Chapter 2

I think the worst part about waking up in the morning is that no matter how many times you do it, five minutes later you have to do it again. Drag your ass out of bed after staying out way too late at night and taking part in all sorts of way too many unhealthy activities. It's pretty fucking annoying.

My breath tastes stagnant and nasty as I sit up in bed, rubbing my aching head and dreaming about a hot shower. It's then I notice someone sitting in my desk chair. For a second I think it's my mom, she used to watch me sleep early in the morning when I was little, and draw me sometimes. I know that sounds creepy but it was kind of nice. That was before she disappeared...but I dont want to think about that right now.

But no, it's not my long lost mother or anyone of any relation to me. It's that soldier guy...ummm...Dean or whatever his name is. It takes a few seconds but then last night finally clicks into place. But now I'm confused because I am definitly still wearing clothes.

"We didn't have sex last night, if that's what you were wondering" he states randomly, grabbing my attention.

"We didn't? How come?" I say, stifling a yawn. I'm still pretty groggy.

"Because you freaken fell asleep right when we stumbled into the door. It would have been cute if this had actually been my place and you were like...my little sister. Instead I'm stuck sitting here all night not sure what the fuck to do with a massive boner." he replys, although he chuckles so I guess he wasn't really that mad.

"Oh....sorry about that?"

"It's alright....light weight" he snickers. This really gets my attention. No one has ever called me a light weight. Ever. I once downed an entire bottle of vodca and still made it through AP French and Logistics (too really fucking boring classes) and didn't even feel the slightest bit woozy. So needless to say I was offended.

"What the fuck?! I am NOT a light weight! I was just feeling a bit....tired is all! Jesus!" I reply angirly.

"Fine fine" he says, holding up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. But then he sort of whispers under his breath, "whatever you say, light weight"

I stand up really fast, ready to I dont know...crack a chair over his head or something! when I feel all the blood rush to my head really fast and my vision goes all black and I fall back onto the bed.

"fuuu-damnit" I moan, holding my pounding head between my hands. I can feel the worst hangover of my life coming on.

"Jesus, dont hurt yourself," he says.

"Look asshole dont you have like...somewhere to BE or something?! Like a place that is not here where you live and work and whatever the hell else...??"

"No actually" he laughs, "Your Dad has invited me to stay here, remember? Because I'm such a dedicated and exceptional young man? Anyway, I'm going to go get some eats and then go hit on your sister or something. She is pretty hot by the way. So see ya around" he ducks around the door, shutting it with a firm click, just as I throw a particularly large volume of Shakespeare's Complete Works Volume Two after him. It makes a loud thudding noise and it lands on the floor like fifteen feet away from the door.

Oh hell, this is going to be a shitty day.

After a nice long hot shower and some fresh clean clothes and lots and lots of toothpaste I finally feel comfortable enough to face the world. Therefore, I sneek out of the house to meet up with Regan, because maybe he got lucky last night or something. Yeah and maybe the Lucky Charms Leprachaun just filled the streets with thousands of mini marshmellows. Wait scratch that, the marshmellows are probably more likely.

So I'm sopposed to meet up with him on the lake. As I shoot past on my flashy yellow motorcycle (because Duke's son status equals I get cool stuff) I spy him easily on the horizon of green and blue. This is probably because he's the only one wearing a flipping bright orange safety vest. Now, personally, if I had come to the point of desperation in which I felt the need to fish in order to get some I would'nt mind maybe taking a doozy in the lake, but not Regan. He's probably all "Well, just cause I want to get laid doesnt mean I have to DROWN!" or some such shite. What can I say, I'm more of a risk taker.

I walk up slowly behind him, stalking him like a giant, dumb, orange safety vested idiot when I notice he happens to be talking to someone else. I look up, thinking for a seocnd that it might actually be someone of the female gender when lo and behond there sits asshole Dean Winchester, looking really hot in only swimming trunks and nothing else and he must have like a ten pack and holy crap he is so fucking gorgeous it's not even fair but this is all irrelevant because he's still an asshole! And he's sitting there talking to Regan.

"What the hell?" I say, startling them both.

"Dude this guy is like the SHIIIZ! He's knows all about chicks and how to get them! He should write a book!" Regan begins excitedly. He's jumping up and down like a retarded puppy dog and I litterally almost just threw up in my mouth.

"Hey man, I've just been around the block a few times" Dean replys, shaking off Regan's appraisal but he still has the nerve to blush a little and did I mention how cute he looks with freckles?? and DAMNIT IM DOING IT AGAIN!! GRR!! Self, remember gorgeous man with freckles equals asshole!

"No really he's a flipping genius! Did you know that when girls--"

"Dude he's not even into girls! He made out with me last night! We almost had sex last night! He doesnt even know anything about girls!"

"Irrelevant! He's still a flipping genius!"

I really have to admire Regan's pure bluntness at this point. I essentially just admitted that I might not be as straight as a ruler, or that I might actually have a sex life, two pretty ground breaking admissions right there but he just shakes it off, turning back to his new God, the Seargent. You know that throwing-up-in-my-mouth little thing that I mentioned earlier? I just almost did it again. What the hell is HAPPENING to the world!

I can't even SEE straight I'm so mad! This Dean guy is totally taking over my life every where he goes! And he's doing it better! That's just fucked up. While I stand there, balling my fists and doing all I can not to stamp on the ground like a six year old girl Regan asks,

"Hey so according to Dean chicks really dig sweet rides, like sports cars and the such. Do you mind if I borrow your bike for a few hours?"

I'm so pissed off that I dont really even hear his voice and I just wave his out of my sight.

As Regan jogs up the hill, squealing with excitement as he straddles the bike and turning the key (which I,like the the rich and retarded white boy that I am, left in the ignition) starting her up. I finally notice what Regan's doing when I look up to see him zooming off into the distance with my prized baby, probably to drive her into a tree five seconds from now. Double fuck!

"What the hell do you know about girls?!" I lash out at Dean, whose been watching me this whole time laughing quietly to himself.

"Dude, I'm kind of like really hot. And I'm a soldier, which chicks dig. And I have an awesome car, which my more vulgar friends like to call the Pussy Mobile. You wear tightish pants and drive around on a giant yellow pansy bike. Of the two of us, I think I know a lot more about girls."

"My bike is not pansy! Yellow can be a manly color, too! It's gender neutral! Dont you ever notice that parents color their baby's walls yellow when their not sure whether their going to have a boy or girl?! It's cause it's yellow and it's an awesome color!"

"Says the "man" who passes out after like two drinks..."

"This coming from the "man" who grabs the ass of slash makes out with the man who passes out after like two drinks!"

"I was drunk. You kind of look like a chick."

"Yeah! Well--! Ummm...whatever!" I reply, somewhat lamely. As if! He was SO into me.

"You know I was having like a REALLY good week before you decided to drop by! I'm going to close my eyes, count to ten, and then go call some CHICKS and hang out with them. You shall have nothing to do with any of these plans, in fact if the words seargent, Dean, or Winchester are mentioned I will personally kill myself! Compramisso?" And with that I march away, pulling out my cell to call a cab. The last thing I see is some little old lady walking her ancient fat bull dog and obviously checking Dean out.

I need a drink really bad right now.

So I'm sitting in the bar that i'd visited last night. I figure that this is the place that I met Dean, and therefore where my life started to become pretty shitty, so if I come back and start again my life will thus become un-shitified. Or something like that.

I just called my sister and she offered to stop by with a couple of her friends. Because my masculinity is feeling a little wounded right now, I figure that some flirting and maybe some screwing will probably do me some good. And like I said, lots and lots of alcohol.

She brings about two, and they are all wearing brightly colored yellow sundresses which they got at some "fabulas little boutique" down the street. So at this point I'm seriously considering turning in my bike for something more masculine. Maybe a nice black or red.

"So how's your day been, darling?" Ana asks teasingly, tucking her hair behind her ear and settling into some chips and salsa.

"Shitty, but now you're here" I smile, checking out the girls she brought. A brunette and a red head, both slightly plump but in that sexy Marilyn Monroe sort of way. My day is looking up, shall we say?

I'm just settling into my gin and tonic when it happens. They. Bring. Up. The. Seargent.

"Omg have you seen him! The new soldier whose been hanging around?! Isnt he so DREAMY?!" formerly sexily plump brunette, who is now just fat and annoying, gushes. And I thought the only people who say things like "DREAMY" are the people who make fun of people like fat and annoying brunette chick.

I figure I can still salvage the red head at least, I mean this drink is like six dollars. I start putting the moves on her, you know all casual but interested like, and right when it looks like I might just get a happy ending she says,

"Hey not that I'm not all flattered and everything, but I thought you were gay? And besides i've known you for about thirty seconds dude, stop trying to lay the eyes on me."

I am utterly mortified. My traterous sister all of a sudden starts chocking on her drink and ducks under the table to "cough" her head off but I know she's just laughing her ass off. There is no hope left. I'm seriously going to skip town, pawn off all my worldly possessions and become a street performer in Santa Monica.

I have no reply for the red head. I just stand up, grabbing my coat from my chair and head out of the room. As I pass, my sister shakes her head while the red head stares questioningly at my sister, as if to say "What'd I do?" The brunette waves at me as I step out the door.

It took me about thirty minutes but I locate where Dean Winchester, the hated one, got off to. He's sitting in our salon, smoking cigarettes and parusing a book, which upon closer examination turns out to be the Shakerspeare copy that I threw at him this morning. Suave bastard. I stare at him for a few seconds from the doorway, half wanting to kill him and half wanting to climb into his lap and kiss him when I notice five or six of our maids across the room crowding in the doorway and dreamily staring at him, probably contemplating the same thing. Well fuck that.

"I challenge you, you bastard!" I announce dramatically, stepping into the room and brandishing the first thing I could get my hands on, which turns out to be a letter opener.

"Dude, your gonna loose an eye with that thing" he replys, not even looking up, "Now run along and leave the dangerous devices to the real men."

Stepping closer, I kick the book out of his hands and hold the depressingly dull blade to his throat.

"I challenge you to the most badass game of ping pong of your entire existance. To the death." Okay it sounded much more menacing in my head.

"What, or you'll letter open me to the death?"

"Alright fine....looks like I might not be the only light weight in the room...."

"Hey, hey lets not get ahead of ourselves. Alright fine, I'll do your stupid challenge. Oh, and by the way, real men refer to it as TABLE TENNIS"

Oh it's on.

We're standing in the game room, on opposite sides of the bright red and green ping pong table trying to look as menacing as possible with little paddles in our hands.

"What are the terms of this death match anyway?"

"Other than death?"

"Yeah, other than death"

"If I win, you have to leave town and never return...."

"And if I win....you have to be my slave for a week!"

"God, you really must be gay" I say, hitting the ball across the table and unsucessfully catching him off guard. Stupid army skills.

We parlay across the board, playing what must be the most intense game of table tennis ever played. It's all fair in love in war, as several times I try to hit low shots, trying to catch him off guard.

Whack! It flys across the table, i'm just about to serve the most manliest serve ever when Ana walks into the room,

"Sam, darling, have you seen the yellow Kawazaki? I wanted to go out tonight..."

I turn to her just at the wrong moment. The ball spins inmid air, I turn back and I deserpately ark my paddle towards it. I miss by centimeters. The. Ball. Falls. It makes a horribly loud clattering noise as it hits the tiled floor. My paddle drops to the floor as I sway with shock. I just lost a game of ping pong. I don't loose games of ping pong.

"About the bike?" my sister asks, completely unaware of the fact that my world is crashing all around me.

"Your ass is mine, bitch!" Dean shouts triumphantly.

Bugger.

A/N: OMG! FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS ARE APPEARING IN LA!!! AND I HAVE PRESALE TICKETS!! THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY EVVVVVEEERR!!!!