Dean Winchester was the kind of guy every girl dreamed about...up to a point. If you wanted "true love" and commitment, he wasn't your guy, but if you wanted a fun couple of hours with a good guy, he was your man. He was sassy, funny, and cocky- just this side of disrespectful with teachers. When you were with him, he made you feel great. He was attentive, opening your door, putting his hand on your shoulder or the small of your back when you crossed the parking lot. When you sat together, he paid complete attention to you, watching your every move with his bright green eyes. He would reach across the table and take your hand, playing with your fingers, moving them and stroking each finger. He responded to what you said and joked and laughed.

When you were together, and I mean in the 'romantic' way, it was like you two were the only people in the world. It had felt that way in the back of his car, a shiny black car called an Impala. He'd become a strange mixture of confidence and shyness, being gentle yet insistent with his mouth and his hands. I hadn't done much previously in the realm of making out, and Dean was 'my first time' for a lot of things. He'd talked me through it, and been slow and gentle. He'd said again and again that we could stop, that it was my decision...and in the end his attentions had decided me, and we'd gone all the way. He'd slipped a condom on, but obviously it hadn't done its job.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

I saw Dean in school on Monday, he was actually hanging out in the hallway before class for once. A lot of the time he ambled in late, or almost late, and then would give the teacher an insolent half-grin when they grumbled at him.

I walked up to him- he had his arms slung across the shoulders of one of the girls in the "loose" group. Her name was Brandi or Candi or something similar and she wrote her signature with a little heart dotting the 'i' at the end of her name. Her hair was always up in a side ponytail and she always wore heavy makeup that extended down her neck, often to cover over the hickeys that she so often sported. Yes, the "loose" girls were called that because they made out and/or slept with anyone and everyone they could.

"Hey, um, Dean?" I looked up at him, "Can I, um, could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, kid," he said with a grin, shifting his weight. Brandi or Candi shifted too, leaning towards him.

I glanced over at her. She was watching me, chewing gum open-mouthed.

"Um, I mean, alone?" I asked hesitantly.

He glanced at the girl, and she gave him a little smirk. "You can say whatever it is in front of Candi here, we're all friends, right?" he asked easily.

She wrinkled her nose at him, smiling, and blew him a kiss.

"Uh- I- never mind," I said hurriedly, turning and walking over to my locker. I heard Candi laugh meanly as I walked away.

My stomach flipped as I spun the dial on my locker, and I prayed that I wouldn't start to feel nauseous in school. I hadn't thrown up yet, but it was getting stronger and harder to ignore.

I felt frustrated. I needed to talk to Dean, how was I going to manage to get him alone? Girls were always hounding him, either hanging on him or flirting with him.

Suddenly a feeling of loneliness welled up in me. I needed to talk to someone about this, to tell someone, anyone, this terrible secret. I didn't even know what I planned to do yet, I just needed to talk. To have someone hear me. To not feel so alone in all of this. Tears stung my eyes and I slammed my locker just as the bell rang, and hurried into homeroom.

I kept my head down at my seat, trying to blink rapidly to clear my eyes without having to wipe them. I didn't want anyone to notice the tears. I listened to the teacher call out names, and when she got to my name and I replied, my voice cracked, which made everyone laugh.

When she got to Dean's name, and he replied in the affirmative, the teacher said, "You're actually here and in your seat on time, will wonders never cease?" which also made the class laugh.

My neck was prickling as I sat down after saying the Pledge of Alleigance with the class, and I lifted my head and glanced around. Dean was watching me from his seat three rows over, and when he saw me looking at him, he raised his eyebrows. When I didn't respond, he mouthed, 'You okay?'

I lowered my head and didn't look up again.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

I hurried up the hall, wondering if I had time to go to the bathroom before class, and felt something pull on my backpack.

"Hey," Dean was suddenly beside me, and he put his hand on my arm, "What's up?" he asked. His green eyes looked down at me with concern.

"Nothing," I suddenly felt angry at him, "Just forget it."

He pulled on my arm, making both of us stop. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to talk to me all serious in the hallway, and then when you walk into home- room you look like you're about to cry. Something's up, so spill."

"I, uh-" I glanced around, and then stared at the ground. "Not—not here."

"What is it?" he asked intently, bending down to look at me.

I glanced up again. "I can't- I don't- it needs to be in private, okay?"

He sighed. "Okay. At lunch time, you want to meet behind the bleachers?"

I raised my head and gave him a look. That was a notorious make-out spot for kids, during the day and after school.

He held his hands up. "We'll talk, okay, just talkin', I promise. And you can tell me whatever it is that's so important."

~ ~ spn~ ~

I walked down the hall towards the lunch room, and the smell of hot grease and cooked meat hung in the air. All of a sudden, my stomach clenched, and I knew- I wasn't going to be able to hold on—I ran past the door, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean appear in the hallway.

"Hey!" he called out.

I could see kids turning as I ran past them, and then I couldn't stop it, it was coming up my throat- I stopped right at the door of the bathroom and leaned over, throwing up all over the floor and my shoes.

I heard people yelling "Ewww!" as my stomach heaved, and then my vision started to go gray.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

"Please, I'm okay, can I just go back to class?" I asked Mrs. Forrester, the school nurse.

"Sorry, hon, I can't let you. Once you've thrown up, you have to go home for the day," she said apologetically.

I sighed and laid back down on the hard mattress in the nurse's office. I hoped—prayed-that Mom wasn't too mad at me for this. I hoped that she was the one that the nurse got ahold of. If Trent was the one to have to come pick me up, I'd never hear the end of it.

I jerked awake when a cool palm laid itself on my forehead. Mom stood over me, looking down at me with concern. She glanced at Mrs. Forrester. "She's not running a fever," she said.

"Yes, I know. Sometimes with a virus, there is no fever," Mrs. Forrester said.

Mom sighed. "Have you been feeling sick for a while?"

"Uhh...no, I just...woke up this morning with a sour stomach," I lied, hoping it didn't show on my face.

"Hmm...maybe it was that sausage. My stomach didn't feel too hot either this morning. Probably why it was on sale," Mom sighed, "All right, let's get you home."

"She can come back when she hasn't thrown up or had an elevated temperature for 24 hours," Mrs. Forrester told us.

When we got home, Mom checked my temperature, and then sent me to bed with a trash can and a glass of ice water. I didn't feel sick at all, any more, but I knew I had to act like I felt bad. I laid in bed and read the book our English class was working on. Mom made dinner in the evening, and I was excused from doing any other chores.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

I didn't see Dean for two more days after I came back to school. I glimpsed him in the hallway a couple of times, and then when I was at my locker at the end of the day, he suddenly appeared next to me.

"Hey," he said casually.

"Hey," I replied, opening my locker door.

"So...you feelin' better?"

"Yeah," I pulled a couple of books out of my backpack and placed them in the locker.

"You want a ride home?"

I closed my locker and looked at him with surprise. "What?" He had never offered me a ride home before.

"So we can talk...about whatever it is you wanted to talk to me about."

"Oh...that..." I felt nervous all of a sudden.

"What?" he stepped close to me, his eyes searching my face, "What's got you so...nervous like this?"

"Uh...I don't—I'll tell you-" I stammered.

"C'mon," he jerked his head to the side.