I don't know where I got the confidence to confess all that to him, but he didn't seem upset by it. He just seemed kind of nervous or maybe ashamed. He didn't seem like a bad person, and neither did his brother. Murderers or not, they were pretty normal.

"My mom used to love that song."

"My parents hated it."

"Where'd you learn to play?"

"Youtube." He chuckled. "I could teach you, if you want."

"You're not afraid of me?"

"No. You're too much like a giant puppy dog." This made him laugh. Like, really laugh. It was kind of awesome to hear.

"Okay. I accept that offer."

"Okay." I played the first three keys of "Hey Jude," and he played them back. I played the next three, and he played them back. This could've went on for hours if we hadn't been interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind us.

"Ready to go, Agent Wesson?"

"Um, yeah." He looked at me. "See you around, Miss Evans."

"My name's Jackie."

"Okay. See you around, Jackie."

"See you around, Sam." He smiled at me, and I returned it. He left with a very confused look Dean. Ali appeared a few seconds later.

"What was that about?"

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"Only on the goodbyes. How'd you know his name?"

"I Googled them."

"Anything good?"

"Not really."

"Bummer."

"They're FBI agents. What'd you expect?"

"I don't know. Juvie record?" I chuckled.

"Agent Wesson,"

"Oh, please. Don't call him something different for me."

"Fine. Sam said his mom used to love Hey Jude."
"Ew! I hate The Beatles. You staying for dinner?"

"No, I have to go."

"Alright. Text me when you get home."

"Okay." I slid my backpack on, and headed downstairs.

"Hey!" I stopped, and turned halfway around.

"What?"

"No more flirting with federal agents."

"I wasn't flirting." She rolled her eyes, and I continued downstairs and out the door. Sam was still there.

"Wanna ride home?" I looked at the thunderstorm, and nodded. I followed him to a black Impala, and slid in the backseat.