Warning: Slight language. Sorry it's been a while. I don't know where the story's going quite yet. But I hope you like. Just another day at high school =P

Chapter Two

After English Dean had Law and Math, then during lunch he sat with Tiffany and Greg, and their friends Brittany, Leila, Devin, and Martin. Their mindless chatter centered mostly around hockey games, pep rallies, who was dating who, and parties - none of which Dean was fondly acquainted, or particularly cared about.

Soon he became bored, and allowed his mind to wander. He spotted Sam immediately upon entering the cafeteria, and was pleased to find him surrounded by friendly eight-graders, all competing to be the younger Winchester's friend. That was at least one good thing about being new in a small school, you were fresh, different, and exciting, and everyone wanted to be your friend. Dean made a mental note to catch up with the kid before lunch ended.

Dean was scanning the tables when he noticed the brunette from English sitting by herself, hardly paying attention to the sandwich she was eating, completely focused on the book she held. Dean had never been one for reading, but the content look on her face, and the excitement in her eyes made him think twice. What is she reading? he thought. What could light up her face like that? Could I spark that same feeling in her? He smiled to himself.

"Dean? Dean!" The voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"Man, I've been trying to get your attention for like two minutes. What's got you so out of it?"

"Oh, you know, just checking out everyone. I was wondering," he tried to appear casual, "that girl over there," he nodded towards the brunette. "What's her story?"

"Beth?" Tiffany scoffed. "You want to know about Beth?"

"Uh, yeah…?"

"Beth is only the biggest nerd in the twelfth grade! She's such a goody two shoes, always being polite to teachers, never does anything wrong. And don't get me started on those stupid books of hers. She always has her nose shoved in one. It's just weird."

The others agreed, adding in their own chorus of comments.

"She's such a loner."

"She has no social life."

"Beth thinks she's so smart."

"Because she is, jackass, especially compared to you. You're an idiot! Ha-ha."

"I don't know guys... I think she's kinda nice."

"Whatever. But one thing's for sure," Martin quipped, leaning back in his chair, "I'd tap that."

Laughter exploded from the group, Greg almost falling over. Dean added in his own chuckles, sneaking a glimpse of Beth. There was something about her, although he couldn't put his finger on it, that made him want to get to know her more.

Dean was finally able to catch up with Sam with only five minutes of lunch remaining. He pulled him aside near a nest of lockers.

"Hey, Sammy. How are things going?"

Turns out, better than he had first expected. Sam's classes were quote, "worth attending," the teachers were nice, and already he had made a bunch of friends. In fact, a group of them were planning on going bowling tonight, maybe shoot some pool, and just hang out. They had invited him, and the thing was, Sam actually wanted to go.

Dean looked into his little brother's smiling and hopeful face, and swallowed. If there was one thing he hated, it was disappointing the kid, but he knew he had to. No "but" about it.

"Sam, man, you know you can't. Dad wants us back at the motel right after school, where it's safe." He watched Sam's face fall, the enthusiasm and desire drain from his eyes. He was devastated.

"Fine, whatever."

"Sammy…"

"Dean, I get it," the younger Winchester shrugged, making his face an emotionless mask, indifferent and stone-like. Dean hated how good he was at that. "I'll see you after school."

"Wait-"

"Forget it, I have to get to class." He walked away, shoulders hunched. He didn't look back.

All through his next class Dean worried about Sam, not hearing any of the teacher's words. He hated letting his brother down, hated even more the way Sam closed himself off, shut everything out, shoved stuff deep down inside himself. It wasn't healthy, and to be honest, it pissed him off. Why couldn't he just talk to him?

Dean wanted more than anything for Sam to be able to go out with his friends, to be a normal kid, to have some fun. When was the last time he'd enjoyed himself? No one knew how badly Dean wanted that. This obsession of John's had made them grow up quickly, stolen their childhood and their innocence from them…but did it really need to take the joy out of their lives too? Dean would call his father later and try to get permission. He would do anything, even it meant being completely armed and standing no farther than ten feet away from Sam, he would make sure he got to go. Sam deserved it after all, a break from all this hunting and paranormal shit.

Dean's final class of the day was Honours Chemistry (and yes, he did know what he was doing. And he did make good marks. It ticked him off how people always underestimated him. He could do the work, he just didn't apply himself all the time. Who wants to be learning thermodynamics when a demon's on your ass? Or a chick's tongue is down your throat?)

Dean hadn't see Beth since lunch, and was happy to see her perched on a stool at one of the lab benches. She was buried in a book, yet again.

"Mind if I sit here?" He gestured to the empty seat beside her.

"Knock yourself out, cowboy."

Dean dropped his bookbag with a heavy thud, and parked himself uncomfortably on the stool. He tried shifting. Frig, he hated this things, it was too difficult to slouch, to relax.

"I'm Dean Winchester," he finally said.

"Bethany Ritter," she offered.

"So…what are you reading?" She turned so he could read the cover. " 'The Catcher in the Rye' huh?"

"Mmhmm."

"Is it any good?"

"I think it is." How the hell was he supposed to answer to that? Usually conversation came easily to Dean. Or, in the very least, the girls were practically throwing themselves at Dean by now. But this girl, damn it, couldn't she be more social? How hard was it? She had him at a loss for words, and he hated it.

"So, you watched any good movies lately?"

Beth put down her book, and for the first time really looked at him.

"You want to know about movies I've seen?" A small smile played at her lips. He nodded. "You know, Dean," she leaned in closer, "I think-"

"Miss Ritter?"

"Yes, Mr. Beaufort?"

"Can you please explain to us what 'specific heat capacity' is?"

"Of course, sir. Specific heat capacity is the energy required to raise one gram of a substance by one degree."

"That a girl, good job. Thank-you. But, please, don't distract Mr. Winchester."

"Yes, sir."

"Who can tell me the difference between heat and temperature? Anyone? How about you Williams?" Beaufort continued to pick on several students, placing them on the spot. Once his back was turned, Dean whispered, "Nice save."

"Thanks."

"So, about those movies?"

"I'll get back to you."

TBC