Chapter Two: Mean Girls


AN: Sorry, this took way too long. School will kill me, one day. Anyway, got the third chapter finished as well, and will have uploaded that by the end of the week! ~

X


Sometimes, Dean wished his life had been a book. Or, a TV show. A short story. Anything fictional, really. Because if it had been fictional, the author or screenwriter or whoever was responsible for the plot would just make days like these fly by, days when nothing happened. When he was so bored that it was almost physically painful. But since his life wasn't fictional days didn't fly by. They didn't even walk by. They crept.

He'd never been keen when it came to school, and this high school didn't change anything about it. It was just like any other school they'd been at, and apart from that Castiel kid he couldn't seem to spot anything, or anyone, interesting. There were cheerleaders and nerds, cute girls and not so cute girls, bitches with attention deficit and smartasses. Footballers, too, and nerds, hot guys – and this he'd observed in a completely, utterly heterosexual way – and greasy creeps, bullies and their victims. The city itself wasn't that bad. There was a cinema, a couple of nice cafés, Dean liked the burger restaurants and there was a bakery that made good pie, too. It was still boring. Not the city in particular. Actually, the city was pretty nice, and Dean would have enjoyed living there. It was more the settling down thing. And the fact that both John and Sam seemed to share that opinion – and apparently blamed one another, for whatever stupid reason, or maybe they just needed a reason to fight – didn't make it any better. And so, for the first time since… ever, really, Dean actually liked going to school. Not because he was interested in any of the crap they were taught there, hell no, he didn't give a damn about that. But classes he could skip. He could fake a headache or just skive off without a reason, and hide in a broom closet, or something. His family, well. He could leave, of course, but he loved them. Wouldn't leave. Family was all he had, after all. Leaving them was not an option. But escaping the arguments for a while, that worked.

Today wasn't any different. He'd spent Chemistry in a broom closet and was now sitting outside, in a quiet corner and totally not with a bottle of beer he'd had in his backpack, savouring what might be one of the last sunny days before next spring, gaze fixed on the blue sky. He didn't know why, but that colour reminded him of Castiel. Again, in a completely heterosexual way. Weird boy. Weird name. Castiel. Not ugly or anything. Just weird. Castiel. Sounded like a pen name, or screen name, or so. And he'd introduced himself with Castiel, not Cas. Maybe he liked his name, or just didn't like nicknames. Or maybe he'd found Dean unlikeable, and didn't want him to use the nickname-

"Hey there. You're the new guy, aren't you? Dean Winchester?"

Dean looked down, raising his eyebrows when he spotted three girls. Three really rather damn smoking hot girls. Two brunettes and a blonde, the latter their leader, of sorts, judging by the fact that her smile was the most arrogant, and she'd been the one speaking. Ah, and they had to be cheerleaders. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect make-up, perfect legs, perfect backside, perfect- well. The fact that they were wearing cheerleader uniform was pretty telling as well.

"Yeah."

The blonde gave a smile, too beaming and white-toothed and… perfect… to be genuine, and stepped closer.

"It's a pleasure. I'm Lilith, and that are Meg, and Ruby."

She stuck out a hand at that, Dean didn't take it. Yeah, she was hot, like, really hot, but he didn't trust her. Everything about her screamed evil, and he wasn't one for bitchy, ruthless, sneaky girls. That was Sam's area. Lilith wavered slightly, smile fading, before it returned full force, and she folded her arms instead.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Dean. If you need anything, just ask."

Dean nodded, and she was gone, along with her minions/friends.

Now, cheerleader talking to the new guy was not what American teen movies were about, definitely not, but it wasn't the first time this happened. He was, and Dean's smirk as he ran a hand through his hair was totally not vain or smug, just too handsome.

"See ya met our Plastics."

Was the next thing that interrupted his train of thoughts, and he looked up from what, of course, wasn't the beer bottle he totally hadn't brought in his rucksack, spotting a guy with light brown hair, a chocolate bar in his hand, and weird brownish/goldish/greenish eyes. And the smirk on his lips was even more smug than Dean's had been.

"Yeah- your what?"

The boy arched a brow, taking a bite of his candy bar, and chuckled before speaking.

"Our Plastics. Plastics? Mean Girls? Lindsey Lohan?"

"Ohh, Lindsey Lohan. Yeah. Sorry, dude, if you wanna talk about chick movies you better talk to my brother."

The boy rolled his eyes, ate another mouthful of chocolate, and then shrugged.

"Anyway. Better keep off them, unless ya want a metaphorical knife in the back. Or, a literal nail file, ya know."

Yes, Dean did know. Hadn't intended to tangle with them, after all. That, and the fact that he was still smirking exasperatingly, made him narrow his eyes, shifting his position.

"I don't need a babysitter. Who are you?"

The smirk deepened.

"The Trickster."

"… The… trickster."

"The Trickster."

"… Right. So, you made that nickname up on your own, or…"

The trickster, or the Trickster, rolled his eyes, finished his chocolate bar, and dropped the wrapper.

"Didn't make it up. I am the Trickster."

He obviously wasn't, at least not to the rather attractive redhead that had appeared behind him, a couple of feet away, expression annoyed.

"Gabe."

The Trickster froze, rolled his eyes once more, but didn't react.

"Gabe. Come on, you promised you'd drive me home."

He gave up, shot Dean a glare that made him raise his brows again, and then turned around and they were gone, and the older one of the Winchester brothers couldn't help but smirk. Well, this day hadn't been all that boring. Two weirdos, then. Castiel, and the Trickster. Maybe this school was interesting after all.

Twenty minutes, and had he had a bottle of beer, it would've been twenty minutes and an empty bottle of beer, later, he finally left his hideout – had been a shitty one anyway. Three, how had he called them? – 'Plastics' had found him, and the Trickster as well. Gabe. Short for Gabriel, he assumed. Gabriel, Castiel. Two weirdos, though Dean was pretty certain he liked the blue-eyed, somewhat distant boy he spent his Maths lessons sitting next to better than that candy-addicted (chick-?)movie freak.

He had talked to Castiel, Dean kept calling him Cas, quite a few times now, but hadn't found out much. Just that he had siblings, that he liked books better than sports, or anything, really, and that he didn't like being interrupted when scribbling down notes. The latter he hadn't told him, but Dean had deduced it from the glare he'd received after asking Cas if he could borrow his pencil sharpener while the teacher was explaining something. It was weird, seeing him glare. His expression didn't change, it hardly ever did, but his eyes became… bluer, darker, like the sea during a storm and – heterosexual way. You know.

He managed to chase those thoughts away eventually, though the thoughts that replaced his old ones did involve Cas as well, seeing as Dean spotted him. Surrounded by a group of brawny guys, twice his height and weight, most likely. They didn't seem to want to have a nice chit-chat, and Dean didn't hesitate. If there was something he couldn't stand it was idiots who attacked people weaker than them.

"How about you stop picking on him and go find someone your own size?"