Chapter Seven
7.)Chapter Seven
The day doesn’t go as quick as Dean had hoped it would. It leaves him staring at the clock, wishing for the first period to end. The moment he is able, Dean ditches the pity-eyed teachers and curious-faced students. He’s never been able to stick inside educational buildings long, although he does stick close. One day, Sam will actually agree to go with him and he could ditch the school all together. Until then, Dean stuffs his hands into his pockets and settles against the wall. It’s a peaceful quiet for a while but, it doesn’t take long for it to be disturbed.
Across from where he stands, a familiar set of gleeful taunts pulls him from the haze of boredom. A figure in skinny jeans, adorned with hunched shoulders is flanked by three other boys, one of which is Logan Fells himself. Seeing the sight of Logan, squeezed in the middle of the duo with his arms slung around both boys, is when Dean realizes that this is the typical sight; not just a casual fling. Laughter erupts from the goons as Logan snickers something towards them. Dean rolls his eyes and lets his feet lead him. Thoughts of the girl - Jenna - linger in the back of his mind but this isn’t just to set an impression. The likes of Logan Fells were running rampant in these towns and what better way to waste time than playing hero?
Hands still stuffed in his pockets, Dean makes his way towards the older boys. He slaps his hand across ‘emo-boy’s’ back and grins. “So, man, you owe me that soda.” He says easily. “Or you know, beer would be cool too.”
Salvatore eyes him with a scowl, but before he can make that initial push, Dean releases his grasp. So much for trying to be nice.
“Winchester.” Logan greets him casually. The age difference doesn’t seem to matter like it would to most kids, though Dean knows he looks older than he should. He’s taller than kids his age, having hit a growth spurt early. At thirteen, he’s as tall as the seniors.
Dean lets his grin shift the way his father does when he wants to threaten without being obvious. Subtleties are important. Subtlety is how you get away with it - whatever ‘it’ happens to be. Inwardly, Dean knows his father would either be furious or proud. Proud, because Dean remains unintimidated; furious because he’s ditching class and getting caught.
“Logan, right?” Dean notes Logan’s hesitant nod. “So, what's there to do around here?”
Logan shrugs his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. Boy band style, the tool, Dean thinks and his lips peel back in amusement.
“Don’t know man,” Logan says, “pretty much nothing.”
Dean starts to say something, managing only a breath as the distraction falls into his line of view. Jenna Sommers makes her way toward him, one hand holding her purse under her arm and the other waving at them. She stops just behind Logan, linking their elbows. It takes effort to keep his face natural as she reaches up to kiss Logan. Why it bothers him, Dean can only guess. Logan smirks at him like he’s won something. Dean smirks back, the laughter in his eyes accepting Logan’s challenge.
“Hi Dean!” Jenna says by the time she pulls away, like she’s known him all her life. Dean flashes his heart-warmer grin her way. Her gaze towards Salvatore goes unnoticed by Logan and the other boys. Dean watches as they exchange glances, her lips curled ever-so-slightly, as if in recognition of the situation.
“What’s up?”
Logan catches his words before Dean can think up something that doesn’t sound lame. “Nothing, just catching jailbait ditching class like he's got somewhere to be. That's cool - hanging around the back of the school. You're a keeper, tiger. Find the drugs yet?”
Dean fights the scowl, not wanting to let Logan know he’s affected. This is stupid, he grumbles at himself inwardly, get your shit together. “Hey man, I was just waiting for Jenna. I don’t know what your problem is, dude.”
The boy glowers at him, and Dean’s grin returns. Jenna glances beside him, presumably at Salvatore. Logan forces his face together into an amused, sloppy grin as Jenna’s gaze returns to him. His beady eyes remain the same though; tinted with a mean glint. “Cute, kid.” He says and Dean can’t help but narrow his eyes, “your mother would be so proud.”
Dean clenches his jaw, his fists practically forming all on their own. How he’s going to manage to keep from pummeling the guy was the question of the day. It was a comment made out of sarcasm but nobody talks about his mother. There were always snips and snaps and threatened boys but Dean doesn’t take shit easily. Not even from dip-shit cult leaders like Logan Fells.
This is when Jenna decides to step in. She glances at him, then Logan and slaps at Logan’s arm with a frown. “You coming to the party tonight, Dean?” She interrupts pointedly, like they weren’t on the verge of a fist fight.
Dean blinks at her, taking a moment to cool down. Beside him, Salvatore is forgotten, slinking away from the group altogether. “You going to be there?” Dean asks, his gaze on Logan’s clenching muscles.
Jenna beams at him, enough to retrieve his triumphant smile but, it’s already melted by the time it lands on her. “I have to,” she admits with a dramatic sigh, “Best-friends duty and all that. You should come, it’ll be fun.”
“Come on Jenna, we don’t want kids hanging around. It’ll look bad.” Logan complains, adding an “ouch!” when Jenna gives his arm a fisted punch. ’Atta wimp Dean thinks, shooting a narrowed glare at Logan.
Jenna diverts his attention - again - when she talks again. “It’s down by the falls. Just ask around. You can’t miss it. We’ll see you there.” She tugs at Logan, the two wanna-be goons trailing behind them, as her voice fades. “Do you always have to be an ass, Logan?” He hears before Jenna’s too far out of ear-shot.
Dean tilts his head, just a bit, watching as Jenna leads the boys back into the school. It’s when the doors swing shut that Dean remembers Salvatore and turns only to find the previously occupied spot empty. He shrugs and begins to make his way into the school. If nothing else, Logan was right about not having anything else to do.
Two hours later, the intercom calls out his name in a bothered voice. Dean is silently grateful for the escape from class, but dreads the meeting. It usually takes a week for the principals to push past their pity and call on him, but it hasn’t even been a day. The fact that it couldn’t be him makes Dean nervous. Sam is good at staying out of trouble for the most part but when he does get in trouble, it’s no small event.
Dean has to make an effort to keep his pace calm-like. Nonetheless, worry for Sam quickens his pace and Dean plasters the don’t-care look on as he strides into the office without care for the secretary whose startled voice blends into the white noise of panic.
An inexperienced teen would blurt out their guilt in a shrill ‘I didn’t do anything’ but Dean knows better than to show his fear. Of course, that might have something to do with his lack of it. Knowing that you’re guilt free goes a long way towards confidence. Keeping his head held high, Dean steps just outside the door. The principal is a tall, lengthy woman with stern features and glasses that rest too far down on her nose. Her wrinkles twist her worried smile into an old woman just over her forties.
“Mr. Winchester,” She greets, “Have a seat.” He doesn’t move.
“Sit.” She says with double the force. Dean shifts, not bothering to stifle his sigh as he obeys. “I’m aware that you and your brother are newcomers here in Mystic Falls. Debuty Forbes explained your situation, however, that does mean you or he will receive special treatment.”
Didn’t expect it, even in his head, the words are muttered in a sullen glare. Dean stares straight ahead, arms crossed as he leans casually against the chair. He can’t help the twitch of his lips as the woman sharpens her glare.
“I received a call concerning your brother from our elementary principal.” She continues pointedly, “Something about a fight on the playgrounds? He’s fine, though the other student has a fracture.”
The woman gives a pregnant pause, her glare dimmed into a pursed frown as she studies him for a reaction. Dean easily meets her eyes, arms crossed as he leans against the chair. “Yeah, so?” He demands after a few moments pass.
With a sigh, the woman pulls off her glasses and rubs at the forehead between the eyes. “I don’t know where you last went to school or how they handle things, Mr. Winchester, but we most certainly do not tolerate violence. Please make sure your brother understands that.”
Sensing the end of the conversation, Dean makes move to stand.
“Hold on a moment there, son.” The woman pulls the desk chair back and opens a drawer. She shuffles through files before returning to her original position. Opening the file on her desk, the woman returns her gaze down on him. “We couldn’t get a hold of your father,” she said, “Or Mrs. Forbes. Is there anybody else we can call during an emergency?”
Dean pauses with a grunt. “No.” He says easily, “It’s just them. Can I go now?”
The woman gives him a long piercing stare before she finally nods her head. She reaches over with a notepad, scribbling something on it. “I expect to see you back ASAP, Mr. Winchester. Don’t dilly dally, got it?”
“Yes Ma’am.” The lie slipped from Dean easily, followed by his trust-me smile. He nearly snatches the note from her hand as she extends it towards him, out of the room before she could tell him to wait one last time.
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