Jesse looked up, and wiped at his eyes hastily. "Go away, Claire."

"No," she returned, dropping into one of his beanbag chairs. He turned away, bottom lip stuck out. "I'm sorry, Jesse."

He glanced at her, and then away again. "You're my best friend, Claire, but sometimes I don't like you very much."

Claire tucked her legs under her. "Sometimes I don't like me very much either," she admitted. "I'm sorry I picked a fight."

"I don't care about that," Jesse snapped.

Claire flinched.

Jesse looked away, his face red, and Claire kept her mouth shut. Jesse studied the floor like it was the most interesting thing ever. "You shouldn't have kissed me," he muttered. "You don't like me; you just wanted to make Castiel mad."

The room abruptly changed color from blue to red and back again. Claire ignored the show, worrying her bottom lip.

Dating had never really been her thing, and the two boys she had kissed before Castiel meant nothing to her now. Claire's chances at dating after Castiel were shot even if she hadn't taken to hanging out with a younger boy.

Jesse hasn't shown any interest in dating in the three years that she had known him.

"Jesse?" she asked slowly. "Was that your first kiss?"

"Yes," he growled, daring her to make something of it.

Claire worried her bottom lip, and moved to kneel in front of Jesse, balancing herself lightly with two fingers pressed to his knee. Jesse's eyes widened. "What are you-"

"Shut up," Claire told him and prevented a reply by kissing him again.

Well, really it was more a quick brush of dry lips, but that's what a first kiss is supposed to be like—not the angry, passionate one of earlier. Jesse was right; Claire had one thing on her mind earlier, and it was Castiel. Claire colored in shame, but she maintained eye contact.

"The next time you get kissed, it should be like that," Claire promised him. "Or I'll kick her ass."