Being a Winchester was never the easiest thing. Especially with the way Sam's father was nowadays, losing hope in catching the thing that killed his mother and taking it out on him and Dean. Dean was Sam's brother, the best looking thing any small town they visited had ever seen. He was used to hiding under his brother's shadow, but sometimes things got a little too lonely. At first, high school was just another spanner in the works for them both, but Rushmore High was different.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he grabbed his brother's duvet and yanked it off him, exposing him to the cold, musky air of the motel. "Come on, kiddo. I know you didn't want to leave the last school, but we have to accept that nothing's permanent in this life. You should now that by now." With a groan, Sam reluctantly swung his legs over the side of the bed and hauled himself up.
"You can leave now, Dean," he said, glaring at his brother. Dean held his arms up in defence and backed out of the room, not before tossing a nonchalant "bitch" at his brother.
"Jerk," Sam murmured. He sighed as he ran a hand through his all-too-long bangs and walked into the one small bathroom the motel room had. Turning on the shower, Sam noticed the room had a set of scales in. Weird, he thought. Not paying any more attention to the scales, he stepped into the shower. Feeling the warm water run down his back was a relief, he could feel all of his muscles loosening up from the tension that sleeping on the crappy motel bed brought. After rubbing in the cheap shampoo and conditioner provided for them, he rinsed himself over once more and stepped back out of the shower and wrapped a towel round himself. Upon opening the door, Sam discovered a very angry-looking Dean. He let out an exaggerated huff and shoulder=barged his way past Sam.
"Jesus, little bro, what took you so long in there?" He asked, slamming the door shut behind him before Sam had a chance to come up with a witty retort. He rolled his eyes and headed back toward his and Dean's room to dry his hair off and put some clothes on. Going for the usual Winchester look, he pulled on some old blue jeans, boots, a white vest and a red plaid shirt which he kept unbuttoned – it was way too hot to bother doing it up. Ten minutes later him and Dean were both ready to leave for school. His brother grabbed the keys off the counter and headed for the front door, followed by Sam. While Dean made sure that the door was locked, Sam headed straight to the Impala – the only home he'd ever truly known. That was something he was jealous of his brother for, Dean knew what it was like to have a home, a loving family...Sam's thoughts were interrupted by Dean entering the car and slamming the door behind him.
"Hello? Earth to Sammy?"
"Don't call me Sammy. Sammy was a chubby twelve year old," he bit back with a tone cold as ice.
"All right, Sam." Dean replied, "Don't get your knickers in a twist. Anyway, you'll need to cut that attitude out if you want to make a good impression at Rushmore," he said as he pulled out of the motel parking lot.
The drive to school was somewhat tense, and Sam's mood worsened as they pulled into school. Hundreds of eyes turned towards the loud noise of the engine to see the sleek, black, classic American muscle car. Girls flipped their hair and tried to see if they could check out the driver, completely ignoring Sam as he stepped out. Dean's eyes brightened as he looked at the girl population of the school. Well, the female population.
"Have a good day, kiddo," Dean said as he ruffled Sam's hair and walked past him towards a group of girls that were looking at him and not so discretely giggling at their new found crush.
"Yeah...sure," he whispered to himself as he walked towards the main office to collect his timetable.