December 9th - December 13th, 2008

Sam stumbled upon a case about a typically docile teenage girl named April, who beat up a popular cheerleader and gave her a swirly that resulted in death. The article said that April claimed to have been possessed by a demon.

Sam and Dean agreed that it sounded like it could be demon possession. I was skeptical. Maybe the girl just finally had enough and went way too far, so she had to blame something. They decided to go to the town anyway, so Sam went into the mental facility she was being kept in and questioned her as if he were working there.

A little while later, Sam came back and joined us in the Impala.

"So?" Dean asked.

"I think she's telling the truth. I mean, the way she talked about being there mentally, but not physically... kind of sounds like demonic possession to me," Sam said.

Dean furrowed his brow. "Kind of?"

"She didn't see any black smoke or smell sulfur," Sam said.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it's not a demon. Maybe Maddi's right, kids can be vicious."

"Well, I mean, we're already here. Might as well check out the school," Sam said, trying to hold back excitement.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Right. The school."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Truman High, home of the Bombers," Dean said.

Sam shook his head. "What's your point?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, we went there, like... for a month, a million years ago. Why are you so jazzed to go back?"

"I'm not. I just think it's worth looking into," Sam said defensively.

"All right, well, what's our cover? FBI? Homeland Security? Swedish exchange students?" Dean asked.

"Don't worry. I took care of it as soon as I found out we were coming," Sam said.

"Okay." Dean shrugged, and we drove off.

The next morning, I sat in the back of the Impala with my arms crossed. "Nope, I'm not doing that."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"I refuse," I said.

"Give me a good reason," Sam said.

"Because I hate, with a capital H... hate kids my age," I said.

Sam shook his head. "That's not true, you're just being dramatic."

I nodded. "You're right, I don't hate everyone my age, but more often than not, I do. If I go in there, I can guarantee you that every nine out of ten of them will be a douchebag. And I don't have time or patience for that bullshi—"

"All right, all right..." Dean interrupted. "Just give it a shot, and then we'll see how you feel when we get back to the motel."

"Oh, shut up, Dean, you're going to be in your glory, and you know it," I snapped.

Dean just shrugged and nodded.

"All right." I sat forward and pointed in Sam's face. "I will do this, but I will not like it. I will not be doing any homework for as long as we have to be here because I think it's a waste of time and is ultimately pointless in life, especially my life. I will skip classes if I think they are stupid, or I do not like the teacher. I will not bite my tongue if someone disrespects me regardless of age. Lastly, I definitely will not promise that I won't punch someone if they deserve it."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

Dean smacked Sam on the back. "We've got an angsty teen on our hands." He laughed.

I rolled my eyes, got out of the Impala, and looked up at the giant building that would be my school for hopefully less than a week. I sighed and started walking toward the door.

"Hey, wait..." Sam ran up with a backpack he had bought and packed for me. "You forgot this."

I glared at him and took it. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to go in with you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I got this. I'll probably see you around at some point."

Sam nodded. "All right. I forged your school records, so hopefully, there won't be an issue. Have a good day."

I shrugged. "I'm not promising anything."

Sam smirked. "Right. I got that."

I turned and headed into the school. Luckily, the office was right in the front, so I walked in and up to the front desk.

An older grumpy looking woman chomping on gum peered at me over her glasses. "Yes?"

"I'm new. I just need my class list," I said.

"Name?" she asked, while still staring at me over her glasses.

"Maddison Jett," I said.

She began typing for longer than would be expected as she continued to periodically glare at me over her glasses. "Okay, just need to print it out." She hit a button, and as the printer started printing ungodly slow, she went back and forth between staring at me over her glasses and reading a newspaper.

I looked around awkwardly as if I was looking at the decorations on the wall. When I would make eye contact with her from time to time, I gave her a small smile only to be glared at in return.

I laughed uncomfortably. "So, this weather, huh?"

"Yeah." She chomped on her gum and then got up and waddled over to the printer, grabbing my list. She groaned as she sat back down and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said and looked over it, noticing that gym was my first class.

What sadistic person schedules someone to have gym right in the morning? There better be showers in this school, but then again, I might be off the hook because Dean was the substitute gym teacher, Coach Roth. I sighed and turned to leave and then realized I needed something else, so I turned back.

The woman chomped on her gum and peered at me over her glasses again. "Yes?"

"Do you have a map of the school?" I asked.

"You could make some friends and ask around if you're lost," she said as she chomped away.

I shook my head. "No, I'm good."

"Don't like friends, huh? Girl after my own heart," she said and then turned back to her computer and started typing.

I laughed uncomfortably. At that moment, I realized I needed to lighten up about this whole experience.

"Okay, just need to print it out," she said and hit a button.

I groaned quietly, not realizing that it wasn't something she could just pick up and hand to me.

She observed me over her glasses as she read her newspaper, but then the printer started whirring. "Out of paper." She got up and waddled over to the printer again.

I screamed internally, wishing I had just walked out when I had the chance.

Finally, the printer started up again, and she walked back over to her chair and groaned as she sat down. Only to have to get back up and waddle over to the printer for the third time, to get my map.

"Here," she said as she handed it to me and groaned as she sat down.

"Thanks," I said and quickly walked out, letting the door close behind me. "Oh my god, that hurt my soul."

I examined the map and figured out where I needed to go. As I walked through the halls, I spotted Sam in his janitor uniform, and we subtly nodded at each other as I passed him.

Finally, I reached the gym and opened one of the giant double doors leading into it. To my horror, when I walked in, Dean was standing there in knee-high socks, short red shorts, a white polo, and a red headband. Everyone else in the class was wearing the same uniform, and they all stared at me.

"You're late," Dean said.

"I'm new. I wasn't sure where I was going," I said as I glared at him.

"I'm new too, and I wasn't late." Dean smirked.

I rolled my eyes. "Kay, well, sorry."

"You should be." He tossed me a uniform. "Throw this on, I just took a guess on the size."

I walked off to the bathroom and changed, thankfully he got my size right, and I walked back out and stood in a line in front of Dean with the rest of the group.

"Thanks for joining us," Dean said as he stood there with a red ball in his hands. "As I was telling the rest of the group, my name is Coach Roth, and today, you will have the honor of playing one of the greatest games ever invented. A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule... dodge."

He threw the ball at one of my classmate's stomach, but he didn't dodge it, and the kid hunched over and grabbed his stomach, groaning on impact.

Dean's eyes widened. "Sorry."

Another boy raised his hand. "Uh, Substitute Coach Roth...?"

"Yes?" Dean asked.

"Ms. Boudreaux never let us play dodgeball," the boy said.

"Well, Ms. B's in Massachusetts getting married, so we're playing," Dean said.

"She says it's dangerous," the boy whined.

Dean blew his whistle. "Take a lap!"

The boy gasped. "But—"

Dean blew his whistle again, and the kid jumped and started running.

He tossed the ball into the arms of one of the girls in the group. "Go nuts." Then he walked away.

I looked over to see what he was doing and realized Sam had walked into the gym.

"He's cute, isn't he?" someone asked, right next to me.

"What?" I asked as I turned to see a girl smiling right in front of me.

"Coach Roth, he's kinda hot." The girl smiled and stared over at him.

I shrugged. "Sure."

The girl giggled. "Oh, come on, look at him."

"Oh, I've spent enough time with him to know that he's definitely not my type," I said.

The girl shrugged. "Good, then more for me." She gazed over at Dean again. Then she turned back to me. "I'm Emma, what's your name?"

"Maddi," I said.

She smiled at me. "Come hang out with us," she said and then turned toward the bleachers where a group of girls was sitting on the floor, watching the boys play dodgeball.

When we joined them, Emma looked at me. "Everyone, this is Maddi, be nice."

One of the other girls turned to me with a big smile. "Hi, I'm Claire."

I smiled back at her. "Hi."

"What's your next class?" she asked.

"Uh..." I thought for a second. "Home-Ec, I think."

"Us too!" Claire and Emma squealed together.

"We'll totally walk with you," Emma said, excitedly.

"Okay, thanks." I smiled.

We all turned to watch the boys play dodgeball, but then the boy who Dean had made run got hit directly in the face and kept running as he held his nose.

"Good hustle, Colby! Walk it off!" Dean yelled.

Colby jogged over to us and sat with the group of girls.

"Aw, Colby, are you okay?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Colby said, "It's sloppy-joe day."

Dean blew his whistle and pointed, shouting instructions at the kids playing dodgeball.

"Ugh," Colby groaned. "That guy is such a jerk, he points and tells us what to do, but won't actually get out there and play with us."

I shrugged. "We'll see." I stood up. "Hey, Coach Roth! How about a one-on-one deathmatch, me, and you."

"Oh, yeah, right. You've been sitting around the whole class. I'll save you the embarrassment." Dean scoffed.

"What are you? Chicken?!" I yelled.

Dean smirked. "All right, you're on."

Dean and I stepped onto the court, and everyone else cleared out and stood around us in a circle. A boy tossed Dean a ball, and then another threw me one.

"Here, Colby." Dean tossed his whistle to Colby. "Start us off."

Dean and I stepped back away from the line equally and glared at each other while we waited for Colby to blow the whistle. Then he did, and Dean faked a throw, causing me to jump out of the way, and the whole class gasped. I watched him carefully, and then he whipped the ball at me, and I jumped over it and whipped mine at his shoulder, hitting him hard. The whole class went wild, and Colby blew on the whistle like crazy. Dean and I laughed and gave each other a high-five.

"That was awesome." Dean smiled proudly. "Nice arm."

"He totally has the hots for you," Emma said, as her, Claire, and I walked down the hallway together.

I held myself back from gagging. "Ew, I hope not."

"Oh my god, what do you have against him?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Well, for starters, he's a lot older than us, and he reminds me of one of my brothers."

"Ew, really?" Emma asked. "That's creepy then." She turned into a classroom, and the three of us sat at a table together.

The room had pictures of cakes, muffins, Thanksgiving dinners, and posters of temperatures different meats should be cooked to. Each table had a blender, food processor, sink, dish rack, stovetop, and oven.

Not gonna lie. This school was pretty swanky.

"All right, class, is everyone excited?" A woman with a sticky sweet voice and an overall bubbly disposition walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Yes, Miss White." Erupted quietly and out of sync throughout the class.

"Aw, come on, guys. That was just sad. Are you guys excited?!" she yelled happily.

"Yes, Miss White!" everyone yelled.

She smiled brightly. "Good because, near the end of class, we are going to bake off giant chocolate chip cookies."

There were random, quiet "yays," and almost everyone was smiling.

"But first, as you can see, I placed a recipe on each of your tables. Now, most of you may not know what pesto is, but it's a classic. It can be used in a variety of different ways, including as a dip, spread, topping, or even a sauce. I bought fresh bread this morning, and I will cook off some pasta for you to test out your pesto when you are finished." Miss White smiled at all of us. "Okay, everyone, grab your partners and get started. And remember..." She smiled with a finger up. "I grade on effort, not outcome, so don't be scared to make mistakes."

As Miss White turned to her own station, the whole class started talking and laughing as we got started.

"This is going to be so easy, guys," Claire said, "My mom makes pesto all the time." She shrugged. "I think it's disgusting, but she's like addicted to the stuff."

Emma nodded and smirked. "Okay, show us."

"All you have to do is throw this stuff in here." Claire grabbed a bowl of something green and leafy, garlic, and some sort of nut, and dumped them in the food processor, and put the top on. "Then just hit start." She pressed the buttons, and the machine started to slice through the ingredients.

Suddenly, the back of my bra was snapped, and I turned to see a kid looking at me smugly as he walked away.

Emma groaned and rolled her eyes. "Don't let him bother you. That's Richard, but everyone calls him Dick because he is one."

I smirked. "Does he know that's why everyone calls him that?"

Emma shook her head. "No, he's also an idiot."

Then our food processor started making a grinding noise and jiggling around on the table.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Claire grabbed onto the machine and clutched it to her chest to try and make it stop jiggling. "Miss White! Miss White! Our machine is possessed!"

"Claire! Just shut it off, you dummy!" Emma yelled and reached over to press the off button.

Claire took a deep breath. "Oh wow, that was kind of scary. I'm bad under pressure."

Miss White joined us at the table. "Claire, we've talked about what we should do when something doesn't go the way we thought it would, haven't we?" She smiled happily.

Claire sighed. "I know, take a deep breath and think it out. I'm sorry Miss White."

"It's okay, sweety. Now let's see what went wrong." Miss White pulled the food processor over to her and opened the lid, to reveal an extremely thick paste. "Well, first, you filled it past the fill line, which can make it malfunction on its own. So, girls, what should we do?"

Emma grabbed a spatula and a bowl. "Take some out." She scooped some of the mixture out into the bowl.

Miss White smiled. "Excellent! Now, doesn't this look a little thick to you?"

I grabbed the recipe. "Oh, yeah, we forgot to add the oil."

"Yes, awesome job, ladies. Five extra points for problem-solving." Miss White smiled and walked away.

A moment later, a boy started screaming as the sound of another food processor went crazy. We all turned to see that one kid had shoved another kid's hand into it.

"Holy crap!" Emma screamed.

The whole room erupted in screams and cries, and Claire passed out. I ran over and tackled the kid to the ground, pinning him to the floor as Miss White ran past and grabbed the boy who had been injured.

"Stupid jock," the kid said, showing no emotion. Then he went still, and a thick black goo dripped from his eyes and down his face, and he looked around the room, confused. "What— What happened?"

After that, the principal allowed the school to be released early, except for Miss White and a few of the students who had been close to the incident, including me. Unfortunately, I was no help with the questioning because I only helped break it up, so the police and principle let me leave. I walked out of the school and down the street to the Impala, where Sam and Dean waited for me.

"How was your first day of school?" Dean asked.

"Eventful," I said.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

I shook my head. "I really don't know. We were making pesto, and then next thing I know, the kid had someone else's hand shoved into a food processor."

"Did you bring any home?" Dean asked.

I rolled my eyes. "That's not really the point. Look, I tackled the kid, but it didn't seem like he was all there."

"Obviously." Dean scoffed.

I shook my head. "No, that's not what I mean. It was like he didn't know what was going on, but when he snapped out of it, this weird black liquid dripped out of his eyes."

Sam and Dean gave each other a look.

"How do you feel about going back to school tomorrow?" Dean asked.

The next morning, I went to my locker and was greeted by Richard, leaning up against the locker next to me. "Hey."

I opened my locker, blocking his face, and put my jacket inside. Then I closed my locker.

"Hey," he said again, trying to sound suave.

"Oh, you're still here," I said.

"Get lost, creep," Emma said as she and Claire walked up to us, wearing cheerleading outfits.

Richard rolled his eyes, and as he walked by, he snapped the back of my bra again. I turned and glared at him.

"Just ignore him, Maddi," Emma said.

"That doesn't annoy you?" I asked.

Emma shrugged. "He's a guy, they're going to do what they want."

I furrowed my brow at her.

"Just move on, okay!" She giggled and rolled her eyes. "Okay, so we have to go to a stupid assembly. let's all sit together."

"An assembly?" I asked.

Claire nodded. "It's a non-violence assembly. Because of what happened yesterday. What kind of a freak does that?"

I shrugged. "Sure, yeah, he way overreacted, but maybe he had a reason."

Claire and Emma stared at me in shock.

I shrugged. "Just forget it."

"That kid hurt Dave Simmons, our starting quarterback, president of the student council, and one of the kindest people you would ever meet." Emma glared at me. "He didn't. Have. A reason."

I glared back at her, starting to realize that I wasn't sure of who I had befriended.

"Okay, guys chill out, we're going to be late for the assembly," Claire said.

Emma smiled. "Okay, let's go." She giggled and wrapped her arm around mine. "You should totally join the cheer team. We would have so much fun."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure." I fake smiled at her.

In the auditorium, we found seats in the corner of the room, where it was darker. Then a bunch of boys in letterman jackets and a few other girls in cheerleading uniforms joined us. Emma turned to a boy, and they just started making out, nudging into me every once in a while.

"She's so cool," Claire whispered, "She always gets all the guys."

I leaned over toward her and whispered, "Why do you hang out with her?"

"What do you mean?" Claire asked. "We've been friends since kindergarten, she's the reason I'm on the cheer squad, she's the reason I have friends, she's the reason people like me."

I shook my head. "Claire, you're the reason all those things happened to you, not someone else."

She thought for a second and then turned back to the stage where the principle was now talking.

"All right, kids, everyone settle down," the principal said, and the room started to quiet. "Now, we had an unfortunate event take place yesterday."

All of the kids in the letterman jackets started booing.

"Quiet down. Quiet down now," the principal said, and the room hushed again. "Unfortunately, our starting quarterback Dave Simmons—"

"Yeah, Dave! Whoop! Whoop!" one of the guys yelled behind me.

The principal cleared his throat. "Was part of the incident and will not be able to finish out the season."

The boos started again, and I rolled my eyes. This was supposed to be a non-violence assembly, but instead, they were more worried about their football season? I don't get the priorities of normal people.

"So, we gathered everyone here today to make sure everyone knows that shoving someone's arm into a food processor is not a healthy display of anger," the principal said, "We want to encourage students to speak out about the issues they are dealing with, whether that be to a guidance counselor, teacher, parent, or even your principal. Due to the circumstances, anyone in Home-Ec will be taking a study hall in its place, and the room will be off-limits until the police are finished with their investigation." He clicked something in his hand, and a white screen came down behind him. "Now, we will watch a few short movies, to teach you kids, how to handle your anger."

After a while, I told Claire I needed to use the bathroom and got out of there. I was more than happy to leave, after being constantly nudged and hit from Emma and her boyfriend making out and watching the ungodly cheesy anger management videos.

I walked out of the room and found Sam and Dean whispering to each other over an EMF meter in the hallway.

"Hey... what are you guys doing?" I whispered as I walked up to them.

"You shouldn't be around us," Dean whispered back.

I shrugged. "It's fine. The assembly is still going. I snuck out."

"How is it anyway?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Awful. Did you guys find anything out about that black stuff?"

Dean nodded. "It was ectoplasm."

Sam nodded. "Which only comes from a seriously pissed-off spirit. It's got to be ghost possession."

"Yeah, but that's pretty rare," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but it happens. I mean, they get angry enough, they can take control of a person's body."

"All right, so, what? We got a ghost in the building?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, but where? I mean, there's no EMF. Maybe we could find out who it is, at least. You know, check and see if somebody died bloody around here or something," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "Way ahead of you. I had to break into the principal's office to get this." He held up a file. "Oh, and FYI, three of the cheerleaders are legal. Guess which ones."

I smacked Dean. "Stop."

Dean sighed and unfolded a paper he pulled out of his pocket. "So, there was only one death on campus. It was a suicide back in '98. Some kid named Barry Cook."

Sam sighed sadly.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "I knew him. How did he die?"

"He slit his wrists in the first-floor girls' bathroom," Dean said.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "That's where—"

Dean nodded. "Right where the chick got swirlied to death, exactly. So, what? This ghost is possessing nerds?"

Sam nodded. "And using them to go after bullies, yeah."

"Well, does that sound like Barry's MO?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, looking unsure. "Barry had a hard time."

"Okay, you guys get on that. I, unfortunately, have to go back to the assembly," I said.

"Have fun with that," Dean said, and then he and Sam turned back to each other.

As I walked back to the assembly, people started coming out, and Claire and Emma came up to me.

"You were in the bathroom for a long time," Claire said, "Are you okay?"

"What?" I asked. "Oh, yeah, I was just fixing my hair."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You're not like Claire, are you? I told her she isn't even that fat."

"Stop..." Claire said, looking down, ashamed.

Emma shrugged. "You do it to yourself."

Claire looked up at Emma and then stormed away.

"Wow, that was really nice of you," I said sarcastically.

Emma shrugged. "She needs tough love. She's going to end up hurting herself."

I rolled my eyes. "Or you could talk to her like she's an actual person."

"Look," Emma said, stepping a little closer. "I'm going to let that go because you're new, and oddly, I actually like you."

I shrugged. "Okay."

She smiled. "See you at lunch?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Great." She smiled and then walked off with the boy she had been making out with.

After health class, I walked into the cafeteria and looked around for Claire and Emma but was greeted again by a bra snap.

I turned around and saw Richard standing there with a stupid grin on his face. "Hey, beautiful."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, seriously. Do it again, and I will punch you in the face."

"I love a good threat." Richard smirked.

"It's not a threat, it's a promise," I said.

He put his hands up as if he was pretending to be afraid.

"Hey, Maddi. Over here!" I turned to see Emma waving me over to sit with her and the other cheerleaders and jocks.

I walked over, not entirely happy about the group of people I was hanging out with, and sat down. "Hi, guys."

Claire barely made eye contact with me and looked away.

"I see you and Richard talking a lot." Emma shrugged. "It could be cute."

"Yeah, that's never going to happen," I said.

"Why not?" Emma asked. "I know he can be annoying, but he obviously likes you."

"I'm good, seriously," I said.

"What do you have against boys?" Emma laughed.

"Nothing..." I said.

"Have you ever even had a boyfriend?" Emma asked.

"No..." I shrugged. "I move around a lot. I don't really have time for it. I guarantee you. I will be gone by the end of the week."

"Wow, that sucks. So you like don't even have friends?" Emma asked.

"Not really." I shrugged. "I have my brothers."

Emma's eyes widened. "That's sad."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you, I kind of have a crush on someone?" I blushed, not realizing admitting that would make me feel so strange.

"Really? Who?" Emma asked excitedly.

"Uh, his name's Nate," I said, and my cheeks got hotter.

"Aw, that's so cute. You're blushing, he must be a real hottie." Emma smiled. "Look, you should really go get food before lunch is over, we'll talk about him when you get back."

"All right." I nodded and stood up, realizing I was feeling a little hungry.

"Oh, and Maddi, grab the soup. It's to die for." Emma smiled sweetly.

"Thanks." I smiled, and since I wasn't sure what food was good here or not, I walked over to the salad bar and scooped some soup for myself and then joined the others back at the table.

Emma pointed to the left, causing me to look. "That teacher is the biggest jerk. I hope you don't have to deal with him."

Then hot liquid splashed into my lap, and I immediately stood up.

"Oops." She smiled. "It was an accident."

I grabbed some napkins and started dabbing my legs as the rest of the group laughed. "That was pretty obviously not an accident."

Emma shrugged. "Yeah, well, Claire told me what you said about me, maybe you should keep your big mouth shut."

I looked over at Claire, who looked away quickly as if she were ashamed.

I put my hand down on the table and leaned forward into Emma's face. "I feel sorry for you. You actually think that your life won't go downhill after high school. All these people that you're trying to impress probably won't speak a word to you after you graduate, and you will become a distant memory. The only real friend you have at this table, you take advantage of and don't appreciate, but one day I hope she realizes that she's worth more than you make her seem. So, be kind because what you have now will disappear very quickly."

There were gasps and whispers from the cheerleaders and "Ooo's" and laughing from the jocks.

At that moment, Emma went through several emotions, anger, nervousness, and then finally, confusion when milk was poured over her head. She looked up to see Claire standing above her with an empty carton.

Emma screamed.

"She's right, ya know. I'm a damn good friend, and you just use me!" Claire screamed and then stormed out of the cafeteria.

Everyone else at the table started pointing and laughing at Emma, and she stood up and pointed at me. "This is all your fault!"

I shrugged. "It's not my fault that you're a bad person."

Emma screamed and ran out of the cafeteria crying, and her boyfriend chased after her angrily.

I walked out of the cafeteria calmly and into the bathroom to try and clean myself up. When I walked in, Claire was standing in the mirror, crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked.

Claire shook her head quickly. "No, I shouldn't have done that. She's been my best friend since we were little. I shouldn't have joined in. I should've defended her. Now everyone is going to hate me, they were all laughing at me when I walked away."

"What?" I smiled. "No one was laughing at you. They were all laughing at her. They thought that you were awesome."

"Really?" Claire lit up a little.

I nodded. "Yeah, I bet you half of the people sitting there wish they did what you did."

Claire giggled. "Yeah, that's probably a little true." Then she looked sad again.

"Look..." I put my hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to stop being her friend, but you do need to start standing up for yourself. If you ever feel like she's being rude to you, you're probably not wrong, so just say something."

Claire smiled. "Okay." She looked down. "I'm sorry about your pants."

I shrugged. "Eh, they're just pants. I'll probably cut class and go home anyway."

"Are you really leaving at the end of the week?" she asked.

"Probably. It might even be sooner, to be honest," I said.

She frowned. "That's honestly got to suck."

I shrugged. "When you're on the road all the time, you realize pretty quickly what's actually important to you."

Claire shrugged. "Still, it would be cool if you could stay a little longer."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Do you want to go back to lunch and sit at our own table?" she asked.

"Sure." I smiled.

When we walked out, Emma brushed into us, crying. I wouldn't have thought much of it until I saw her bloody lip.

I grabbed her shoulder. "Hey, what happened?"

"Why do you care?" She scoffed as she tried to cover her mouth.

"He didn't do that to you again, did he?" Claire asked her.

"Shut up, traitor." Emma shrugged. "He's a guy. They're going to do what they want."

"Okay, you really need to stop saying that. You're using that to defend things that aren't normal for anyone to do," I said.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Then there was a flash of fear in her eyes, and we all turned to see her boyfriend stomping up to us.

"Don't walk away from me, Emma," he said, "You embarrassed me back there."

Claire walked up to him and pushed him without moving him. "Leave her alone, jerk."

"Get out of my way, little pig," he said and then shoved Claire to the ground, and Emma coward behind me. "Move." He glared down at me.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," I said and then stepped forward, so my chest was against his stomach, and I stared up at him, unintimidated. "Try something, I swear to god."

He glared down at me and pulled his arm back as if he was going to swing. He was huge, so I doubt I could actually do anything, but I was willing to take the punch for her, and then someone caught his arm.

"I don't think so," Dean said and then pulled his arm down. "How about you come with me." He grabbed the kid by his collar and walked him off toward the office. "Dude, were you not at that assembly today?"

I walked over and helped Claire stand up, and she ran over to Emma and hugged her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Emma said and then smiled at me weakly. "Thank you. Both of you."

Claire looked up at her in shock that she would thank her and then immediately went back to hugging her. I smiled and nodded at her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam sweeping, and when I looked over at him, he gestured for me to come over, but my phone vibrated, and we both pulled out our phones to see we had a text from Dean.

10 mins. Impala. Out front.

I sighed and turned back to the girls. "Okay, this is probably the last time I will see you guys, so just take care of yourselves, all right?"

"What? You're leaving already?" Emma asked, looking slightly disappointed.

I nodded. "Yeah, my brother just texted me to meet him out front in a few minutes."

"Well, I can't say that I'm totally disappointed, but I am a little," Emma said.

I laughed. "Thanks."

Then Richard ran by and snapped all three of our bras.

"Dude! Seriously?!" I yelled and then turned to face him. "What did I tell you would happen if you did it again."

"You told me you would punch me in the face," Richard said, pretending to be scared.

"Okay, at least you're aware," I said, and as I stepped toward him, my arm pulled back, ready to punch him, the bell rang, and the halls started flooding with kids. Finally, my fist connected with his face. I guess I punched a lot harder than I realized because he immediately dropped to the ground and wasn't moving.

Everyone was silent as they stared at me, and then they all started cheering and yelling, "Rocky! Rocky!"

I looked over at Sam, whose eyes were wide, and then he nodded for me to head to the front door. I quickly walked off towards the main door, and he headed to a side door.

Everyone followed me to the front as they continued to chant, and the principal walked out of the office. "What on Earth is going on?!"

I walked out of the front door, and he shouted, "Where do you think you're going?!" But then everyone crowded around him and continued to chant.

As I walked toward the Impala, Sam came out of a side door and got into the front seat, and they both stared at me. I took the opportunity to feel like John Bender and proudly threw my fist into the air and then hopped into the back seat as the kids continued to chant. Looking back at the school, I could see the principal and several hall monitors trying to break up the crowd.

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"I think I've experienced enough of high school. Let's go burn some bones," I said.

Dean pulled away from the sidewalk and drove out of the parking lot. "What happened?"

"She knocked a kid clean out," Sam said.

"Nice." Dean smiled proudly in the rearview mirror.

Sam snapped a look at him.

Dean cleared his throat. "I mean. why are you starting fights everywhere you go?"

I shook my head and shrugged. "I told you I wouldn't do anything to anyone if they didn't deserve it."

"The cafeteria?" Dean asked.

"You were there?" I asked.

Dean nodded.

I shook my head. "I didn't start anything. That girl spilled hot soup on me." I shrugged. "And besides, I wasn't the one that poured milk on her head."

"What about the kid who was about to punch you?" Dean asked.

"He hit his girlfriend like two minutes before that, and I was defending her," I said.

Dean nodded.

"What about the kid you knocked out?" Sam asked, sounding annoyed.

"He wouldn't stop snapping my bra. I literally warned him, and he still did it. He brought it upon himself," I said.

Sam sighed. "Well, we can't really be mad at that."

Dean sat up a little to look at me better in the mirror excitedly. "So, you just hit that kid once?"

Later that night, we went to Barry's grave and dug up his coffin.

Dean lifted the lid, Sam and I dropped salt and fuel on the bones, then he lit a match and dropped it in. "So long, Barry Cook."

After that, we filled in the grave and hit the road, but Sam was oddly quiet.

"You all right?" Dean asked him.

Sam shrugged. "Barry was my friend. I just burned his bones."

"Well, he's at peace now, Sam," Dean said.

"I mean, if Dad had let us stay just a little while longer, maybe I could have helped the kid, ya know?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "You read the coroner's report same as me. Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was Hell for that kid. His parents had split up. He just wanted out. It was tragic, but it's not your fault. To tell you the truth, I'm glad we got out of that town. I hated that school."

Sam shrugged. "It wasn't all bad."

Dean chuckled. "How can you say that after what happened to you?"

Sam nodded and was silent for a little bit.

"What happened?" I asked.

Sam shrugged. "This kid punched me, but he bullied everyone, it wasn't a big deal."

"You could've torn that kid apart, and you didn't," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "I know, you said the same thing back then, and like I told you, I didn't want to be the freak... I wanted to be normal."

The next morning, Sam said he wanted to talk to a teacher he really liked back when he was a kid before leaving, so Dean reluctantly drove us back and parked the car in front of the school.

"We came back here so you could talk to a teacher?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "He's a good guy."

Dean shrugged. "Well, whatever. Go have your Robin Williams O captain! My captain! moment. Just make it quick."

Sam nodded. "All right." Then he got out and walked into the building.

"So, what happened with that girl yesterday? In the hall?" Dean asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, she wouldn't tell me. I just know her douchebag boyfriend hit her, and I wasn't going to let him do it again."

Dean shook his head and sighed. "Don't get people like that."

I hit his shoulder lightly. "I'm glad you were there 'cause to be honest, even though I was willing to take the punch, I didn't really want to. Dude was huge."

Dean nodded. "He's lucky I got there when I did."

"He's lucky?" I asked.

"If he laid a finger on you, I would've killed him," Dean said, straight-faced and then smirked.

I laughed. "You're such a dork."

A moment later, Sam came running out of the building in pain, clutching his chest and hobbling slightly. Then he hopped in the car.

As soon as Sam shut the door, Dean took off. "What happened?"

"The ghost. It's not gone," Sam said as he clutched his crotch in pain.

Dean furrowed his brow at Sam. "What did it do to you?"

"It possessed a girl, and then she stabbed me in the chest with a pencil and kicked me..." Sam said, gesturing to his lap.

"What?" Dean shook his head. "Dude, seriously?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, seriously, Dean."

A couple of minutes later, Dean turned down a trail into the woods and parked the Impala next to a creek. We got out, and Sam sat on a rock, still hunched over in pain.

Dean popped the trunk and pulled a giant bottle of whiskey out of our cooler and handed it to Sam, who just looked at him strangely.

Dean shook the bottle. "Trust me. This will help."

Sam took it and rested the bottle between his legs, sighing as he felt some sort of relief.

"That ghost is dead." Dean paced. "I'm gonna rip its lungs out!" He shrugged. "Well, you know what I mean."

"Why do you feel so passionate about this?" I asked. "This is a common thing in our life."

"I just—" Dean put his hands in the air. "I don't know! You don't mess with a man's jewels." He walked to the car and pulled a file out, and sat on the trunk.

"It knew my name. My real name. We burned Barry's bones. What the hell?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Well, maybe it wasn't Barry. Maybe we missed something. We just got to go back." He flipped through the file and read a little bit. "No way. How did we not see this before?"

"What?" Sam and I asked in unison.

Dean brought the file over to Sam and me. "Check it out..." He pointed to some of the names on the paper, some of which had been the victims of the ghost possession. "Look, Martha Dumptruck, Revenge of the Nerds, and Hello Kitty... they rode the same bus."

Sam nodded. "Okay, so maybe the bus is haunted."

"Well, that would explain why there's no EMF at the school, but not the attacks." Dean shrugged. "I mean, ghosts are tied to the places that they haunt. They can't just bail."

"Unless this one can. Dean, there's lore about spirits possessing people and riding them for miles, then whenever they leave the body, they're bungee'd back to their usual haunt. But until then, the ghosts can go wherever they want," Sam explained.

"So, a spook just grabs a kid on the bus and walks right into Truman?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "It's possible."

"Ghosts getting creative... well, that's super," Dean said, sarcastically.

Once Sam and Dean finished drinking a couple of beers, and we ate, we made our way back to the school and checked out the bus.

Sam searched the back of the bus with an EMF meter. Dean searched the center looking for any sign of a ghost with a sawed-off rock-salt shotgun in his hand. I searched the front, looking through the driver's stuff.

"Definitely ain't clean," Sam said.

"Here, ghosty, ghosty, ghosty! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Dean tapped the top of the bus with his shotgun as he continued to search.

"Man, I don't get it. No one ever died on this bus, and it's not like there's a body hidden in here," Sam said.

"Yeah, but a flap of skin, a hair, I mean, hell, a hangnail..." Dean said, "Something's got to be tying the ghost to this place. We just got to find it."

"Yeah," Sam said.

I sat in the driver's seat while I searched through some of the papers in the front and found something interesting. "When did the first attack happen?"

"Almost two weeks ago," Sam said, "Why?"

"Driver got a new driving permit, issued two weeks ago," I said.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

I nodded and looked down at the paperwork. "Driver's name is Dirk McGregor Sr... Address is 39 North Central Avenue."

"McGregor?" Sam asked and then walked up and squatted next to me.

I nodded and looked back down at the paperwork to double-check. "Yeah."

"I knew his son," Sam said.

"Did you know everybody at this school?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged.

Dean drove us to Mr. McGregor's house, where the boys introduced themselves as old friends of Dirk's. We were invited into the house and sat in the living room together.

"So, you two were friends with Dirk?" Mr. McGregor asked.

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir, in high school."

Mr. McGregor shook his head. "I don't recall Dirk having many friends at Truman."

"When did, uh— When did Dirk pass?" Dean asked.

Mr. McGregor was struck by sadness. "He was eighteen."

"What happened to him?" Sam asked cautiously.

Mr. McGregor sighed. "Well, there was, first, drinking, then drugs, and then too many drugs. And then he just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, ya know? Dirk, he, uh— he had his troubles."

"What kind of troubles?" Dean asked.

"School was never easy for Dirk. We didn't have much money, and, well, ya know, kids... they can be cruel. They picked on him," Mr. McGregor explained.

"They picked on him?" Sam asked as if he didn't believe it.

Mr. McGregor nodded. "They called him poor and dirty and stupid. They even had a nickname for him..." He thought for a moment. "Dirk the jerk."

Sam swallowed hard and looked like he was guilty of something.

Mr. McGregor sighed. "And after what happened to his mother, he—"

"His mother?" Sam asked.

Mr. McGregor nodded. "Yeah, Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was thirteen. Cancer. I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her. And he was a great kid. He made sure Jane got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But ya know, you— you watch somebody die slow, waste away to nothing... it does things to a person. Horrible things."

Sam shook his head. "I didn't know about his mother."

Mr. McGregor shrugged. "He— He wouldn't talk about her, not even to me. Lot of anger in that boy."

"I'm sorry," Sam said honestly.

"Well, we'd really like to pay our respects, Mr. McGregor. Um, you mind telling us where Dirk is buried?" Dean asked.

"Oh, he wasn't. I had him cremated," Mr. McGregor said and pointed up to a shelf that had an urn on it.

"All of him?" Dean asked, and I nudged his leg with my knee.

Mr. McGregor looked at Dean, taken aback. "Well... I kept a lock of his hair."

"Oh, that's— that's nice. Where do you keep that?" Dean asked.

"On my bus, in my Bible," Mr. McGregor said suspiciously.

As night fell, we pulled up to the school and watched as Mr. McGregor's bus pulled out right in front of us, full of football players. So, we followed it, and eventually, it oddly pulled over in the middle of the road, and the bus driver walked off the bus. We got out of the Impala and grabbed a few things out of the trunk before running up to the bus.

"Dirk!" Sam shouted as he cocked his shotgun at the bus driver.

"Winchester." The bus driver turned around with a smirk on his face. "What are you gonna do? Shoot me?"

Dean snuck up behind him and wrapped a rope around him.

Sam shook his head. "Don't need to. That rope is soaked in saltwater, Dirk. You're not going anywhere."

I jumped onto the bus. "Everybody stay where you are, and everything will be fine."

"Maddison?" one of the football players asked.

"Uh, yeah?" I asked, feeling bad that he remembered my name, but I didn't even remember meeting him.

"What are you doing with the PE Teacher?" he asked.

"Uh... um... he's more of—" I stuttered to come up with an answer.

"I'm like 21 Jump Street," Dean said as he walked onto the bus behind me. "The bus driver sells pot."

Everyone gasped, and I turned to look for the Bible.

"Yeah," Dean said.

I flipped through the Bible but found nothing. "Dean, it's not here!"

Dean charged off the bus, and I followed after him. "Where is it?"

"No way you'll ever find it." Dirk smiled.

Sam stepped forward and put the shotgun on Dirk's chest. "Where is it?!"

Dirk smiled. "Sam Winchester. Still a bully. You— You jocks... you popular kids... you always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the jerk, right? Now you evil sons of bitches are gonna get what's coming to you."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not evil, Dirk. I'm not. And neither were you. Trust me. I've seen real evil. We were scared and miserable, and we took it out on each other... us and everybody else. That's high school. But you suffer through that, and it gets better. I'm just sorry you didn't get a chance to see that... you or Barry."

"Nothing is gonna get better for me. Not ever," Dirk said and then ripped the rope off.

Sam fired the shotgun at him, but Dirk's spirit flew back onto the bus. One of the football players walked off the bus and attacked Sam from behind. Dean picked up the shotgun and fired it at Dirk, but missed, and he continued to beat up Sam.

I ran over to the bus driver, who was still lying on the ground but was slowly waking up. "I'm sorry," I said as I started searching his pockets. Finally, I pulled the lock of hair out, took a lighter out of my pocket, and set it on fire.

Dirk looked up at me, but then he screamed and burst out of the football player, who then fell on top of Sam.

"Little help?" Sam asked from under the large kid.

Dean laughed and started pulling the kid off of Sam. "He's giving you the full cowgirl."

Sam groaned.

The next morning, Sam asked to go back to the school to finally talk to the teacher he hadn't been able to the day before. When he came back out about twenty minutes later, he had a strange look on his face, almost as if he was unsure of something, and I couldn't quite read him.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

Sam nodded. "Good. I'm glad I saw him."