always preferred solitude; being with people just took much energy.
After a few minutes of carefully studying the map and his schedule, Cas found his way to Mr. Singer's class. He claimed a seat at the back of the room, while the people poured in. Castiel tried to get a good look at everyone's face because these were his classmates and he's most likely going to be with a lot of these people in his other classes. As Mr. Singer scribbled something on the chalkboard, Cas looked around the room. Motivational posters were all around the room, along with a few reminders on proper sentence structure. English was one of Castiel's favorite subjects, and he did write a few stories here and there. But it wasn't like he would show anyone. They were far too personal.
Mr. Singer finished writing and turned to the class. He introduced himself and then asked everyone to look at the syllabus placed on the desk. As Mr. Singer explained the books they were going to read in the year, Cas couldn't help but focus in on his thick southern drawl. It was unlike most of the accents he had heard around here. Castiel wondered where he was from.
Then, out of nowhere, came a loud smacking sound one of the desks. Mr. Singer had slammed a ruler on a sleeping student's desk. Dean Winchester, who was the one who had been taking a nap, sat back up a slouched in his seat. He yawned, ran his fingers down his hair, and then directed his attention towards the front of the room. "Now", Mr. Singer concluded, "are there any questions?" Without raising his hand Dean shouted, "Yeah, when can I get out of this hellhole?" Dean looked around the room feeling very proud. "You can get out when you complete this class, Mr. Winchester. And seeing that you're a senior in a junior class, I would say that you're not getting out anytime soon". Mr. Singer sat down at his desk and stared at Dean. Dean put his head down and kept his mouth shut the rest of class.
Castiel made his way to the rest of his classes easily, with the help of his map. Dean was in a couple of his classes, along with a few other people he recognized. Cas had the last lunch of the day and after chemistry, he stopped by the library and picked up a novel. When he entered the cafeteria, he looked for a table with no people sitting at it. He scanned the room and found an empty table in the corner and Cas figured that was as good as it was going to get so he placed his book and brown paper bag on the table. He began reading and munching on a ham sandwich. That's when the football team made their way right to where Cas was sitting. Adam Milligan, the head tackler stared right at Castiel. "Well look here boys, it seems like bookworm over here is too busy reading to notice that he's sitting at our table". This took Castiel by surprise as he looked up from his book. "Oh I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you sat here and the table was empty and I'll be on my way now- oh God that was dumb! I'm just so sorry". He kept tripping over his tongue as he collected his lunch. "First day with your mouth, boy?" Adam teased. As Castiel walked away he saw Dean standing there, looking at Castiel as if the whole thing was Dean's own fault.