A/N: Long chapter. Apologies.

Castiel flipped lazily through his chemistry book, his foot tapping on the bar of his four-legged stool. Gabriel hadn't come home last night, indicating that he found someone at the bar to go home with, and leaving Castiel to open up shop the next morning. Gabriel always allowed himself to get carried away on the nights of school events –the majority of the customers at his joke and candy shop were teenagers, and they never stopped by on the mornings after dances or big games, so Gabriel preferred to shirk his responsibilities and leave Castiel to rot in the boredom of the empty business. Castiel didn't really mind, however, as he just used it as an opportunity to study in peace.

But this morning he was less than interested in the text laid before him on the counter. He had had a rough practice this morning and the coffee was doing nothing to keep him alert or to soothe his muscles. Mostly, it served as a small source of heat against the slight October chill. Still, he liked this weather, and he liked rowing. He liked watching the sun rise over the orange and red trees, setting them ablaze as he and his teammates worked their way up the river. Crew was a physically taxing sport with difficult hours, but it definitely had its perks.

Castiel set his head down on the book and groaned, his limbs dangling over the stool behind the countertop. He just wanted to finish high school already, so he wouldn't have his parents hanging on his back about his grades and college applications and sports and the other dozens of things they controlled in his life. Although, even if he did get into Harvard and moved halfway across the country, they would probably just harp on him about getting into med school and making lots of money and helping people.

A tinkling of the bell pulled Castiel from his dark and frustrated thoughts. He looked up and was instantly surprised to find the new student from his classes, Dean, entering the shop.

"Seriously, Dean? Tricks and Treats?"

"Come on, Sammy, this place is cool. Joke shops are kind of hard to come by these days and this one's even got candy." Castiel watched with interest as the boys wandered up and down the aisle. Upon seeing Dean in class and at lunch, Castiel figured that he was just another mindless jock who would get pulled into the popular crowd for his good looks. Sam was different –he seemed like the smart, quiet type. Castiel wondered if he would get to see another side of Dean while he was there with his younger brother.

"Hey look at this! This is now officially my favorite place ever."

"Dean, you are not getting a penis whistle."

Well that was disappointing. Castiel looked back down at his textbook, but continued to listen to the conversation.

"They only have one color. Do you think the company makes them in different colors? Because if not, that's kind of advocating for White supremacy, assuming that people only want to blow on White cocks. Maybe I want a Black one!"

Castiel was caught off guard by the comment and had to stifle his laughter. Okay, so Dean wasn't some stupid jock. Well, not completely, anyway.

"Hey, do you think if they made Black ones, they would be bigger?"

"Dean! That is totally inappropriate and racist!"

"Hardly, when I'm speaking in their favor. I don't think African Americans would find that degrading."

"You don't know that," Sam protested.

Finally, Castiel decided to make his presence known. "Last week Uriel bought our entire stock and handed them out to his teammates on the school basketball team," Castiel evenly said from the counter. "We are currently awaiting the new orders to be delivered."

"You don't say?" Dean called from behind the shelf. "I thought that guy seemed pretty cool. So were they bigger than these?"

"No. Although when he purchased them, he pointed out that they were not proportional to the White ones."

Dean laughed unabashedly and clapped his hands together. "That's hilarious."

"Everyone knows that Uriel is the funniest guy on the team."

Dean strolled from around the corner, his eyes lingering on various other items as he passed. When he finally faced Castiel, his eyebrows shot up.

"You're in my history class! Castiel, right?"

Castiel nodded, expressionless, though he was surprised that Dean remembered his name from their brief encounter –or remembered him at all, really.

"Castiel Novak. You also switched into my journalism and sports medicine classes yesterday."

"Oh, sorry if I didn't notice you."

"It is not of import. I thrive on anonymity." He calmly watched Dean as the boy frowned at the comment and stumbled to make the conversation less awkward.

"Well, I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my little brother, Sam."

Castiel nodded politely at Sam, who was watching the two boys with a confused look on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam. My brother is Alfie Novak, I believe you two are friends."

"Right! He did mention you once, come to think of it." The Winchesters shifted uncomfortably in Castiel's silence (not that Castiel really cared), and began to inspect the candy for something to do. Finally Dean gave up and turned back to Castiel, seeming a little agitated. "So why are you working in a place like this? You don't really seem like you're here for shits and giggles."

Castiel cocked an eyebrow at his choice of words. "My cousin owns this store, along with many others, and my brother Gabriel manages it. Gabriel is ah, detained at the moment, so I am keeping an eye on it."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting customers until after noon, since most students are…sleeping in after their big night."

"Yeah I figured the same. Sam and I didn't go to the dance or any of the parties. We just felt like staying home. How come you didn't go?

Castiel tilted his head slightly, pondering how Dean assumed that he hadn't gone to the party. Of course he hadn't; everyone in the school knew he found most school activities boring or distasteful (or both), but Dean was a mere stranger and already seemed to know this about him, just from Lisa's blasé comment days ago. He wasn't sure whether to feel warmed by Dean's attention or annoyed.

"I had crew practice at six this morning. I also have no interest in parties."

"You what at what time this morning?"

"I row for the Belleville Boys crew team, which is independent from the school, though I still get credit for my participation. Practice began at six, so I had to leave the house at five-thirty. What is difficult to understand?"

"I don't understand why someone would do that willingly," Dean joked.

Castiel smirked. He often got that sort of response; most people thought he was strange because he was a teenager willing to wake up before sunrise.

"I enjoy it. My parents gave me the option of joining a crew team or a golf team, and I chose the former. It's a pleasant sport. For two hours I am not expected to talk or make decisions."

"That doesn't sound pleasant at all."

"To you, perhaps."

"So what if you wanted to play soccer?"

"I don't."

"But what if you did? Would your parents allow it, or were those the only choices they gave you?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. He didn't like people asking about his personal life. It was why he had closed himself off from nearly day one upon entering C. Shirley High two years ago. He and Alfie had moved to Belleville, Illinois from Pontiac, when Gabriel insisted that the boys finish high school around other, average teenagers. Castiel had been a sophomore (and Alfie an eighth grader) when his family's business went international, forcing his parents and older brothers to move to Chicago to be near an airport. Gabriel didn't want his younger brothers to have to grow up in such different circumstances, so he had invited them into his home until they finished high school.

Somehow, his new classmates had managed to find out that Castiel's family was very rich, despite his and his brothers' discretion. Students tried to become friends with him or date him, not realizing that his parents had many restrictions or that Castiel was not about that life. They just saw him as "hot" and "rich," but after giving everyone the cold shoulder, he managed to become invisible in under a month; everyone assumed that he was a boring stiff who studied all the time and was snobbish about his good looks and wealth.

"Seriously, who gives an ultimatum like crew and golf? It's just a sport, I mean, no big deal, right? People play sports for fun, so why do your parents have to be so controlling about it and ruin the whole point?" Castiel sighed.

"Are you going to buy anything?"

The younger boy tugged on his brother's sleeve. "Dean, I think we should go."

Dean continued to look at Castiel. He put his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to offend you. I just hope you get to do things because you want to do it. Get what I'm saying?"

Castiel considered him for a moment. Why did he care? It wasn't his life, so he had no reason to pry. Castiel didn't want to argue, however, and simply said, "Don't worry about it."

Dean caught the hint and nodded in understanding. Castiel watched as the two boys left the shop, and exhaled the breath he didn't know he'd been holding when the door closed. He just wanted to get to college already. Get away from it all.