Jo felt her hands shaking as she took her seat in French. Michael was sitting in the front row, four seats away from her. Her whole body was screaming at her to both get as far away from him as possible and scratch his eyes out. How could he sit there, smirking his oily smile up at the teacher after trying to—to… after doing that? Jo wanted to go take a shower in the locker rooms. She could practically smell his reviling cologne from here, or maybe it was still on her. That made her want to take a shower even more. She squirmed in her seat as the rest of the students filed into the room.

Castiel was sitting across the room at his normal seat by the window. Jo tried to pay attention to him and keep her eyes from wandering over to that too-shiny head of black hair. Castiel seemed completely unruffled by what had happened in the classroom over. He was just staring placidly out the window, his expression and posture totally at ease. How was he not in the least bit shaken up? She had hid her nerves well enough from him, but was he seriously not freaked out at all? He practically threw Michael across the room. Jo couldn't believe how strong Castiel was. She was wondering why he hid that Superman side of him under a Clark Kent kind of character when a finger tapped her shoulder incessantly.

"Hey," Charlie greeted brightly as Jo jerked toward her, startled. Charlie grinned apologetically. "Sorry for scaring you."

Jo shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it."

Charlie smiled again and pulled her French books out of her bag. "You know, this class usually is the worst on Mondays. Last period and all, and forget about the whole senioritis thing." She chuckled. "Well at least we have something to focus on instead."

Jo blinked slowly, not following, and Charlie frowned at her look of incomprehension.

"Plotting? Dean and Castiel's study session in the library after this?" she offered.

"Oh, right." Jo bobbed her head, but she couldn't muster up the same enthusiasm she had felt about their scheming during lunch. Her nerves were singing with nervous energy and she was barely focusing her mind enough to hold a conversation with Charlie. She doubted that she could put together a good enough plan to get Dean and Castiel together in one period. She rubbed her eyes blearily and sighed. How could she feel so energetic and so tired at the same time? Was this even normal?

"Hey… are you alright?" Jo glanced over at Charlie and saw a concerned expression on the other girl's face.

"Why do you ask?"

"You look kinda spooked; and it's more than me startling you when I sat down. You look really shaken up. Did something happen?"

Jo narrowed her eyes. "How can you tell?"

Charlie shrugged. "What can I say? I guess I'm good at reading people. So something did happen, then, right?"

If Charlie could tell that much from just looking at her for a few seconds, Jo doubted that she could keep anything from the redhead. Her mom was the same way. She could take one look at her daughter and know a day at school had been either absolute horse shit or not so bad. Jo's lips curled into a faint smile, thinking about the look on her mom's face whenever Jo complained about her being able to read people too well.

"Yeah," she said softly. The teacher, Mrs. Golec, had just walked in. People were starting to quiet down as much as a last period French class full of seniors could quiet down. A clear murmur was still going around the classroom, and Mrs. Golec didn't seem to mind. There was nothing she could do about it, anyway.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Charlie gently prodded. She still had Jo fixed under a searching gaze. Jo know she should probably answer yes here. It was never healthy to bottle something up for long, but if she had learned anything from growing up with Dean, it was that sometimes bottling things up was the only way to go.

"Not really," she said as Mrs. Golec began to review the homework that maybe three students actually did. Jo didn't even bother taking any papers out to pretend that she had. Of course, he did it. Michael's hand shot up to answer every question, like the good little boy everybody thought him to be. Jo's skin crawled as he correctly answered everything the teacher threw at him. Smug bastard.

Charlie's eyes followed Jo's stony glare, and her gaze traveled between Jo and Michael for a few seconds. If she came to any conclusions about what was bothering Jo, she didn't say what they were, and for that Jo was thankful. The last thing she needed was someone else pushing her into something she didn't want to do.

"So what are we going to do about the study session?" Charlie asked, successfully pulling Jo's attention away from Michael.

Jo pursed her lips and shrugged. "Dean's an idiot, but he isn't stupid. Well… no, he is stupid but he isn't that stupid. If whatever those two lovebirds have going on is the real deal, I don't think he'll keep his head in his ass for very long."

Charlie nodded and pretended to jot down what Mrs. Golec was saying. "So you're saying we should just let them run their course?" Both girls glanced over at Castiel, who was staring out the window. He was obviously stuck in his own world, completely shutting out the dreary French class. He looked peaceful, but completely oblivious. Jo frowned.

"Yeah, but maybe we should be there for a little support. The wing women."

Charlie nodded again curtly, all seriousness. "Agreed."

Meg leafed through the contents of Balthazar's black leather wallet as she approached her locker. That kid was an even bigger idiot than she had thought. He had two hundred and thirty-five dollars in there along with a shit ton of gift cards to a bunch of high-end stores that Meg had never stepped foot in in her whole sorry life. Who the fuck carries around a bunch of gift cards like that? Who even gets that many gift cards? The wallet itself was probably worth a few hundred bucks, knowing Balthazar's filthy rich family. He was always dropped off in a top of the line sports car by a woman practically dripping in expensive jewelry. They could probably buy five of these wallets just to prove how much money they had.

People like that made her sick to her stomach.

At her locker, Meg dumped the books she had brought to classes into the bottom and shoved a few books she might need for some homework back into her bag. Chances were she wasn't even going to open her bag until first period tomorrow. There were more important things to do than homework, like getting home and getting the money she promised her dad at the beginning of the day. He would probably be passed out on the couch when she got home, but on the off chance that he was awake she wanted a safety cushion. He wouldn't pay much attention to her when he had a bunch of green bills shoved under his nose.

She slammed her locker shut and began to saunter down the hallway, putting a purposeful sway in her step. Ruby was stuck in Spanish, and Meg had no more classes for the day. She was free for the next half hour as she walked home. Nobody intercepted her in the hallway, but she walked through the side exit of the school—through the gym—anyways just to be safe.

No sooner than the warm April sun hit her face, Meg's way was blocked.

"Cutting school early, little sister?" Alistair asked, his faint lisp causing spittle to fly from his lips and hit her in the face when he said 'sister'. She wiped it off with a look of disgust on her face.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?"

"Ruby was thinking we would… hang out after she got out of school." He winked lazily at Meg and stepped out of her way, but it was more than a challenge than an invitation to let her pass. Meg stayed stubbornly rooted to her spot. Alistair began to walk around her slowly, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

"Whatever you do with Ruby is fine, just leave me out of it," Meg spat.

"Believe me, I wasn't planning on sharing the intimate details," he hissed right in her ear. Goosebumps rose on her skin in response.

"Good."

"But I was hoping you could do me—us, that is—a little favor." He stopped right in front of her, his legs spread apart. He looked like in army general in that pose. Meg wondered whether he was doing that to intimidate her or if his ego was so big that he was doing it subconsciously. He was too big of a bonehead to try and do that on purpose. Of course it was his ego.

And of course he was asking for favors.

"I just never get a break, do I?" she muttered to herself.

"What was that?" he barked, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward.

Meg smiled, but it felt more like baring her teeth. "What do you need, big brother of mine?"

He began to circle her slowly again. "Hundred bucks."

Meg took a deep breath. "What the fuck do you need that kind of money for?"

"None of your business."

"Well sorry, but I haven't got anything," she lied through her teeth. The wallet seemed to weigh down her backpack, dragging it to the ground. She was glad she thought to drop it into her bag with her books before coming outside. Alistair would definitely have seen it in her pocket.

"That so?" he asked, inching closer. Meg shifted her weight onto her heels, leaning as far away from him as she could, but she refused to move back. She would hold her ground.

"Go scavenge somewhere else."

Alistair stopped inches from Meg's face. She could feel his sickly warm breath on her skin and she wanted no more to be anywhere else than here. Even her ratty living room with her father drunk out of his mind seemed more inviting than this, because the worst her dad could do was beat her. Alistair had a way of making things way worse than they seemed, and he had that look in his flat eyes now that made Meg's blood go cold and her whole body freeze up. He looked predatory.

"Fine," he said finally, leaning back. Meg let out a silent breath. "I'll catch you around, baby sister." He winked at her again and stepped farther away. Meg didn't need to be told twice. She leaned forward and broke into a fast walk, on the verge of running. She couldn't let him see her run away.

Meg waited until she had turned a corner to stop and collect herself. She slowed her breathing and willed her heart to stop beating so loudly. Somehow, she got her pulse back to normal and straightened herself out. No point looking disorderly. She was just going home to give her dad some cash and not get some homework done.

She set off at a slow walk down the two-lane road. Not many people were out an about Lawrence at this time on a Monday afternoon. She took her sweet time going home, the wallet still feeling like a stone on her back. She needed it more than that rich kid. She needed it more.

She kept telling herself that all the way home, but the words never rang true.

Gabriel could still taste the brownie on his tongue as he powered through Trig. A late afternoon snack was just the thing to get him through last period and into the end of the day. Especially when that last period was math. One did not simply jump into a math class without the proper sustenance. As quietly as he could, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a Twix bar. Always best to have a little something for the road, in Gabriel's opinion. He took a bite and began to take notes again, for once actually focusing.

Mrs. Jordan, his teacher, scanned the room. "Can anybody tell me the answer to the problem on the board?"

Gabriel swallowed the last of his candy bar and raised his hand in the air. "Negative one," he answered when she called on him.

For a moment, Mrs. Jordan looked impressed. "That's right."

Gabriel sat back in his chair with a smug expression on his face and licked the last traces of chocolate from his hand. It was nice to know that when he actually tried, he wasn't some world-class idiot. At least he had the option not to be.

Balthazar snorted at him from the seat to his right.

"What's so funny, asshat?" he whispered. Mrs. Jordan had already moved on to the next problem, and her attention was on the other side of the room.

Balthazar shrugged. "You seem pretty pleased with yourself."

Gabriel comically puffed out his chest and raised his eyebrows. "Why shouldn't I be? I'm a genius."

His friend shook his head, but didn't respond. Gabriel let out his breath and furrowed his brow. Balthazar was acting normally, which was good. But it was also unexpected. It was probably best not to say anything about Meg, but Gabriel barely held his questions back. For some reason, today she seemed to get under his friend's skin. Gabriel knew from experience that that was no easy feat. Why her, and why now?

Balthazar pulled out his phone and checked a text message. To Gabriel, he didn't look any different than he had yesterday or the week before. What had changed?

"I know I have a fine ass, but there's no need to stare at it," Balthazar commented without looking up from his phone. He was typing out a message to somebody. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"As if I would waste my time staring at your ass when there are such better views in other places."

It was Balthazar's turn to roll his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that."

Gabriel made a face and went back to taking notes and paying attention. He was never going to get inside Balthazar's head, and things were back to normal again. Why bother questioning it?

It was fitting that his last period before meeting Castiel in the library was English. Dean scrubbed a hand over his eyes as Sasha flawlessly read through some monologue that went completely over Dean's head. It shocked him that she could read the lines so easily without once stumbling over her words. Mr. Shurley occasionally glanced up from his battered copy of The Merchant of Venice, nodding at Sasha with approval. Dean had never gotten that look from him before. Sasha finished reading the monologue and flicked her hair over her shoulder with a superior look on her face. He and Ash exchanged a look of total incomprehension. Ash could read numbers, but Shakespeare was as foreign to him as it was to Dean. Dean hoped that Castiel would be able to explain what the hell that monologue meant later.

"That was a great reading, Sasha," Mr. Shurley commented as soon as she finished speaking. "I, uh, get that it's last period, guys. So I'm thinking that I'll just let you out fifteen minutes early as long as you promise to finish Act Three for homework, alright?"

There was no hesitation when everybody in the room said, "Yes!" Mr. Shurley smiled and waved them away. "Just be sure to stay quiet in the hallways!" he called after the first few students who walked out the door.

Dean hurried out of the classroom, leaving Ash behind to scramble with his bags. They could meet up later after Dean's study session. Maybe he could go get some of his homework done in the library before Castiel got there. Dean had all the books he needed already, anyway. He picked up the pace, heading down the hallway that would lead him to the hallway.

"Hey, Winchester!"

"Walt," Dean said. He stopped, but he didn't turn around. Walt was one of the last people he wanted to see right now.

"Where you heading?" Walt asked, circling in front of Dean along with four friends: Roy, Johnny, Mark, and Christian. All members of the baseball team. Walt had a tight smile stretched across his round face, exposing crooked teeth. Couldn't his parents invest in braces or something?

"Going to do some work," Dean replied carefully.

"That so?"

"Yup."

Roy stepped forward. "A couple other guys on the team had a free last period. We were going to go get in uniform and toss a ball around early. Get warmed up." He eyed dean and crossed his arms. Dean was pretty sure they all knew what he was going to say already, but he said it anyway.

"I've really got to get my grades up if I want to graduate, you know," he said slowly, beginning to inch to the left to get around the group of guys. All of their faces hardened at his words. Jimmy made a disgusted sound and crossed his arms, too.

"When you joined the team, we thought maybe, I don't know, you'd actually play," Christian snapped. He took a menacing step forward. "It's bad enough that you never show up, but you're the best batter we've got, Dean. If you sucked, we wouldn't give a rat's ass if you came or didn't, but we need you. You joined the team for a reason. So get your ass down to the field, alright?"

Dean chuckled without any humor. His expression grew hard and he felt his hands bunch into fists. No sorry douchebag got to talk to him like that and get away with it. He couldn't let himself get into a fight, though. His dad would probably have a stroke if he heard Dean got caught fighting on school property. Dean reluctantly reined in his aggression and calmed himself down. These losers weren't worth the effort, anyway.

"Are you coming or what?" Walt asked, pulling Christian back into the fold.

Dean smirked. "You didn't ask nicely, so no."

"You really going to make that mistake, Winchester?" Johnny demanded. He looked like he wanted to take a swing at Dean's head, and Dean wanted him to. He could take the scrawny kid, easy, as long as he didn't star the fight.

"Or what?" Dean asked, almost playfully. "Go tell on me?"

Mark stepped forward and planted himself between Dean and the rest of the team. "Forget about it, guys." He glanced over his shoulder and eyed Dean darkly. "He's a lost cause. Let's go get ready."

Dean smiled at them all cheerfully as they headed back down the hallway the way they had come. He always did like Mark. He was a good guy. Dean watched as they all turned a corner, and noticed somebody standing idly at the end of the hall where the ballplayers disappeared.

"Hey, Zachariah, got a habit of lurking in dark corners, or what?" Dean laughed. The larger boy scowled at him and then disappeared in the same direction the hall as the rest of them. Dean turned back toward the library, chuckling, and remembered what he was heading there for. This was so much better than hanging around some lame baseball game. He smiled brightly as he walked into the quiet, nearly empty space. Castiel would be there soon enough, and he could barely wait.

It was bad enough that she had to face a whole period of biology with Sam, but this? Becky took a deep breath as class ended. Both Garth and Jess were sitting in front of her. She would have to walk by both of them to get out of the classroom, and the bell was going to ring any second now. What if they talked to her? What if they didn't? There was too much uncertainty. Becky was about to raise her hand and ask to go to the nurse so she could avoid the awkward questions when the bell finally did ring. Too late, now. Time to face the music.

Becky slowly gathered her things together, her eyes following Garth's and Jess's movements as they packed up, too. If she let them leave first, then maybe there wouldn't be any awkward conversation and they could all forget what had happened at lunch. They could pretend it never even happened.

She watched, astonished, as Jess left. She didn't once look back at Becky as she strolled out of the classroom, her blonde hair falling down her back like a fictional princess's would. Becky let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as Garth also stood up. He was about to follow the last group of students out the door when he stopped and turned around. He looked straight at Becky. She jumped up in surprise, dropping her books to the ground and letting out a little shriek.

Of course she couldn't catch a break.

Garth didn't hesitate when he bent down to help her gather her books and other loose papers. They didn't look at each other until everything was straightened into a neat pile. Then, they both stood back up and let an awkward silence fill the room. Garth handed back her stack of books and Becky readjusted the backpack strap on her shoulder. If he was going to say anything, now was the time. Becky wasn't planning on waiting forever.

"Look, Becky," he said. She waited patiently. "I just wanted to say sorry for this morning. And at lunch. You seem like a really nice girl; I never meant to offend you or anything."

Becky sighed. "I know."

His eyes opened wider and for a moment, Garth seemed to backtrack. "Oh… you do?"

She nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah. I overreacted."

"I—uh…."

"Can we just forget about it?" she asked, starting to walk out of the classroom. Garth followed, an easy smile spreading across his face. He seemed to smile a lot, Becky noticed. She liked that.

"Of course," he said as they entered the hallway. It was packed with people fighting to get home. It was finally the end of the day, after all.

"I'll see you around," Becky said as they started to get separated by the thick crowds of people. Garth said something in response, but it was lost in the din. She hoped that whatever he said was something good.

Becky felt so light as she walked to her locker. Her mom was probably waiting outside to pick her up. She had only a few weeks left of school before things started to wrap up. Her phone buzzed as she walked up to her locker, and when she took it out she saw that it was a text from Harry.

Forget Sam Winchester, here was a boy that actually paid attention to her. Becky smiled as she read what the text said. It was some dumb joke that Harry had read out of a book. She giggled more at the fact that he thought it was funny than the actual punch line. If this was how he always was, then Becky guessed that she'd be laughing a lot more from now on.

The walk down to the offices on the basement floor was quiet and lonely for Adam, but he didn't let that deter him or slow him down. The excitement of actually getting to have a full conversation with Tessa drove him on, and by the time he reached the guidance councilor's door, he was almost running. He forced himself to calm down before he raised his fist and knocked softly.

"Come in," came the immediate response.

Adam was surprised to see that Tessa wasn't in Mr. Morte's office yet, but there were two cushy chairs set up in front of his desk already.

"Ah, Adam," Mr. Morte greeted, standing up. "You're earlier than expected."

"I'm sorry, should I come back later?"

The guidance councilor sat back down and shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it. Come; sit. This is actually fortunate that you've come early. I'd love to talk about Tessa for a moment."

Adam sat down on one of the chairs and nodded. "Okay, then."

Mr. Morte pressed his hands together and rested his sharp chin on his fingertips. "Tessa has been coming to see me regularly since about midway through her freshman year. She struggles with a great many things, but I believe the worst is that she feels invisible. She feels cut off from everybody else in ways deeper than physical. I'm sure that these are some things that everybody can relate to once or twice in their lives, but for Tessa it is a constant thing."

"So why did you ask me to come today?" Adam asked, not really following.

"You see her. She isn't invisible to you any longer, and Tessa needs that desperately. She needs to know she isn't invisible anymore." Mr. Morte leaned forward. "I will never repeat this again to anyone, but Tessa has become somewhat of a soft spot for me. I care about her wellbeing, and I want her to feel comfortable in school. You need to be her anchor, Adam. Tie her to your community, and she won't need me as much anymore. Remind her that she belongs with them."

Adam blinked. "Oh, wow. Okay. I can do that."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Good. I had a feeling you were the right choice." He leaned back in his chair and raised his eyes to the door. Not a second later, a soft knock followed, and Adam twisted around in his chair.

"Come in, Tessa."

The door opened to reveal the dark-haired girl that Adam had been chasing all day. She stopped, looking apprehensive, when she saw Adam seated in the chair next to hers.

"Hey," he said when she closed the door behind her.

"Hi, Adam." Her apprehension melted into something that looked like excitement as she took the last chair. "What are you doing here?"

Mr. Morte's dark eyes glittered as he looked between the two teenagers. "He's here, Tessa, to have a conversation like we always have. I imagine that Adam would benefit from joining us today?"

She looked curiously at the guidance councilor. "Really?"

"Yes."

She smiled at Adam and he smiled back, and the office seemed to grow warmer, in a cozy kind of way.

"Good," she said.

Each step that brought him closer to the library made the growing tension in Castiel's gut worse and worse. This would have been a normal study session in the library for him if Jo hadn't said anything about Dean being interested in him…. Now everything felt more complicated. Was this meeting truly about reviewing The Merchant of Venice or was there some ulterior motive going on that Castiel couldn't discern? His mind was racing faster and faster, and by the time he reached the doors of the library Castiel had convinced himself that this was all a horrible idea and that he shouldn't go through with it.

And then he saw Dean sitting at a table by himself, sandy brown head bent over a textbook, and any reservations Castiel felt vanished. Why would he turn down this kind of opportunity? He may never get a chance like this to talk with Dean again.

With determination, Castiel sat down in the seat across from Dean and placed his bag on the floor with a dull thud. Dean looked up, not at all surprised, and smiled that easy smile that Castiel had seen so few times.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted. Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Why do you call me that?" The sound of his name shortened affectionately by Dean Winchester sent chills down Castiel's back, but he wasn't going to say that. He simply wanted to know if it was out of convenience that Dean had given him a nickname or if it was something else, much like Castiel wondering if the true purpose of this study session was to study. He felt his heart rate pick up again at the thought.

Dean chucked and closed the textbook he had been reading. "Uh… I don't really know. "

"Oh."

"Yeah," Dean said slowly. He stretched his arms behind him and glanced around the library. To Castiel, it seemed like they were completely alone, excepting the librarian, but she typically minded her own business. Dean laughed and dropped his hands onto the table.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, twisting to see where he was looking. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Jo and that girl you were sitting with at lunch were staring at us through the windows on those doors." He pointed. "They disappeared as soon as I saw them. Suddenly I feel like we're in a fish tank." He laughed again and grinned at Castiel. It was the kind of smile that was unique, unlike the ones he gave to teachers when he lied about doing homework or to girls whose invitations to parties he was turning down. This was a smile that was reserved for Castiel only, and it made him feel all warm and cold at the same time.

"Why would they be watching us?" he managed to ask. It was surprising that he could get out a full sentence, he felt so flustered.

Dean chuckled again and glanced back at the window. "They've been scheming about this all day, I think."

"Scheming?"

"Yeah, they think they're evil masterminds like Dr. Evil or something." He snorted and glanced at Castiel. Castiel assumed that there was some sort of joke in there that he didn't understand. "Dr. Evil? The Austin Powers movies?"

"I've never heard of them."

"Wow, really?" He smiled somewhat suggestively, and Castiel noticed those green eyes flick down to his lips and then back up again. He felt his cheeks redden slightly, and he hoped desperately it didn't show. "We're going to have to change that."

"O—okay," Castiel stammered. He was sure now that he wouldn't be able to complete a full sentence. He had no idea how these social cues worked most of the time, but it seemed clear that Dean Winchester just proposed a date of some kind. Castiel normally couldn't read people, but he could read Dean's message loud and clear.

"Good. So maybe we should get to some Shakespeare," Dean said. He dropped his used copy of The Merchant of Venice on the table with a sharp sound. Castiel jumped in his seat and blushed again. Right. English. That was what they were here for, after all. Castiel brought out his own copy of the play and opened it to the passages they read in class.

"Where do you want to start?"

Dean sighed down at his book. "You know, I haven't really understood much so I'm going to let you take the lead on this."

Castiel hid his smile as he flicked to the beginning of the first act. Maybe he could give Dean a brief summary of what had happened thus far. He began explaining Antonio's plight with his ships and Portia's fate with the tree caskets, and Dean looked captivated. Castiel told the story and fell deeper and deeper into Dean's eyes, and he knew he was lost for good.

"What's happening? I can't see shit from here. Castiel's head is blocking the way," Jo growled from her position in the window over from Charlie. Charlie rolled her eyes and smiled.

"It looks like they just started reading. You should see the way Dean is staring at Castiel. He's head over heels."

"Oh my god, switch sides with me," Jo demanded. Before Charlie could move over, Jo grabbed her and pushed her aside roughly. Charlie smirked as Jo pressed her face to the window, barely containing her excitement. It was touching how much she cared about Dean's happiness. Charlie wished that she had a friend as close as that.

"Wow, you're right. He's practically drooling," Jo laughed. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't do anything to get involved. They seem to have things basically figured out on their own. Who would have known?" She tore her gaze away from the two boys to share a laugh with Charlie, and then she was back to monitoring them.

"Hey… Charlie?"

Charlie spun around and saw Ed standing there, looking very confused. Charlie smiled and waved him over.

"Jo, Ed. Ed, Jo." Jo waved absently at the sophomore and continued her watch. Charlie rolled her eyes at her and waved Ed over again. He approached cautiously, eyeing Jo warily. "We're just making some people fall in love," she explained.

"By staring at them?" Ed raised an eyebrow and took a look through the window that Charlie was standing by. "Who are you talking about? There's only two guys—" He paused, and Charlie could see the gears turning in his head. It didn't take long for them to click into place. "Oh," he said softly.

"Yeah. Wait a minute, weren't you supposed to be in the library, meeting with Mr. Singer for a paper?"

Ed shook his head. "We ended up meeting in his office."

"Oh, cool."

"So we can go whenever you want to."

Charlie glanced at Dean and Castiel and Jo staring at them. "I think I should probably hang around here for a little while longer. Just to be sure everything works out. I promised Castiel that I would get him into Dean Winchester's pants, anyways. So I'm here to the end. Do you mind?"

"Nope." Ed leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, where he pulled out his phone and started playing a game. Good, at least he wouldn't be bored. Charlie turned back to the task at hand just in time to see Castiel reach across the table and brush a finger under one of Dean's eyes.

"What the fuck was that?" Jo whispered, her breath fogging up the glass. "What the fuck was that? What did Castiel just do?"

Charlie shook her head. "Maybe it was an eyelash or something."

"People don't just do that."

"I feel like Castiel does," Charlie admitted. He wasn't the brightest when it came to social stuff. Maybe he thought getting other people's eyelashes for them was a commonplace thing, and not something super intimate. At least Dean didn't pull back or tell him not to. That was a really good sign.

"Hello again, Harvelle," a new voice said. All three of the people at the library doors spun around to see Michael and Zachariah filling up most of the hallway. They were clearly not there by chance. Charlie narrowed her eyes and took a few steps away from the doors to the library. Jo stayed where she was, a mixture of fear and fury on her face.

"What do you want?" Charlie barked. She was having none of their shit right now. Not after all that had happened today. Obviously Michael did something to Jo earlier, and it didn't take much imagination for Charlie to guess what it was. Michael called Castiel heinous words earlier. She shouldn't have let that go, either. Last time she kicked in the knee. This time she wasn't going to be so merciful.

"Get out of the way," Zachariah said. He stepped forward and came toe to toe with Charlie, hulking over her by a good six or seven inches. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Make me."

Michael pulled Zachariah back a bit with one hand, producing a camera with the other. "If it's your precious boys in there you're worried about, don't fret. We aren't going to beat them up or anything."

"Yeah, right."

"I mean it." Michael lifted up the camera, trying and failing to look like he meant what he said. Charlie could see him barely holding back cruel laughter. "I just want to get their picture."

"And do what with it? Spread gossip? Basically ruin their lives?" She crossed her arms and planted herself firmly in the middle of the hallway. "I don't think so."

Michael laughed bitterly and took a few steps forward. "Move," he said softly, "or I'll make you move. Your choice."

Charlie chose option three. Gathering all of her strength, she thrust her foot forward and right into the fork of Michael's legs. Her aim was true and the impact was hard. She smiled victoriously as he fell to his knees, hands clutching at his groin and a strained, excruciated expression on his typically composed face. Charlie raised her eyebrows at Zachariah, inviting him for his turn, but the larger boy had his priorities straight. He turned tail and fled down the hallway, abandoning the ringleader. Charlie crouched down by Michael and leaned toward him.

"If you try to bother Dean or Castiel or any of my friends one more time, there will be plenty more where that came from."

Michael eyed her darkly, but it was clear to everybody who had the upper hand, here. He stood up when Charlie did, and the three of them watched as he hobbled down the hallway after Zachariah, hands still at his crotch. Charlie returned to her friends, where Ed was staring at her with a look of pure awe and Jo was nodding in approval.

"That was badass," she commented. "He had it coming."

"He definitely had it coming."

"Thank you," Jo whispered as soon as both girls had resumed their positions. Charlie knew how deep that thanks went, and she nodded as a way of saying 'you're welcome'. She didn't want Jo to feel uncomfortable with anything, so she let the topic go.

They resumed staring at Dean and Castiel; their heads bent close together over one copy of a book. Charlie sighed as she watched them fall deeper and deeper in love, knowing she was seeing something that only happened once in a lifetime. It was the kind of thing that books were written about and movies were made about and fans cried about. It was magic and real and it was all for Dean and Castiel. She was glad that she could at least see a part of it.