She met him at a café down the road from the college for lunch the following day. Dean was weirdly nervous, carrying Sam's book bag with his book and notebooks in it. He also felt like idiot, like a little kid. He hadn't carried a book bag since seventh grade, but he didn't want to advertise to the world that he was getting his GED. She was sitting eating a sandwich at an outside table when he joined her.

"Sorry," she said, mouth full of sandwich. "I was hungry, couldn't wait. The waiter should be back, I told him I was meeting someone. But I was starving." She handed Dean the menu.

"No problem," Dean nodded taking it and scanning for something cheap. Bobby was paying him for working on cars around the yard, but he wasn't exactly raking in the dough. He ordered a burger when the waiter showed back up, contemplated getting a beer, but the little smirk on Rhonda's face told him that probably wasn't the best idea and he settled on a soda.

"So," Rhonda said when the waiter walked away. "How can I make it so that you understand? You said you had a hard time with picking up symbols?"

"Yeah, but then you said, that it was what the tree was representing, and I got that." Dean nodded. "If it was worded like that I could have figured it out. Sometimes it's just how things are worded. I mean, like, I've been trying to figure stuff like this out since I was eight, so I got a little bit of practice with it. I'm kinda worried with it being a timed thing, because those stupid standardized test things we have to take in middle school, I could never finish on time."

"Okay," Rhonda nodded as the waiter placed Dean's drink on the table. "I can talk to the proctors, extend your time allowed if that'll help you."

"I can do math real good," Dean said. "I'm pretty good at science usually, but history and English, I got a problem with. I can't really keep dates straight, and you've probably noticed I have crap handwriting, and the comprehension thing. Sam says I can't think analytically. But I'm not really sure what that means."

"It, basically what I asked you yesterday," Rhonda nodded. "You can read a book, and like it, but you couldn't write an essay about it."

Dean nodded. "That makes sense. Sam said that he learned all about finding symbols and all that stuff when he was in grade school. I know I wasn't the best student, and I didn't pay attention all that much because we moved around a lot, I didn't understand most of it, but I feel like I wouldn't have missed that."

"You just have to look for things that mean something else," Rhonda explained. "Things with double meanings. When I was interning, I worked in a special education class with a little boy with sever dyslexia, way beyond anything that you've been experiencing. He had letter confusion and couldn't really understand time, he couldn't really spell simple words that most third graders can. I mean, he was eight, but it was pretty obvious he had learning problems. So I can probably take what I learned working with him and modify it to work for you."

"I'm not in third grade," Dean sighed. "I can read just slowly."

"We'll figure something out," Miss Hurley smiled as Dean's burger arrived. "We got all afternoon."

After eating Rhonda took Dean to a book store. He followed in her footfalls as she wandered around the store asking Dean if he'd like this or that book. She'd open books he'd say he liked and make him read a passage, then summarize it for her.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Dean asked after the fourth book.

"The more you practice," Rhonda smiled running her hand along the book shelf of the Sci-Fi section. "The better you'll get at it."

Dean nodded and took the next book she handed him. "So like, if I took some of my brother's books and did this that would help?"

"Brain's a muscle," Rhonda replied. "Gotta work it out to keep in shape. Just like all your other muscles." She smiled and squeezed his bicep."

Dean smiled making eye contact with her, until she realized she was still holding his arm and let go.

"Sorry," she stammered.

"I don't mind," Dean smirked.

The ate dinner together before class, then she went to prepare and Dean wandered back to the bookstore and read a couple more books before heading back to the college. With Rhonda's help he could do this, he knew he could.

"There's a pep in your step lately," Bobby chuckled as Dean back from another study lunch with Rhonda Saturday afternoon. "You meet a nice girl in your class? That who you've been hanging out with the last couple days."

"Dean doesn't meet nice girls," Sam scoffed. "He meets bimbos with tits bigger than their IQ's, and definitely not during the day. Dean's kind of girl only looks good in the harsh neon light of dive bar."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said glaring sideways "I found someone who's helping me with the English stuff. Have you heard from Dad? Is he supposed to be back soon?"

"Monday," Bobby replied. "I'm guessing he'll be here for dinner."

"That mean we're taking off?" Sam asked.

"I'm finishing that class," Dean shook his head. "I got three weeks left then the test that Saturday. I'm not going anywhere til I finish it."

"I'm not leaving without Dean," Sam added looking at Bobby.

""Boys," Bobby sighed. "You can tell me that all you want, but you gotta say it your dad. I'm not a messenger. If you wanna stay here, you tell him that."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look then turned back to Bobby.

"I'll talk to him," Dean nodded. "He's not going to be very pleased with either of us. He probably has some big plans for the summer."

"Yeah, picnics and family vampire hunts," Sam scoffed. "We'll be just like the Cleavers."

"It shouldn't be too much of a burden for him to leave us here," Dean replied. "You'll stand with us right Bobby?"

Bobby nodded his head. "I got some work to do out in the yard." He mumbled to himself as he left the house, leaving the boys alone.

Dean stuck his book bag in the closet then flopped on to the couch next to Sam.

"You doin' anything tonight?" Dean asked. "You seem to have quite a social calendar since we rolled into to town."

Sam shrugged. "Not really. I think there's a party out by the lake, but I don't think I'm going."

"A party?" Dean smiled at his brother. "You're gettin' invited to parties after being in town for a month?"

"We basically grew up here," Sam rolled his eyes. "I know people. I'm friends with the girl next door. I have been since I was, like, two and Bobby didn't want me playing in rusted out cars and riding his dog like a horse so he took me to park down the street while you were at school."

"Huh," Dean nodded. It stuck Dean suddenly how different he and Sam were socially. Sam always found friends, didn't matter if they were in a place for a week or six months, Sam found a friend. He was able to keep them when they moved. Dean learned that friends weren't important, extra weight he didn't need.

"You don't find people you went to school with?" Sam asked. "You went to school here right?"

"First grade," Dean shrugged. "I barely remember most of them."

"We lived here basically every summer of our lives and you don't know anyone around?" Sam asked skeptically.

Dean shook his head. "If I invited a girl over for dinner would you be nice to her?" Dean thought it best to change the subject. "I think you'd like her."

"You're setting me up?"

"No," Dean groaned as if that was the stupidest question he'd ever been asked. "There's a girl I think I have a thing going with and I want you to meet her."

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"Because she's nice," Dean replied. "And I really like her, and she's smart and stuff. You could probably talk about stupid book things and stuff."

"What is she doing with you?"

"Very funny," Dean smiled slapping Sam in the back of the head. "She's special."

"Like marry her special?"

Dean laughed out loud. "No, I'm not marrying anyone. I just think you should meet her."

"Let me know when," Sam nodded. "I'll be here."

"Awesome," Dean ruffled Sam's hair. "Thanks kid."

They weren't dating, Rhonda said that about six hundred times in the two weeks that she'd been tutoring Dean, it didn't matter how many afternoons they spent together, she'd never say they were a couple. They were just friends. Not that Dean wouldn't cut his arms off to change that, but he's assumed too much the first time, and he wasn't up for that kind of humiliation again.

The Saturday after his dad got back, Dean lay sprawled on Rhonda's couch , listening to a pop up July thunder storm outside, trying to keep the events that led up to the Revolutionary War in order. Miss Hurley said that chronological order would probably be a very big part of that section of the test.

"Don't you have to be home for dinner?" Rhonda asked from across the room.

"I don't have a curfew," Dean answered never looking up from the book. "As long as I check in and let my Dad and uncle know I'm alive it's all good. Why? You want me to leave or something?"

"No," Rhonda answered. "Just curious. How's the studying going?"

"Really good," Dean looked over to her. "The note card thing is really helping. I wish I had you around when I was in middle school."

Rhonda smiled and tapped his leg until he moved his feet. She sat down and pulled them into her lap.

"This would be really awkward if I was your middle school teacher," Dean looked up her, confused, as she played with the hair on his leg.

He wasn't sure what changed, but he could tell just looking at her that something definitely did.

"Have you're girlfriends always been older than you?" she asked.

Dean shook his head. "We've usually been about the same age. I mean, umm, maybe a year or two older."

"But not old like me?" Rhonda smiled.

"No," Dean replied, smirking. "You're the only grandma."

"Shut up," she giggled.

"My uncle's been bothering me to meet this person I'm spending all my time with," Dean said. "Do you… would you want to come over for dinner or something? Sammy wants to meet you too. It would be nice. My Uncle's a great cook and stuff."

"You want me to meet your family?" Rhonda chuckled.

"Only if you want to," Dean said quickly, thinking of a way to back pedal out of this situation if necessary. "I mean, you gotta eat right?"

"Why not?" Rhonda smiled. "You talk about these people enough; I might as well put faces to names."

"Awesome," Dean grinned.

They locked eyes as she ran her hand up his leg onto this thigh beneath his shorts. Dean shifted uncomfortably, not that he wasn't enjoying the attention; it was just a little out of nowhere.

"Sorry," Rhonda fumbled retracting her hand.

"Oh, no," Dean replied. "It's cool. I just, I didn't think…"

She sighed. "I don't really know about this."

"I think we know where I stand," Dean said, pushing himself up so he was sitting instead of laying on the couch and touched the side of her face.

She was on his lap and in her bra with her tongue in his mouth before he really knew what happened. He tried to unbutton her shorts but she kept pushing his hand away.

"Miss Hurley," Dean moaned into her mouth. "I was hoping to meet this side of you."

As quickly as it started she pulled back.

"You should go home," Rhonda said, grabbing her shirt off the floor.

"Babe," Dean called after her as she stalked off to the kitchen.

"I warned you about calling me babe, Dean," Rhonda called.

"I don't wanna go home," Dean said forcefully. "I'd really like to stay here. I… I like spending time with you. It's pouring out."

"I don't think that's the best idea right now," Rhonda yelled from the kitchen. "You have a car. It's not like you're going to melt or anything. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay? I'll come over for dinner."

"Yeah," Dean sighed confused. He adjusted he pants before shoving his things into his book bag. "I guess that's cool." Confused, he let himself out and walked down the stairs to parking lot. He fished the keys out of his pocket and drove him, replaying the scene in his mind, trying to figure out what he could have possibly down wrong.

"Dean," Bobby yelled from downstairs, pulling Dean from a dreamless sleep early the next afternoon. "Phone, it's a girl."

Dean rolled off the bed and fumbled down the stairs taking the phone from Bobby and leaning against the fridge, trying to look cool and not like he'd literally just woken up.

"Hey," Rhonda voice entered his ear. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I didn't think you'd still be asleep at half past noon.."

"No," Dean shook his head. "I was up, it's all good. What's up?"

"I was just wondering what time dinner was?" Rhonda asked.

"Six," Dean answered. "We're gonna go for six."

"Alright," Dean could hear the smile in her voice. "Look, I wanna explain yesterday."

"I'm kind of in the middle of a kitchen with three other people," Dean whispered. "So… later… maybe."

"Dean's having phone sex!" Sam yelled from the table, loud enough for Rhonda to hear on the other end.

"I will kill you," Dean growled between gritted teeth as he kicked Sam's chair, hard.

He could hear Rhonda's whole hearted laugh when he put the phone back to his ear.

"Sorry, my brother's a little bitch," Dean glared wanting more than anything to smack the self-satisfied grin off his smug little face. He gave Rhonda Bobby's address and directions before hanging up and grabbing Sam's arm with both hands and twisting in opposite directions.

"Asshole," Sam stood up and tried to put Dean in head lock but Dean as faster, stronger. He had Sam on his stomach on the floor before Sam really got his hands on him.

"Boys," John sighed from the living room. "Knock it off."

Dean stood up, but shoved Sam down to the floor again before allowing him to stand up.

"Friggin' jerk," Sam mumbled, brushing his shirt off.

"Bitch," Dean smirked before running upstairs to get ready.

He met Rhonda in front of Bobby's house a half hour before dinner would be ready. She looked gorgeous as always in a blue sun dress with yellow heals. He led her into the house and into the living room where his dad was drinking beer and watching a Brewers game.

John eyed the woman skeptically, and then nodded at Dean. "Is this the girl you're spending all your time with?"

"Yes, sir," Dean nodded.

"You don't think she's a little mature for you," John said eyeing between the two of them.

"Dad, seriously," Dean sighed.

He guided Rhonda into the kitchen where Bobby and Sam were. Bobby didn't seem to have a problem with the age difference, treated Rhonda like an actual normal person. They exchanged small talk in the kitchen until the roast was done, then all sat around the table.

"You're Earl and Margaret's youngest right?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Rhonda nodded.

"Are you the one that went to school in St. Paul?"

"No," Rhonda corrected. "That was Rita; I went to the University of Wisconsin."

"What did you major in?" Sam asked his interest perked.

"Education," She smiled.

"How lucky that Dean found you then," John said skeptically.

"Oh my God," Sam chuckled. "Are you Dean's…" he was cut off my a hard kick in the shin and a piercing glare from his brother. Rhonda and Dean had decided it was probably in their best interest to not let his family know that she was his teacher.

"Where did he meet you?" Sam asked, trying to hide the little smirk on his face.

"Dive by the college that my class is in," Dean answered. "Impressed her with my dart skills."

"You know he's nineteen?" John said. "Not even old enough to be in a bar."

"It's easy to get in when they don't ID anyone, Dad," Dean said. He could tell his dad wasn't a fan of Rhonda, but he didn't want his dad thinking she was some kind of horrible person that snuck teenager boys into bars and took advantage of them.

"Sam," Rhonda turned, trying to keep everything civil. "Dean told me that you're really into the Hitchhiker's Guide trilogy? You're reading it?"

"Yeah," Sam lit up. "Have you read it?"

Rhonda nodded and smiled. Dean loved watching Sam talk about his books, he seemed so happy. Dean missed that light in his eyes. He didn't get to see it near often enough.

After they ate, John stormed off went outside clearly annoyed. Dean and Rhonda sat on the couch eating a pie that Bobby made.

"So…" Dean smiled. "My dad hates you."

Rhonda laughed and shrugged. "That's a new one. Usually my boyfriend's families love me."

"Boyfriend?" Dean questioned. Rhonda had been pretty clear that they weren't dating.

She leaned in and nibbled his earlobe. "Boyfriend," she confirmed. "About last night though." She lowered her voice and looked around the room, Sam was washing dishes and Bobby was out in yard feeding his dogs.

"If I did something weird, I'm really sorry," Dean said quickly.

"No, it's not that," Rhonda smiled. "It's... I take my job seriously. And... and when you called me 'Miss Hurley' while we were, you know... it just."

"Made you feel like you were taking advantage?" Dean guessed.

"Yeah, kind of," Rhonda nodded.

"You're not," Dean confirmed. "I swear. You're not taking advantage of me. I just... you know... think it's kind of hot... forbidden."

"You're a freak," Rhonda laughed leaning for a kiss.

"See, even your girlfriend agrees with me," Sam said from behind them.

Dean pulled away from Rhonda and sat up a little. It wasn't like Sam had never seen Dean with a girl before or anything, but there was something about Rhonda, something that made Dean feel like she needed to be pushed up on a pedestal and shown off. It didn't feel right kissing her in front of other people. They sat together on the couch, Rhonda's head on his shoulder until it got dark outside.

The moment they couldn't see Rhonda's headlights, John started arguing with Dean.

"How old is that woman?"

"She's twenty six," Dean answered turning to walk back into Bobby's house. "And I started it. She's not messing with my head or anything."

"She's too old for you," John decided. "I don't like it."

"You don't get a say," Dean replied.

"I'm your father, yes I do," John said.

"I'm nineteen," Dean said turning to face his dad. "I can do what I want."

"I don't want you to see her anymore," John demanded.

"She's tutoring me," Dean responded. "So I can get my GED. I'm going to keep seeing her."

"You take that test Saturday right? Then you're breaking up with her," John said. "I've dealt with you bringing around enough girls. I don't need you hooking up with someone old enough to be your mother."

"She's seven years older than me," Dean exclaimed. "She's not old enough to be my mother. She's a nice girl. She likes Sam. She's smart. I like her. I'm sorry you don't but you don't get a say in who I like."

"Don't talk back to me," John fumed. "You will follow my orders. If I find out your hanging around this girl after you take that stupid test I swear to God, Dean."

"What Dad?" Dean said, right up in his dad's face. "What are you going to do to me?"

A hand grabbed Dean's forearm and pulled him backward.

"Go upstairs, Dean," Bobby ordered softly.

Dean turned and ran upstairs. He understood how Sam said he felt all the time, like he was being held under their father's thumb, like had total control over everything. For the first time, Dean didn't like it. John didn't get to have a say in who made Dean happy. He was going to make this relationship last as long as possible just to spite him. Part of him was a little afraid of what his dad would do to him if Bobby wasn't around. Having that buffer there was the only think keeping them from killing each other lately. He was fine following orders, he liked following orders. He just wasn't going to let his dad decided his personal life, that was one step too many for him.