Dean stared out the window. He didn't have time for this shit. He should be out with his Dad, learning how to hunt werewolves and wendigos, not stuck in this stuffy classroom listening to the teacher's useless dribble. He hated school. They always said he was 'below average' because he refused to work and flunked almost everything. It wasn't that he couldn't, he just didn't see the point. Out there, that was where his real lessons were taught. The hard knock world of hunting evil. That was the only school he needed. And there, he was a straight A student.