Chapter 2
Sam turned around for the thousandth time on their way to school, glaring at Dean, who was still moving like some rickety old man. He was wearing Dad's old brown leather jacket. Fitting. It took Dean nine hundred years to light his cigarette and he drew with relish.
„What, Sammy ?" Dean barked, gesturing with his cig-holding hand. "I literally just got out of bed. What do you expect me do to? Jog?"
Sam made wide eyes. "Yeah. For starters."
„Well, hate to break it to you, little brother, but surprisingly, I still don't give a fuck about school."
Sam frowned, and got moving again as Dean finally caught up with him. "Except about math, you mean."
"Uh, yeah." Dean coughed slightly, avoiding his look. "Except—that. But the only thing I'm seriously worried about's being too late for Lisa. You know how she gets sometimes. I promised I'd meet her before school as always. Totally forgot about that."
Dean blew some smoke towards Sam, who now glared at him.
„So, you guys are still together then?"
„Yeah." Dean shrugged. „Sure we are."
He knew what Sam was getting at. There had been some trouble with Lisa and him over the holidays, and—anyway. Sam didn't know the details. He did know something had happened, though. And of course he wouldn't let it go. Although the whole thing hadn't been a big deal.
Just a slight misunderstanding.
Luckily, Sam had only caught a few words of the argument Dean and his longtime-girlfriend had had over the phone a few weeks ago, but still it had been enough to make that sonofabitch as curious as some 12-year-old gossip girl. Dean figured that Sam's even more annoying behavior than usual had something to do with the fact that—ever since the beginning of the summer holidays—for the first time both of them had a girlfriend. Of course he would be competitive about it, that immature little bitch.
„Alright Sammy, guess I'll catch you later", Dean said, absent-minded, and waved at his brother, who probably did the same.
Dean didn't know, because he was already concentrating on putting on his most gorgeous smile for Lisa, who was waiting for him at the abandoned bus stop on the other side of the road. She smiled back at him, warmly. Inside, Dean uttered a sigh of relief. He couldn't find any sign of repressed anger behind her hazel eyes.
Still, you could just never know with women.
They shared a small kiss, but it was long enough to give Dean those good old butterflies back, the ones he'd been afraid of never coming back since their first big fight two weeks ago. They felt a little sluggish, those butterflies, sort of reluctant even. But they were flying nonetheless.
Her lips tasted as sweet as they'd always had since the first time he'd kissed them, which had happened about two years ago whilst swinging together on the school's playground. Now, being with her under that golden sunrise, he felt closer to her than ever before. Well, that was what she'd claimed anyway after they'd made up. And Dean had found those words nicely optimistic.
Because he was totally optimistic. Obviously.
Also, it had all just been a slight misunderstanding, Dean reminded himself.
Now, nothing would come between them again, and nothing would ever ruin the magic between them. And there was absolutely no need for Dean to continue breaking his head about Lisa's mean words concerning his so-called 'summer affair'.
Especially not now, while she was grasping his hand as if there'd never been any trouble, as if all was forgotten, no hard feelings.
As Dean finally entered the student-crammed class room, he could barely resist the urge to pull off one of his most elaborated ugh-faces. He had a whole variety of facial expressions to tell the world that he really didn't care at all. But unfortunately Lisa, who was sitting with her girlfriends in the back row, was watching him proudly. So Dean managed an awkward smile for her. A whole new year of school crap lying ahead of him.
Terrific.
Dean had made a promise to Lisa to give at least a tiny fuck this final year at high school, and—most importantly to her—not to skip class anymore. As much as it pained Dean, he wouldn't let his girlfriend down.
And Dean wouldn't let him down.
„Please make an effort, Dean", he had begged, „if not for yourself, do it for your brother. You're looking out for him, aren't you?"
Dean smiled, looking down at his shoes.
„Oh, there you are, Dean-o!"
Dean winced slightly as his best friend Gabriel slapped his ass, passing him from behind on his way to their seat in the first row.
"Nice to see ya, man", Gabe continued, excited, slumping down on his chair. Dean reluctantly followed suit. „Y'know, Dean-o, I haven't seen a whole lot of you over the holidays. Has Lisa been keeping you busy, my friend?"
He gave him one of his dirtiest smirks.
Despite his sinking mood, Dean couldn't help it and grinned back.
„Ha. You bet. Teacher hasn't been here yet?"
„No," Gabe replied, stretching himself. „I've heard we're getting a new one, anyway. As if that's going to improve our class' unholy math grades."
Dean scoffed. This might have been a good moment to brag to Gabe about his little extra coaching during the holidays. But it would involve telling Gabe about him. And for some reason, Dean didn't want to do that. What Lisa had said about it—summer affair, Dean thought uncomfortably—made him feel kind of weird about the whole thing.
His thoughts were still half-way at the wooden cottage he'd visited so many times in the last weeks. The friendly light blue eyes which had welcomed him happily every time. Their laughter lines.
Gabe snapped his fingers right in front of Dean's nose.
"Dude, you look like a freak right now. Would you mind not thinking 'bout what you've done to Lisa this summer while you're talking to me? It's written all over your stupid face. If you can't help yourself, then at least tell me about it. And don't leave out any details. I've noticed already that her tits jumped up at least one cup. And don't get me started on her ass—"
"Cut it off, asshole", Dean grunted, nervously checking on Lisa. Still babbling with her girlfriends in the corner of the room. "I was just thinking exactly how hard I will kick your ass during break, haven't decided yet."
"Lame, Dean-o. Your face is as red as your girlfriend's pantie today. Pretty yummy, I have to say—"
"Dude. Shut up."
Dean avoided any eye contact with him.
Heart beating harder than necessary, Dean noticed footsteps coming down the hallway, a confident walk which could only belong to a teacher. Glad to be able to end the disturbing conversation with Gabe, Dean faced the black board. The class slowly went quiet in anticipation of the new authority.
The door knob was pulled. Of course nothing happened, because it wasn't that kind of door. A moment later the eventual push happened, and the eventual awkward laughter followed. Classic, Dean thought, searching for his math equipment in his backpack, which wasn't exactly an easy task.
The teacher stepped inside busily.
Dean immediately stopped what he was doing, his attention somehow drawn to the front.
"Hello, students."
Dean's eyes went of the girls were excitedly whispering into each other's ears, but it seemed like a thousand miles away.
Holy crap.
It was him.
Standing in front of the class was no one other than Cas.
Cas met Dean's eyes, recognizing him. Dean found himself paralyzed, unable to move, speak. Cas looked amazing. White shirt. Tousled bed-hair. Freshly shaved. Rosy skin. Dean felt like hiding under the table, internally screaming.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean's heart stopped.
Cas didn't even sound surprised.
Dean mouthed something, unable to control his facial features. He managed a little smile, nodded at his new teacher—Cas, Cas, Cas—and let his eyes wander around nervously. He felt blood shooting into his cheeks. As red as your girlfriend's panties, he heard Gabe's voice coming to his mind, which was pretty disturbing.
After what felt like ages, Cas continued talking.
"So, uhm."
Cas cleared his throat, standing in front of the class.
"I am Mr. Novak. Very pleased to meet you. Let me shortly introduce myself before we start with Algebra."
"Please make it long", Gabe blurted out.
The class responded with collective giggling, laughing off the awkwardness of the moment. Mr. Novak—Cas—seemed confused.
"All right guys, calm down, please. So—introduction. I am your new math teacher. I will replace Mr. White. Now. I come from Heaven, and I will—"
"Heaven, where's that?" Someone interrupted.
"I knew he's an angel", a female voice muttered, and a handful of girls shyly joined the laughter.
"It is a town in Colorado. It's where I come from. Well, all right, students, let's just skip this part then and jump right into business." Cas looked around himself, frowning. "I need chalk for the black board. Can anyone help me out, please?"
"Me", Dean squeaked, raising his hand.
He cleared his throat, blushing.
"I mean, uh, I'll do it."
Gotta get out of here.
"Thank you, Dean."
Cas was smiling at him, seeming to find the sight of him calming somehow. The sight of Cas' smile, however, made Dean feel the exact opposite.
Dean got up from his chair and hurried to the door, stumbling and almost taking the chair with him, catching someone muttering "Why does he know his name?" on his way out.
So. Skipping class after all. First day of school and he can't be bothered.
That was probably what everyone thought who came across Dean that morning.
Such a rebel.
Dean was hiding at his favorite place, the town's Fishing Lake, which wasn't very far from home.
He took a long drag on his cigarette.
When he had left under the pretense of getting his new math teacher who happened to be no one less than friggin' Cas some chalk, he hadn't wasted another thought on returning.
All the times Dean and Cas had met over the summer, never had they talked about where Dean went to school. Sure, Dean had figured that Cas was a teacher. But for some reason, the simple question "Where do you teach, then?" hadn't crossed his mind. Not even once. Now that Dean thought about it, there had been a lot of things they'd never bothered to address. Somehow, they'd always managed to stay in the moment, not to think about the rest of their lives, and to just enjoy each other's company.
And—of course—they'd also done a fair amount of math practice.
Actually, Dean added in mind rather angrily, the whole point of our meetings had simply been Cas helping me out with math. Just private tutoring. That's it. I suck at math and he was nice enough to get my lazy ass movin'. What Lisa said—
Dean gave a frustrated sigh, hiding his face in his palm for a moment.
—doesn't matter. Just a misunderstanding.
Cas hadn't even really looked surprised to see him. But then again, Cas always seemed to be in control of his emotions. Always choosing which emotions he wanted to display openly and which ones he wanted to keep to himself. But those, Dean figured, were just his personal impressions of Cas as a person, as a casual new neighbor who happened to have a heart for math losers. Dean could be completely wrong about him. Because it wasn't like they had spent every waking minute together or anything.
Manically, Dean drew on his cigarette.
He hadn't realized that it was burned down already, and seared his lips.
Snipping the finished cig into the dew covered, green grass, Dean got up from the park bench.
Ready to do, well—something.
He needed to busy himself and started kicking random pebble stones.
Dean friggin' loved this bench. He'd been returning to it every now and again ever since he could remember. One time—it seemed like it was yesterday and it really only happened a few weeks back—he had been lingering around right here. Sam had been with his crush Jess somewhere, and Dean had felt a little lonely.
Then, out of the blue, a strange man had sat down next to him.
Dean had jumped in surprise, and the stranger had quietly laughed at him.
Not in a creepy way, though, even if the dude clearly hadn't seemed to mind personal space. He had sat so close that his thighs had brushed Dean's. Actually, Dean remembered, they had literally been pressing against his own. The man had started talking to Dean as if he was an old friend he'd just met in the park.
"I like this place. It's calm."
"Uh. I guess."
"Sometimes humankind just needs to take a moment to rest its mind, in all of this universal promiscuity and unclear flurry of activity. Am I right?"
"I have no idea what you just said to me, but. Yeah. This place is pretty chill."
"'Chill'", the man had repeated thoughtfully. He'd turned to Dean. That had been the moment Dean had noticed how gorgeous the dude was. And how close. "Is that a 'slang word'? It's a good word. 'Chill'. Did you know that 'slang' means 'slurred language'? It's funny, because 'slang' is slurred language itself."
Dean had rubbed his neck. "Uh, yeah. No, I didn't know that. Very—uh—funny."
The man had smiled at him. Dude. "What's your name?"
"I'm Dean. But my friends just call me—uh—Dean."
"Dean", the man had repeated again. "Well, hello, Dean."
"Yeah. Hello. Uh—"
"Castiel."
"—Castiel. Oh. So you're French? Castielle? Man, I suck at French."
Cas had giggled. "No, Dean. I am not a French person. That's just my name. Admittedly it is a quite odd one, compared to yours."
"Oh. Oh." Dean had felt like an idiot, furiously blushing.
"Pas de problème."
"Uh. Merci?"
Cas had started talking about how he was new to this place, St. Tipper. Dean wouldn't have been surprised if he had told him he was new to planet earth in general.
For some reason, Dean hadn't even thought about making one snarky remark towards his old-fashioned trench coat, the blue tie hanging loosely and backwards around his neck or the whole weirdness of the situation overall. He'd just performed one idiotic faux-pas after another, he recalled. In Dean's defense, Cas had sat intimidatingly close. And his voice. Eyes. Everything.
At the sudden memory, Dean felt a wave of anger rushing through his body, because back then everything had been fine.
And now—
"Now everything's friggin' screwed", he cursed.
He didn't know where to go, just that he had to go somewhere, and let his feet carry him through the cold wind, aimless, on that so very screwed up first day of September.
