They were learning about time in math the first week of December. Most of the students really didn't understand, but Dean raised his hand as high as he could about halfway through the lesson.

"Miss Sherry, I has a question," he said. "Can we go back in time?"

"What do you mean?"

"One time I saw a movie with my Dad about going back in time."

"Don't be stupid," Julie rolled her eyes. "It's a movie. It's not real."

"Yeah huh," Dean said. "It's real."

"I'm sorry, Dean, but you can't go back in time," Miss Sherry said. "It's just a movie."

"Told ya," Julie said sticking out her tongue.

"You're such a jerk face," Dean spat.

"Stop," Miss Sherry said. "Both of you, or I'll put you both is the time out corners."

Julie smiled to herself, proud that she's proven herself right. Dean scowled.

At recess after lunch, Dean sat alone with his fire truck when Julie came over him.

"Do you wanna go back in time because your mom's dead?" Julie asked. "My mom told me what heaven was. She said it's where dead people go, but she told me I was supposed to be nice to you. But it's really hard because you say really stupid things in class all the time."

Dean didn't even look up.

"Is that why you're such a weirdo?" Julie asked. "Because your mom's dead?"

When asked later, Dean would swear that never in his life had he ever hit a girl, and technically, he kicked Julie so he wasn't lying, and Julie kind of deserved it. Or at least that's what Dean would tell people when they asked.

Miss Sherry ran across the playground in a speed she didn't thing was possible. Pulling Julie away from Dean and handing her off to another teacher who had also seen what had happened before grabbing Dean by the arm.

"What happened?" Miss Sherry demanded. "You know better than to hit people."

"I didn't hit her," Dean said angrily. "I kicked her, because she's mean."

"I'm not mean!" Julie spat. "You're a weirdo."

"I'm very disappointed in both of you," Miss Sherry said, looking between Julie and Dean. "You both know better than to hit."

Dean and Julie sat in the Principal's office glaring at each other arms crossed over their chests waiting for their parents to come get them. Julie's mother and John arrived a short time after the fight was broken up. Julie's mom did not look impressed. The look on John's face was all Dean needed to see to realize how much trouble he was in.

"It wasn't my fault!" Dean said the moment his dad walked into the room. "She's mean!"

"I wouldn't be mean to you if you weren't a freak!"

Julie's mom looked over the John and chucked, "Looks like we got a little school yard crush going on."

"Yeah," Dean said. "I want to crush her."

"Dean," John said his voice void of any patience; he clearly didn't see anything funny about this situation.

Dean blew a deep breath out his nose, eyebrows close together, glaring across the room at Julie.

"Explain yourself," John said. It was taking almost all of his resolve to keep himself from yelling.

"Every time I say anything she makes fun of me," Dean said quickly.

"Because you say stupid things!" Julie retorted. "No one thinks that you can go back in time! You're stupid."

"Am not!" Dean growled. "Stop being mean. I didn't do nothing to you."

"Yeah-huh," Julie said. "You never answer me when I ask you stuff about heaven. You just be a freak about it, and I try to be nice, and you just be weird."

"Julie," Her mom said with all the patience in the world. "Is this the little boy you were talking about the other day? The one I told you to be nice to?"

Julie nodded. "I tried, but he's so weird."

"Obviously," the Principal said from behind his desk. "We can't have this kind of behavior, so we'll be sending them both home for the day, and if anything like this happens again, I'll be forced to take a more serious action. We can't have students physically fighting on the playground."

"You hit her?" John said through tightly gritted teeth.

"She was talking about Mom," Dean whined.

"So you hit her?"

"No," Dean looked down at the ground. "I kicked her."

"Did you hit him back?" Julie's mom asked.

Julie shook her head quickly. "Miss Sherry pulled me away before I could."

"Yeah-huh!" Dean said. "Don't lie, Julie, you hit back!"

"No I didn't!" Julie spat back.

"Yes you did!" Dean said angrily. "You tried to hit my face but you hit my helmet! You cutted your hand you liar. It's bleedin'!"

"Dean, stop it. I apologize for my son," John said as if it physically hurt him to do so. "I definitely taught him better than that. You do not hit people. Especially little girls."

"But she was talkin' about Mom!"

"Dean," John warned. "I will deal with you later."

"Julie will never speak of Dean's mother again," Julie's mom said. "I've told her that it's not okay. Apologize."

"I didn't do anything!" Julie whined. "He kicked me!"

"You talked about my mom!" Dean practically growled. "I telled you a billion million times I don't talk about her! And you always do!"

"Apologize," Julie's mom repeated. "I told you to be nice to him."

"I don't need her to be nice," Dean grumbled. "I just wants her to leave me alone."

"I can't," Julie spat. "You're a freak!"

Julie's mom looked over to John. "Clearly this isn't going to be easy, but believe me, when she came home from the first day of classes and asked where heaven was because a boy in her class's mom was there, I told her to be nice to him. Now Julie, you will apologize."

"I'm sorry," she said with no emotion behind it.

"For what?" Her mom pressed.

"For asking if you were a freak because your mom was dead. Even though you is a freak."

"Dean," John said.

"I'm sorry for kicking you," Dean mumbled to the floor. "Even though you deserved it because you're mean."

"Let's go," John said grabbing the back of Dean's jacket. He pulled Dean out to the parking lot. Dean got into the car and waited for what was surely to be quite a scowling. "How the fuck can you think it was okay to kick a little girl?"

"I telled you," Dean mumbled. "She maked fun of me. She maked fun of me every day for no reason."

"You don't get to attack people, Dean," John said, putting the car in drive. "You know better than that."

"But Dad!" Dean whined.

"Do not talk back to me," John yelled.

"Yes sir," Dean said taking in a shaking breath, remembering that it was babyish to cry, and he wasn't a baby.

"You're goin' straight to your frickin' room when he get home. You don't get to play with Sam, you don't get to watch TV, you don't get nothin'. You're lucky if I let you eat dinner tonight. You understand? You're lucky you don't get back handed."

"Yes sir," Dean whispered.

Dean followed in his father's shadow up the stairs alongside the hardware store to their apartment. John stood in the doorway with his arms folded across this chest as Dean made his why sullenly to him room.

"I'm going to get Sam at Bobby's," John told him. "Do not leave that room. I'll know if you do. Think about what you did today, and why you shouldn't have done it. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled at the floor.

He fell onto his bed with a thump, face first into his pillow. He knew that kicking Julie wasn't the right thing to do, but he'd been trying to do things the right way since the first day of school. All the things Bobby had told him hadn't worked. He tried to just ignore her, he tried telling Miss Sherry, but that labeled him a teacher's pet and a tattle tale. He didn't think he had another choice. Kicking her seemed like the best and only decision he had left. He tried to think about what his dad would want him to say. Reasons he should never hit a girl, even a mean one, but he couldn't think of a single one. If Julie had been a boy, he didn't think his dad would be so mad at him, but Dad didn't know Julie. He would never understand.

"Deans!" Sam yelled busting into the room. "You teach me more school today?"

"I can't Sammy," Dean said into the pillow. "I'm in punishment."

"So you can't teach me?" Sam said. Dean could hear the sadness in the little boy's voice. That was worse than having to go to bed without dinner or his dad being mad at him. "I am in punishment too?"

"Sam," John sighed from the living room. "Come out here, Dean's in trouble you can't play with him."

"Am I in trouble too?" Sam whined. "Me and Deans does everything together."

"No, Sammy," John said. "You're not. Just come here. Why don't you draw some pictures? You like drawing right?"

"Yeah," Sam said a defeated sound to his voice. "I color."

Dean curled into a ball on his bed. He'd let down a lot of people today: Miss Sherry, his dad, Sammy, his mom's memory. He'd never felt worse in his life. He could hear his dad getting something ready for dinner in the kitchen, probably cheeseburgers. That was Dean's favorite. Dad would probably to that to him as punishment. Dean did his best not to cry. He couldn't allow himself to cry. Crying would make everything worse.

"Dean," John yelled a few minutes later. "Come out here."

Dean took a deep breath and climbed down from his bed, and walked into the living room with his eyes glued to the floor.

"You hungry?" John asked. Dean nodded. "Then get your ass over here before I change my mind."

Dean took his seat next to Sam and pulled his bowl close to him. He ate in silence like he figured he was supposed to, even though Sam never stopped asking him questions.

"I drawed you a new picture Deans," Sam said. "A cuz I knowed you was sad. Wanna know was it is? It's an orange dragon! I think it's the bestest dragon I ever colored. Wanna see?"

"Not right now, Sammy," John warned. "Dean's still in trouble."

"What did he do?" Sam asked. "I's never been in trouble for all day afore. Did he leave his toys out?"

"Don't worry about it Sammy," John sighed. "Dean knows what he did was wrong. He'll be off punishment when understands why it was wrong."

"Oh," Sam said kicking his feet back and forth. "Can I still give Deans my picture?"

"Later," John said.

"Okay," Sam nodded. "It's a really, really good picture. You'll like it."

Dean looked up from the table to look at his dad, who still looked angry. He figured Dad would be mad for a long time. He'd really messed up this time.

After dinner, John put Sammy to bed, and sat Dean down on the well-worn sofa that came with the apartment for a talk.

"Do you understand why I'm mad?"

"Because I hit a girl," Dean mumbled.

"No," John sighed, like it pained him to have to explain himself to his six year old. "I'm mad because you know better. I'm mad because I taught you better than that. It doesn't matter if it's a girl or a boy, or a grown up, or Sammy. You don't kick people. No matter what they say to you."

"Daddy," Dean said quietly. "You don't understand. She's so mean, and she gets the other kids to be mean. Miss Sherry always tells them to leave me alone. But then they make fun of me for telling and say I'm the teacher's pet and it doesn't stop. They never stop Dad. And I don't know what to do."

"Ignore them," John said. "Just ignore them."

"I tried that," Dean said, trying so hard to hold in tears. "That's what Miss Sherry and Uncle Bobby said to do, but I can't. They don't stop. I don't do nothing to them. I just sit by myself and play with my fire truck and they make fun of me all day."

John sighed. "It's part of life, Buddy. Not everyone's nice. You're just gonna hafta learn to live with it. Find a way to get along with this Julie girl that doesn't involve kicking her at recess."

"If she wasn't mean, I wouldn't have kicked her," Dean defended. "But I telled her over and over to stop asking me about Mom, and she never stopped."

"Ignore her," John said again. "You just have to ignore her. Soon enough we'll leave here and you won't have to put up with Julie any more, alright. As soon as the school year is over, you won't have to worry about it. Just a few more months okay."

"I guess," Dean mumbled. "But what if she keeps talking about Mom. Even now after everyone telled her to leave me alone."

"Just keep telling your teacher," John said. "Let her handle it. Don't worry about what the other kids say about you. Just don't because it doesn't matter. Now go to bed. You're still in trouble. No TV until I say so, even if you're at Bobby's, understand?"

"Yes sir," Dean nodded, as he slid off the couch and made his way into the bedroom.