Since he found me in Baltimore, I couldn't keep track of how many times I've wanted to punch Crowley right in his face. However, since he just shoved food down my throat and put another applesauce pouch in my bag for me, I will save my punches for another day. What can I say? I'm a simple girl. I can run on chicken nuggets and demon blood and be perfectly content. Although, once he drops me back off at school again, I wouldn't mind burning him alive and watching his skin peel off his bones.

"Alright, sweetheart," Crowley took my keys from me, "I'll be waiting for you after school right out front. Do you think you can make it until then?"

"Could you not?" I grumbled under my breath, "I still have to deal with these people today and probably tomorrow, too. Dial it back."

"What?" he switched back to his usual tone, "Can't I have a little fun, too?"

"Not at my expense," I stipulated, "I have to go back to class. Can you behave yourself until then?"

"No promises." There he was. There's the Crowley I know and love.

"I'll see you later," I started walking back toward the building.

"I love you, Charlotte!" he called after me. And there's the dick I knew and mildly tolerated, "Make Daddy proud!"

Repeatedly, I stabbed the voodoo doll of Crowley I made in my mind. So much for me having a decent reputation here. I didn't need to be pegged as Daddy's little girl. Never have been. Never will be. And I didn't need that kind of attention. But I was definitely kicking Crowley's ass in the parking lot after school. That was a damn promise.

For my first class of the afternoon, I had art. Why the hell would Crowley have picked arty for me? Did he see some potential in me that I didn't? No matter. I always heard art could be therapeutic. Maybe it'll get me to mellow out. Along with a quick hit of Crowley's special brand of applesauce. I popped the top of one of the pouches and downed it in one heavy gulp. Not exactly as good as warm and fresh from the tap, but for now, it'll do.

"You know," a familiar voice spoke behind me, "We really need to stop running into each other like this, Charlie."

"Hey," I smiled, offering Seth the empty seat next to me, "Look, Seth…"

"You remembered my name!" he awed.

"And you cut me off," I scolded him.

"Sorry," Seth covered himself, "Go on."

"About earlier," I continued, "Right now, my dad's kind of controlling everything and he's…

"A dick?" he teased.

"Yeah," I giggled, "If that wasn't the nail on the head. I get where he's coming from, though."

"I wouldn't have guessed that was your dad, though," Seth gave me a sketchbook, "You must look like your mom."

"Actually," I bit the inside of my cheek. Those were Uncle Bobby's words coming out of Seth's mouth. I could damn near hear them in his voice.

"Oh," he stopped himself, "Is your mom a no-go subject? I'm sorry. God, I am sucking today. Can you forget you met me and we start over tomorrow?"

"Nope," I shook my head, "My mind is a steel trap. I forget nothing."

"Well, damn," Seth grabbed his sketchbook out of his back, "My first impression sucked, though. Let me try again."

"If it helps you sleep at night," I went into my own bag and got another applesauce, "We've never met in this class before."

"You make a valid point," he agreed, "In that case…Hi. I'm Seth. I'm a Scorpio. I play in a band on the weekends. And I'd love to get to know you a little more."

"Alright," I let him have that one, "Your first impression was better this time around."

"What about you?" Seth asked, "Aren't you going to redo yours?"

"Fair enough," I had to think on my feet, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Seth. I'm Charlotte. People call me Charlie. I'm an Aries, I think. On the weekends, I don't do anything, but I used to jam with a band in a town about twenty minutes from here."

"Really?" he perked up, "What'd you play?"

"I didn't play an instrument," I admitted, "I sang lead vocals."

"Nice," Seth applauded, "Maybe you could come hang out with my band and me sometime."

"Maybe." If I lasted in town that long. Absentmindedly, I doodled on the blank first page of that sketchbook I had handed to me, taking the occasional sip from my applesauce pouch. Every swallow felt like a bathtub for my insides.

"You know," he watched over my shoulder, "You're not bad. Did you take art classes at your old school, too?"

"No," I kept working on a little tree growing up from the bottom of the page, "I've never taken any art classes."

"A natural talent, then?" Seth applauded, "I'm jealous. Be careful, though. You're not the only natural talent in this class."

"What?" I took his sketchbook from him, thumbing through the pages, "Are you one, too?"

"No," he clarified, nodding toward a girl with long, dark hair sitting by herself in the corner. She looked familiar, yet I knew I've never met her a day in my life, "She is, though. That's Christina. I'd actually be careful around her these days."

"Why?" Found you.

"She used to draw My Little Pony characters, fairies, elves," Seth told me, "I mean, this girl practically radiated sunshine and rainbows. But lately, she's just by herself. A lot of her drawings have caught the attention of the school counselor. Rumor has it, she's gotten herself into some sort of cult thing with devil worship or some crap like that. But that's just how it works around here. People get bored. They make up stories."

Or she's become a TV dinner for a group of vampires. Which one is more likely? Ok, the cult thing. But for those of us that know better, teenage girls have some weird fantasies and a lot of vampires are preying on that kind of thing these days. It's a mixture of how they hunt and how they get their kicks. Thanks, Twilight. Not that Seth wasn't a sweetheart, but I needed to make a new friend.

"I bet I can get through to her," I figured, "Hold on."

"I hope she doesn't cast some kind of hex on you," he jabbed.

"I'm protected," I pulled my aegerine out of my shirt and walked over to her, "Hi."

"Hello," Christina spoke meekly. She looked exhausted.

"I'm Charlie," I introduced myself, "Can we talk?"

"Sure."

I wasn't going to get too much out of this chick, was I? Come on, Lena. You're a charismatic individual. Hell, you never paid for a drink when you were still living in Hartford. And how did you pay for those drinks? With a cute smile and a flash of leg. But something tells me that's not going to work on her. I looked down at her sketchbook where she had doodled a reaper with a poisoned apple in its hand.

"Your drawings are really cool," I praised, "Can I see some more?"

"Yeah," she slid her sketchbook toward me and I could see her decent into madness play out in her drawings. The first few pages looked like a Care Bear's wet dream, but as they went on, the Care Bears started going through a phase. And then, they did turn into occult symbols. Demons, devils, dragons, fire, brimstone. From what I remembered, Hell looked nothing like this.

"You know," I suggested, suppressing the bile in the back of my throat, "You should come over to my house after school. I'd love to pick your brain."

All of a sudden, Christina got really skittish, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," she was trying to think of an excuse. I could see it in her eyes, "Daddy wouldn't like it. I have to help take care of my family."

"Ok," I let her go, "I understand. My dad can be kind of a hardass, too."

"Thank you."

He's got her calling him Daddy, too? That's Crowley levels of creepy. Such a shame. This girl seemed really sweet. And by the way Seth was talking about her, she was before she had vamps treating her like their fridge. I took Christina's sketchbook and doodled a few little flowers and wrote down my number.

"If you need anything," I took her hand, "I just gave you my number. Don't hesitate to call me."

"But I just met you..." Christina grew skeptical, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I guess I'm just a nice person," I gave her a smile, "It's a curse."

The bell rang and she hurried her books back in her bag, "It was nice meeting you, Charlie."

"You, too," I let her run off to her next class and I regrouped with Seth, "See? No hexes. No curses. Perfectly fine."

"I've never seen Christina so social before," Seth gasped, "How'd you do it?"

"Simple psychology," I told him, "A girl is more likely to open up to another girl. Why do you think slumber parties are a thing?"

"I'm still kind of worried about her," he admitted, "I've practically grown up with her. We were in the same grade, the same classes. Ever since third grade. I tried talking to her, but she'd just push me away. And now, you're doing that thing to me! You're the witch, aren't you?"

"I'm not casting any hexes either," I rolled my eyes, "No witchcraft is being performed here."

"How do you know?" Seth asked, "How do you know for sure?"

"You're a dork," I gave him a shove, "That's how I know."

"Certifiable from what I understand," he shrugged, "But who knows?"

I liked him. Seth was ok in my book. If I wasn't trying to avoid them like the plague, I'd introduce him to the boys. I could only imagine how hellish that would be for him. Sam and Dean would probably put him through the wringer. The whole intentions with me talk and all the cliche crap John Hughes wrote about. But for now, I had bigger fish to fry than hypotheticals. Once the final bell rang, I started heading to the front of the school. Unfortunatetly, I couldn't be left alone. Why? I'm a...relatively good person. I don't deserve this. Who did I piss off in a past life to get Rachael dropped in my lap again?

"Charlie!" she chimed, probably late for either a student council meeting or her horseback riding lesson.

"Hi, Rachael," I grumbled, getting that stabbing in my mind feeling again. Why won't she leave me alone.

"Where were you at lunch today?" Rachael asked, "We missed you."

"We?"

"Everyone," she pouted, "We were waiting for you. And I couldn't find you anywhere."

"I left campus," I kept my cool, "I went to lunch with my dad."

"Someone said they saw you with Seth Lincoln," Rachael spat his name out like bad sushi, "What would you be doing with him?"

"We have English and art together," I told her, "We were talking and then, my dad got me. End of story."

"Do you like him?" she wondered, getting in my face.

"He's alright," I backed away from her.

"You should stay away from him," Rachael warned, "He's so weird. And he plays in a band."

"So?"

"So?" she repeated, "So, he probably has no plans for the future except for music and there's no way that's going to work out."

"Not necessarily," I defended, "Have you ever heard him play?"

"Have you?"

"Fair," I settled her, "But you're selling him a little short, don't you think?"

"Musicians are so dirty, though," she cringed.

"Rachael," I shut her up, "I'm a musician. I used to hang around a band all the time and I played with them on a semi-regular basis. Clearly, you haven't met many of us."

"Charlotte!" Saved by the King of Hell, "Come now, darling! We need to go."

"There's my ride," I smirked, "Hopefully, we can do lunch tomorow."

God, I hated people like her. So quick to judge without even getting to know someone. What a bitch. Just because we don't live in her ivory towers and play in her country clubs doesn't make us any less of a person. I left her to her devices and started heading back for my car. Without a second thought, I snatched the keys out of Crowley's hand and pulled away from the school.

"So?" he asked, "How was your day?"

"Nope," I shot him down, "We're not doing this today, Crowley. We're not faking the loving family crap."

"Are you trying to say we're not the loving family?" Crowley awed, "Lena, I'm hurt."

"But you don't have feelings."

"Yes, I do," he assured, "Now, what do you know?"

"I met Christina today," I beamed, "She's definitely the one. Real lethargic, hardly talked, drew demons."

"Any of mine?"

"No," I rolled my eyes, "But I made a new friend. And right now, that's all that matters."

"What could you get out of her?" Crowley wondered.

"Not very much," I pouted, "But that's what tomorrow's for. We'll rest up, regroup, and kick ass again in the morning."

"You should have that on your business cards," he teased, "But while we have a little bit of downtime…"

"No," I knew what he was going to say. I could feel it deep in my bones, "Not doing it."

"I was going to suggest ice cream," he covered his ass, "But if you feel that strongly about it."

"Bull," I saw through him, "You were going to tell me to see the boys, weren't you?"

"They do miss you, Lena," Crowley took my hand, "It won't kill you to let them know you're alive."

"Do they know I'm with you?"

"No."

"Good," I drove back to the hotel, "Let's keep it that way."

A/N: My hands burn like hell, guys. I've been busting my ass for the past three hours to get this done and I'm so sorry it's up so late. But to hit the main bullet points here. Crowley's a little shit. Lena's done with him. Seth is a doll. And Christina's going to be Lena's new best friend. Things are about to start taking turns and I'm so damn tired…See you next chapter! xx