"So where did you all go when you left this morning

"So where did you all go when you left this morning?" my mom asked Sam, Dean, and me. She shoveled a mouthful of chicken into her mouth.

Dinner in the Winchester household is never the Hallmark movie-type sort of dinner. It is either one or two of many descriptions: calm, tense, messy, clean, quiet, loud, or a full-fledged war. Tonight, with 10 people at the table, it was messy, loud and a full-on smack down between Emma and I.

"Yes, do tell, Rickiejoleen," Emma piped in. She brought her tiny forkful of potatoes to her mouth and ate it daintily, smirking. If there was anything she loved (that was, if she could love), it was getting others in trouble and listening in on their punishments. She was good at it, too. When she put itching powder in my clothes and I told my mom, my mom only yelled at me, saying that just because I was jealous of Emma (ouch) didn't mean I could blame everything I did on her, and that I probably being careless and walked into poison ivy.

"It's Rickie," I snapped. "And we just needed to hang out for a few hours. I haven't been able to see Sam and Dean in forever and just needed some quality time with them."

"So what did you get? You said you were going to town to get some things," my mother continued.

"Uhhhhhh…"

"Christmas shopping," Sam chimed in.

"Yeah, Christmas shopping!" I confirmed.

"Oh. But where are your shopping bags?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Did you really think we'd bring them in the house for you to see where we stashed them? We know how to sneak things in the house, Mom," I told her, praying she wouldn't ask any more questions. She was a real stickler for detail, and could remember something you said from months ago. Slip up on one detail, and she'll have you caught red-handed right in the middle of your lie faster than a policeman can snap handcuffs on your wrists.

"Alright. Are you okay, sweetie? You seem sort of… jumpy. Ever since you came home, you look like you think someone is going to attack you. Did something happen?"

If only she knew the truth to her words

"You do seem worried," Kendra Barry told me. She lifted her wine glass, took a sip, swallowed, and continued, "You should try yoga to calm your nerves. Pilates works wonders, too. I've lost 10 pounds in less than a month, and I can sleep so much better now."

I bit my tongue to refrain myself from saying something I shouldn't. If anything, she lost the 10 pounds by eating nothing. Even now, she hasn't eaten anything on her plate. I probably have more calories in a day than she does in a week.

"Nah, I'm fine. Must be winter fever," I lied. I took a bite of my mom's casserole and gagged; luckily my mom didn't notice.

"It's spring fever, stupid," Emma said prissily.

"You can say winter fever. It's like the same thing," Joe argued.

"No, it's not! It's totally different!"

"Guys…" my mom said, trying to intervene.

"No, it's not! It's the same thing, only in a different season!" John disagreed.

"Just because Rickiejoleen doesn't have a brain doesn't mean you should act like you don't have one," Emma snapped.

"I'm sorry; I can't understand you, I don't speak moron," I snarled.

"Girls…" Emma's mother interrupted.

"Are you calling me a moron?"

"Maybe I am!"

"Girls!" our mothers shouted.

"She started it!" Emma yelled.

"And I'm ending it," I snapped.

"Girls!" our mothers shouted again. Kendra turned to her husband, whose face was a bright red. He looked ready to explode.

"Can you help us out here?" she asked him, seeming annoyed at his lack of help.

"No, are you kidding? Don't make them stop. It's so funny to watch," he said, and began chortling. I realized that he was trying not to laugh the entire time.

"Will you act normal?" Emma snapped.

"There is no such thing as normal. When you think about it, no one is normal. Everyone is different in their own way," Joe claimed.

"Hey, guess what? I don't care," Emma said.

"Hey is for horses," I smirked. "Like you."

"Ni-ice," Joe said, giving me a high five.

"You guys are such freaks!" Emma yelled. She pushed her chair back, stood up and, after glowering at me, stalked out of the dining room. A few seconds later, there was a loud bang of the guest bedroom door slamming shut.

"I'm sorry about that," Mr. Barry apologized. "Emma can be such a demon sometimes."

My eyes snapped up. Was it my imagination or was he looking at Sam and Dean meaningfully?

"Teenagers," Mrs. Barry sighed. She took another swig of wine.