Hey Jude | Three [Dean]
Dean had never understood the choice of a janitor's closet for the protagonist to kiss his paramour within in a typical teenage romance movie until he reached high school. It wasn't because they were romantic or roomy or warm, even. They were just convenient. Always unlocked, never checked by teachers for missing students, and easily lit.
That was where he was now.
Being the golden boy of the school, despite not belonging to any significant clubs or sports teams, had many upsides. One of them was every pretty girl that walked in the door was more than willing to say 'yes' when Dean Winchester asked her to meet him outside the janitor's closet on the third floor before fourth period.
He would like to say he remembered the names of each of the girl's he'd asked to spend a few minutes with in the closet, but he didn't. They were all faceless, nameless beauties to him. This one had dark hair and olive skin. Her name was Lisa Braeden. She was one of the few Dean remembered and one of the few Dean had asked to meet him in the closet more than just once.
But today was different than every other day they'd met.
For one, she wasn't currently kissing him. She was talking. And he'd long since learned with girls that was never a good thing.
"I don't want to keep doing this, Dean," she was saying. "I know you bring other girls in here. I know I'm not really anything special to you. You just like a distraction in between classes when fighting at night in back allies isn't enough for you."
"That's not true," he replied instantly, though it was. Every word. Well, almost every word.
Lisa meant marginally more to him than the other girls did.
"Yeah, it is," she said, straightening the white sweater she was wearing and pushing down her red plaid skirt. Skirts and sweaters seemed to be the fashion this fall. "If I'm going to keep doing this with you, I want to do it properly and not in a fucking janitor's closet. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to be able to kiss you and know you haven't been kissing anybody else. I want to be able to kiss you in front of your friends and your brother and have you be proud that it's just me you're kissing."
Dean bit his lip.
He'd never had a girlfriend before.
Well, that wasn't true. He'd had plenty of girlfriends, but they were all flings, girls he'd picked up and dropped after only a week or two, and Lisa knew that. He could tell from the way she was looking at him now.
She didn't want to be that.
She wanted something real.
Was he prepared for that?
"I don't know…" he said honestly. He didn't know. An adult relationship was a lot to commit to at eighteen, especially with the things he had on his plate.
And an adult relationship would mean telling her everything, wouldn't it? He couldn't do that. He couldn't tell her the reason that he fought was to get money so Sammy could eat, so he could have a cool house in the summer. He couldn't tell her that their father was a drunk that liked to hit his boys around the house sometimes. He couldn't tell her that the ghost of their mother lingered in the bedroom down at the end of the hall.
What would she think of him if he told her any of that?
Come to think of it, why did he care what she thought to begin with? He'd never given a damn about what any girl thought about or said about him before, but with Lisa it seemed to matter. A lot.
Lisa let out a huff, bringing Dean out of his thoughts. She moved around him in the tiny enclosed space to the door. "Well, let me know when you do know, okay?"
She sounded angry.
Dean opened his mouth to say something to stop her from leaving, but nothing left his lips-and before he knew it, he was alone in the janitor's closet. Something that had never happened before. He knew he could just go up to another pretty girl once the bell rang and ask her to meet him here and she'd do it in an instant, but for some reason what Lisa said hit something inside him.
The thought of being able to go up to her and kiss her in the hallways and know she wasn't kissing any other boys except him was a nice thought. It was a nicer thought that she could hang out with him and Benny and Cas sometimes. It was an even nicer thought still that Sammy might like her and want to hang out with them, too. Sammy was always so shut in, maybe if he brought a girl around, Sam would open up and show himself to the world. Maybe then he'd have some friends to hang out with, too.
Dean let out a heavy sigh and rested his forehead against one of the shelves full of different detergents and cleaners. He closed his eyes and let his arms hang heavy at his sides.
Why did Lisa make him want to be faithful to only one girl rather than just lose her forever and have someone new every week or every day if he felt like it? She was certainly prettier and funnier and smarter and just plain different from every other girl that he'd ever asked to come make out with him in the janitor's closet, but there was something else, too. She had something else that none of the other girls had and Dean couldn't put his finger on it.
He pushed himself up off the shelf and went back to class. He'd been gone far longer than it took for a bathroom break, but his teachers had stopped trying to keep him in line, knowing that phone calls home, multiple detentions, or even threats of expulsion weren't going to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. Despite not going to every class, despite leaving in the middle of the ones he even bothered to attend, and despite never seeming to turn in his homework, Dean aced all his tests, read every book assigned for English class, and knew the History textbooks by heart. He was a quandary to every teacher that had ever taught him and he liked keeping it that way. Then they had nothing to threaten him with.
Typically, Dean paid attention in class, if only marginally, but it was enough for him to get what the teachers were saying and, even if it wasn't, every year was really just a repeat of the year before with slightly different courses. If you'd gone through elementary school, you already knew everything you needed to know for middle and high school as well.
Twirling his pencil between his thumb and forefinger, Dean continued to think about Lisa. He didn't want to admit to himself that he liked her more than he liked any girl he kissed or any girl he'd ever kissed, but that was the truth. He liked her a lot and maybe having something real with her was the right thing to do. And what if this was the only chance he got? What if some other guy took her later? He didn't want this opportunity to be something he regretted for the rest of his life. He'd heard of those. He'd seen those. He lived with one.
The bell rang and Dean slowly gathered up his belongings along with the rest of the class.
The only problem was every other problem in his life.
His living situation being the main one. His fighting being another. He had a feeling Lisa would want him to quit and he couldn't not quit and keep her without explaining why he had to keep fighting, why he'd started fighting to begin with.
He still wasn't sure he wanted to do that.
Dean Winchester was the most beautiful boy in school. He'd kissed every girl at least once. He'd slept with half of those girls. He got great grades despite never paying attention in class and only attending when he felt like it. He fought other boys in back allies late at night because he enjoyed it not because he was dirt poor and he certainly didn't have a father that beat him and his brother when he didn't have enough to drink.
Maybe Lisa only liked the image he put on and if that was the case, there was no relationship to be had with her. Nor any other girl in this school for that matter. Because that was what they were all infatuated with. His image. Not what lay behind.
Maybe Lisa's not like all the rest of them, he thought to himself, leaving the classroom and heading towards his fifth period class. Maybe she does want to see what's behind my mask and maybe she won't care if she finds out the truth. Maybe she'll still like me for who I am.
But it was a long shot and Dean wasn't sure just yet if he was willing to take it.
That was why when he saw a pretty redheaded girl, freckles all across her nose and cheeks, in the hall talking to another boy, he walked up behind her. He gave a crooked smile and was about to tell her to wait five minutes into class to meet him on the third floor, but then movement caught his eye on the stairwell.
He saw Lisa standing there, students rushing around her, staring at him.
He stared back. She had her arms full of books. She was heading to class, but there was a look in her eye, one that told him if he did this, he was going to lose her forever. He had to abstain from other girls while he thought about a relationship with her, too.
And, if truth be told, he was still thinking.
"Dean?" the girl standing next to him made him blink and look away. Her face was hopeful, like she already knew what he was going to ask. "Is there something you wanted to say to me?"
Dean looked at the girl. She really was very pretty. She was wearing a pale green sweater and plaid green skirt. There was a matching green bow in her vibrant red hair. More skirts and sweaters. But it looked different on her than it did on Lisa. And he wanted Lisa. Not this girl.
He smiled at her. "No, I'm sorry," he said. "I forgot what I was going to say."
He left without a backwards glance, but he hoped Lisa saw the disappointed look that, no doubt, crossed the girl's features, but when he looked back to the stairwell, she wasn't there anymore. She'd disappeared into the crowd of students rushing to class.
Dean sat down in his seat at his next class just as the bell was ringing.
"Mr. Winchester!" the teacher said. He was a portly man that looked like he'd hopped out of a science cartoon rather than a flesh and blood being. "You've actually decided to join us today! What activities are you missing out on?"
Everyone in the class tittered politely, but no one really laughed at Dean Winchester. They laughed with him.
Dean smiled good-naturedly and said with more honesty than he'd ever thought he would, "Nothing of importance. This is where I wanted to be today."
The teacher smiled back. The expression seemed genuine. "I'm glad to hear it."
He turned his back on the class to start explaining the day's lesson, but Dean's mind was far from the classroom. He was thinking about a dark haired girl with olive skin in the classroom beneath his, learning proper grammar and English that she probably already knew, and wondering if maybe he could let everything go, he could take off his mask, he could show her who he was behind every façade he put up when he was at school.
What he was truly wondering was if maybe, just maybe he could be with her.