Hi guys! It's Jesse. To be honest, I have never written a story like this so I apologize if I mess up and things sound weird. I have no beta either so if you see a mistake, please inform me! I've already written a few chapters but if wanted, I can update once a week, more if people really like it! This is just the first chapter so enjoy and leave a review; tell me what you like or don't like and such aha. I just started writing this one day and so far, it's really fun!
It takes place at the beginning of season 1 where Jesse doesn't exist shh. Not me Jesse, Sam's Jesse aha. Sam had just gotten accepted into Stanford whilst "you" have been a student for a year already. He's a freshie, you're a sophomore, w00t w00t lets get this story on a roll! P.S. "You" act a lot like I would aha. Cause that's the only perspective I've really got right now :P please enjoy :)
"Party, this weekend, honestly, (Y/N) just come!" Your friend pleaded, taking hold of your hands. He was a nice guy, knew how to bat those pretty gray eyes and had a nice head of brunette hair. His hand was tight on yours and his thumb was running circles on the soft skin there on the back of it. You gave a tight squeeze but took your hand back, shaking your head softly. He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip like a child though he was your senior.
"I really can't, Derek. I got this huge exam Monday. Which you do too, mister!" You give a small peal of laughter which mingles nicely inside the luxurious lounge room of Stanford. Students were buzzing around like bees in a hive, some taking advantage of the coffee machine and the (not supposed to be there) microwave on the counter. Many looked half haggard from sleep deprivation and far too much studying. Some students were cuddled up on the couches, others studying with a highlighter in their mouth and two more in their hands.
It was a nice air of studiousness that you actually quite loved. Everyone here wanted to be here, unlike in high school. Oh, yeah, high school. Gosh you were glad you got out of there. You only left about a year ago, but it still held some pretty shitty memories.
There's that half smile on Dereks lips again and you see him give up with trying to ask you out...for the third time that month. It always happens with boys. Sure they flock to you like birds around a bread crust but the moment they realize that you just weren't into dating, they trickled away. Didn't stop a new batch from coming in every few weeks though, even if their friends warned them of the cold hearted princess and your tendency to not ever leave the dorm.
"Alright, alright, but if you change your mind-"
"I know, Perkinsons place, eight sharp. Got it, Derek." He smiled fully, all teeth and charm and waved goodbye as he got up. His pace was leisurely as he walked away and you sigh. You didn't get it. He was smart, good looking, a decent man and yet nothing. Not a butterfly fluttering in your stomach or trickle of blood rising to your cheeks to make you blush so prettily as they all tell you. Inwardly, you groan and sigh, leaning your head on the chair or so you thought. The groan had already escaped your lips before you could stop it, and quite loudly too.
"You alright?" You look up to find another man looming over you, one arm holding a stack of thick books which you recognized as the fundamentals of law and the other holding a glass water bottle, sweating with condensation as it was gripped in his hands. He wore gym clothes, probably just came from that facility and you could see how fit he was. God, he was cute, too; that kind adorable baby brother cute that you knew would turn into a hunk of a man once he hit 21.
"Uh, yeah. Kind of." You say, sitting back up, laughing nervously. He chuckles and takes a seat where Derek was just a few moments ago. He didn't sit too close, far actually but you could still smell some sort of earthy cologne and you even lifted a few inches in your own seat as his weight distributed on the worn couch. You introduce yourself with a polite smile and wonder if he's going to be just like the past few guys since you've gotten to college.
"I'm Samuel Winchester." He says, holding his hand out. You shake it firmly, finding his fingers and knuckles calloused, littered with small little scars. He must of have been a country boy or something, you think.
"Samuel Winchester." You test his name out on your tongue and he smiles, skin crinkling around his, what? Green eyes? Blue eyes? No, green, most definitely. The prettiest dark olive green irises you've ever seen with hazel ringing the pupil and blue on the edges. Something out of a book or TV show, you swore, but nope he was right there, live and in the flesh. "And your name...?"
"Oh, sorry!" You laugh again, hiding your awkwardness. You introduce yourself as he settles his things down onto the coffee table in front of you both, giving you a shy smile.
"Sorry if this was weird." He says meekly, running a hand through his brown sandy hair. It looked so soft, you almost wanted to reach up and ruffle it but thought better. "It's just, I'm a late student. Just got accepted." You nod understandingly; thats why you haven't seen him around.
"No, it's no big deal." You smile graciously and decide to leave out that you get approached by random guys far too often then you would like. "Need a tour of the place?" You offer, cocking your head to the right. He must have been a bit lonely; attending a cold college like Stanford, you don't make friends the way you would at a public school.
"Oh, that would be great." He beams at you and you can't help but smile back. What a big sweetheart, in the literal sense too. How tall was he? 6"2, 6"3? Sam ruffles through his pocket and pulls out a pen and then jots down a few numbers on a piece of parchment from one of his notebooks. "Uh, this is my number. Sorry, the area code is a bit bizarre." Your fingers brush as he hands you the slip of paper and you flip it open briefly. The area code definitely wasn't from around here, and he had written his name in big capital swerving letters.
"So, where are you from, Samuel?" You ask.
"Sam, if that's alright." He suggests. With a deep breath he settles into the couch, denting the cushions even more than before. "All over, really. My family liked to travel and move around a lot."
"I've been here all my life." You say, a bit dejected. "Wanted to get away, even if for a bit, but I guess i'll be stuck here."
"It's not too bad, right? I mean, Stanfords always been my dream school." He looks around, an amazed look in his eyes like he couldn't believe that he was even there. It was so cute, he looked like an excited puppy just brought home.
"Not gonna lie, it's pretty great. You're studying law?" He nods, picking up one of his books and flips through it.
"What about you, (Y/N)?" Sam inquires. He turns his eyes on you, bright and interested and did you...just forget to breathe? For a bit? God, his eyes were beautiful.
"Neuroscience." You manage to inform him. "I want to cut peoples brains open." You joke, giving a laugh. Something flashes through his eyes though, something you didn't see in regular people. Was that fear, uncomfortableness? Instantly you felt guilty, as if you hurt him or something. You open your mouth to apologize when your phone starts to buzz inside your purse, blaring the sounds some techno tune you had chosen from the list of otherwise monochromatic sounds. You fish it out and find the name and face of your roommate on the screen of the iPhone.
"Amy?" You say, picking it up.
"Girl, I swear if you are not back in ten minutes in our room, I'm gonna go kill a bitch!" You raise your eyebrows and Sam follows in suit, a smirk playing on his lips. Did he hear that? Oh gosh.
"Sorry, my roommates, um, well, crazy." You laugh and could almost see Amys pretty face glaring at the phone. "I'll be right there, Amy."
"You better, sweetheart!" The phone clicks, informing you that she had hung up and you shake your head.
"She's insane, but I adore her." You say.
"Wish I could say the same about my roommate." Sam jokes, wincing. "I don't think he realizes that mayo in my toothpaste isn't as hilarious as he thought it was." Laughter spills from your lips; you always laugh at everything and anything. Sam seems to like it because he smiles at you sweetly.
"I'll call you later." You say, waving the paper in the air for emphasis as you stand. "And I will show you all the best hideout spots for when you want to skip class." This time he laughs, free and light hearted. He licks his lips after he does and you see his eyes flicker up and down your body. Usually you'd be so self conscious, sometimes a little afraid if the boy that was doing it was more wolfish, but with Sam you felt flattered.
"Look forward to it, (Y/N)." He says standing up too. Sam towers over you, almost a whole foot taller and you frown.
"Can I ever meet a guy that's not so much taller than me?" You rhetorically ask.
"You're petite. It's cute." His little compliment makes you smile, quite broadly actually but you reel it in. Keep cool, keep cool.
"Hitting on me, Winchester?" You tease, looking up at him through your lashes.
"Depends, is it working?" You laugh but nod because it most definitely is.
"I'll see you later, Sam." You tell him as you walk past. He smiles, biting his lip and nods.
"Yeah, hopefully." As you leave to appease your roommates desires, you feel a foolish grin find its way onto your lips. You haven't felt like this in a while, and to be honest, it was quite nice.
When you arrive at your dorm room, the door was slightly ajar. Warily you push it open and walk in to find Amy fidgeting with her computer on her bed. You say her name and she looks up, dark brown eyes wide and afraid. She says your name and hops off the mattress, big beautiful locks bouncing with her body moments, latching onto your arm as she drags you over. You barely had time to shut the door behind you with an audible slam.
"What is it, Amy?" You ask. She sits you down on the bed and plops her P.C onto your lap. With a perfectly manicured finger she points at the screen, firetruck red nail vivid against her tan skin.
"There's a facebook page called Stanford Sluts, (Y/N)!" Amy says. You brush a lock of your hair back as you gaze at the screen and suddenly, there it is, your face. A candid picture of you was bright and bold on the computer with a big capitalized caption underneath.
"(Y/N), the most secretive slut there is or a prude Mary Jane." You read out loud from the website. You laugh loudly and shake your head, shutting the laptop. "Oh, Amy, I don't even care."
"Are you sure, babycakes?" Amy sits down, extremely serious in front of you and takes your hands. "I can get my daddies and my brothers and my cousins to the city real quick to find who did this. Hell, I may be a country bumpkin but I know how to whoop white girl ass, (Y/N), I sure do!"
"You don't even know if the person who is running this is white." I point out.
"I just know us white folks can be kinda crazy sometimes, and you've never seen black girls as petty as this in our old high school." You laugh her words, knowing that she was just playing around. You've known Amy since childhood, her family running the farm that your hippie household got all its organic vegetables was just the way she was.
"I'm gonna be fine. Plus, you pulled me out of a conversation with a nice boy, tsk, tsk." Amelia snorts and rolls her eyes.
"Is it that Derek child? I'm telling you, i've seen him at the salon and he gets his brows waxed more than I do." With laughter you shake your head.
"No, his name is Samuel Winchester. Heard of him?" Her brows raise and a smile tugs on her lips. Gossip girl Amy knew anyone that was anyone, and if there was a new student she didn't know about? Oh, well she'll know more about him than he probably does himself soon enough.
"The new law boy? Mmm, girl, you always pick the smart ones don't you?"
"You know about him? Tell me, tell me, please, Amy, please!" You weave your fingers through hers and bat your eyes, knowing that your best friend couldn't resist. Never had in the past 18 years of your life of being friends.
"Well, he's definitely new. Got real high SAT scores. Family is MIA, no one really knows, but isn't that hot? And you've got mystery boy all over your tail." You snort and shake your head.
"Not really, he just wants a tour." You inform Amy, kicking off your shoes. You curl up on her bed, or your bed, you're not sure. You two shared everything from clothes to books.
"A tour? Honey please, he'd been on three school tours already." Amy smiled deviously and reaches out to pat your bottom. "He wants more than a tour from you."
whoaa? yeah, that's it aha. kinda weird, kinda new, working out kinks and stuff. but leave a comment and tell me if you enjoyed reading!