fic: Third Wheel Keeps It Upright (1/4)
TITLE: Third Wheel Keeps It Upright
AUTHOR: i_speak_tongue
CHAR/PAIR/FANDOMS: Supernatural/My So-Called Life x-over--Angela Chase, Rayanne Graff, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester--Dean/Rayanne
RATING: R--swearing (what a joke...)
SPOILERS: story is set circa 1996, but no specific spoilers for either show, besides general premise stuff.
DISC: I don't own, I just hoard.
A/N: I have a lot of high hopes for this fic. 1: that it can be read as an outsider POV fic, for those of you not familiar with MSCL, 2: that even though it's from Angela's pov, it is most definitely ALL ABOUT DEAN. I can't emphasize that enough. 3: that the gratuitous mid 90's nostalgia will amuse somebody besides me. And please to be noting that there will be eventual Dean!whumpage, and that although this is technically Dean/Rayanne, it's pretty much a gen fic, dealing with Dean and Angela's friendship. Also, I owe a huge thanks to
sailorhathor, who beta'd this puppy, and helped me smooth out the rough spots. Thanks, hon!
SUMMARY: There's this guy, right? And he's got this car. You HAVE to see them. Like... together, or whatever.
THIRD WHEEL KEEPS IT UPRIGHT
-one-
Being the new kid at school is a little like being some kind of celebrity or something. It's amazing, really. Like, how everyone watches that person just for being someone they've never seen before. Not because they don't know the person, and like, details about their likes and dislikes or whatever. God, I mean, I've been going to school with pretty much the same people for what? Ten years now? And almost all of them still don't really know me. And that's the thing, you know? Most people don't care about knowing you. They care about knowing about you. Being able to like, label you so they feel like they know the who's who of Junior year. And when you're new, there's this moment of one or two weeks, where no one knows anything, where you're like, a total mystery.
It seems like it might be, I don't know, liberating.
"He's hanging out with Tino," Rayanne says, tying some medieval-looking gold rope around her hair. We're in between second and third period, and the bathroom is crowded, as usual. You'd think it was the only one in the whole school or something.
"Who?"
"Dean, dodo! The new guy?"
"So? What do you think?" I ask. She doesn't bring up random guys for nothing. I'm so onto her.
"What do you mean, what do I think?" She sounds all distracted, looking in the mirror at her latest hair experiment, like now she's the one who doesn't know who we're taking about. I seriously can't take it sometimes.
"Rayanne. Come on. Like you haven't noticed. He's like, stunningly gorgeous?"
At that, Rayanne does this blech face and makes like she's got some intense shiver down her spine or something. And I remember when I missed this. Our bathroom talks. That big fight we had over a year ago... it's like it actually haunts me sometimes.
"Gorgeous? I do not think so. No, no, no!" she insists, singing into my ear like a little hyperactive nightingale. And then she whispers, "Hot," like it's the dirtiest word on the face of the earth. Then the bell rings, and within a few seconds we're the only two people left in the bathroom.
I laugh a little. "Okay, I stand corrected! So does that mean… I mean do you…?"
"Want to fuck his brains out?"
"Rayanne!" 'Cause, seriously, she can be so crude.
"We're gonna be late for History, Angelica…"
"Well do you?"
"Today's the Louisiana Purchase," she explains with a southern accent.
"Actually, it's the forming of the United Nations."
"Oh? I can think of a couple of nations worth uniting…" She winks mischievously and throws an arm around my shoulder as we make a dash down the hallway.
"Oh my god. What does that even mean?"
~
He has this car. When we see it, Rickie, Rayanne and I, that's when I know she wants him for sure. Bad.
"You're uh, Tino's cousin or somethin', right? Leanne?" He's sitting on the hood with his knees spread apart and his feet planted solidly on the front fender. He's eating an apple with like, intensity. The car is old and black and in really good shape. Rayanne, who'd normally be offended that someone got her name wrong, just gives him this little tease of a half smile.
"Yeah. But it's pronounced Rayanne."
"Oh. Sorry 'bout that." He shrugs.
"Honest mistake," she says, and starts slowly circling around the car like she's trying to pick it up, and not him. It's kind of fun to watch, in this perverse, like, voyeuristic way. "I'll let you off this time with a warning 'cause I like your car." She lets her index finger drag along the roof and the trunk, and Rickie and I look at each other with wide eyes. I feel like I'm watching porn or something.
"Thanks." Dean seems a little intrigued, or maybe just confused. "Uh, yeah. So do you know where he is?"
"Who?"
"Tino."
"Nope." Rayanne says, leaning her hip on the drivers' side door, and draping her long wavy hair over the hood. And she starts to like, comb it with her fingers, and Dean's staring at her now like he's seriously concerned for her mental health.
"Sometimes he skips out at lunch for the rest of the day. You know…" Rickie adds helpfully.
"Oh. Right. Sure." He takes one more bite of his apple and whips it over the fence onto the football field where a few jocks are tossing a ball around, and we all hear an irritated "Hey!" in the distance, and smile.
"I'm Rickie, and that's Angela." Rickie sounds a little nervous. Like he might start laughing hysterically for no reason. Like he must be in some parallel universe to be standing here talking to this guy. But I'm not sure if it's because he's thinking Dean's cute, or because he's hoping Dean's not a homophobic jerk. Maybe a bit of both.
They shake hands, and then Rickie tugs awkwardly at the little turquoise vest he's wearing.
"Hi," I say lamely. I get really sick of that word sometimes.
"Dean."
"So we gathered…" Rayanne says, walking back around to the curb. "Sorry about Tino. He can be a bitch to track down. He's a little nomadic. Can't stand in one place for very long."
"Run in the family?"
Oh my god. I have to cover my mouth so Rayanne can't hear me laugh.
"What?" She's frowning now, and I feel kind of bad for her.
"Forget it," Dean says. He slides off the hood and leans through the open window of his car for his schoolbag. Rayanne checks out his ass, and licks her lips, and Rickie and I start laughing. It's just too much. It's like, obscene. Rayanne has no shame.
Dean turns around, stares at us and just shakes his head, like he's clearly way too mature for us or something. And maybe he is.
"So where do you come from, Dean?" Rayanne asks, while Rickie and I regain our composure.
"That's a way more complicated question than you think."
"Cliff notes?"
"Kansas."
"And now?"
"Dad's got us in some apartment on… Michigan Av? I think."
"Shut up!" Rayanne squeaks, and slaps the side of Dean's arm, letting her fingers linger just a little longer than is like, socially acceptable on his jean jacket.
"Uh… why?"
There's only one apartment building on Michigan. Rayanne's. And I'm sure she's thinking this has to be destiny or something, and I pray to God that he doesn't reject her. 'Cause you know, she just lets herself get so worked up about things sometimes it's like, horrifying. And it's as if I'm watching a really scary movie and I have to cover my eyes at that like, pivotal moment.
"3848?" she asks, as we all head back towards the front steps of school.
"Yeah…" Dean nods, but he's looking straight ahead, his eyes squinted.
"Well, howdy neighbor!" Rayanne says, and twirls around him to shake his hand like he just bought a house from her or something. Dean smiles a little, shakes his head like he can't believe it either.
"You, uh… you live there too?"
"Darn tootin'"
"So, Rayanne. Do you… I mean if you want I could, I dunno, give you a ride home after school."
"That would be… excellent. Dean."
"Right on," he says with a wink that may or may not be inadvertent.
He takes a sharp right at the library, and the three of us are left staring at each other in the hallway with stupid half-grins on all our faces. No big rush to get to class, as usual.
"Rayanne," Rickie says, shoving her shoulder a little.
"Rickie?"
"Rayanne! He's giving you a ride home! He LIVES in your building!"
"He does?" Rayanne asks, all starry eyed, gazing up at the banner over the doors to the library: A Book is Worth a Thousand Pictures. Whatever that means. "Oh. He does, doesn't he?" she gasps.
"Like, what are the odds? It's insane," Rickie says, quieter and with his eyes squinted like he actually might not believe it.
"What? Are you jealous?" She asks, trying to sound funny about it.
"Rayanne. He's not jealous," I say, laughing nervously, which always seems like a good idea until I hear the way it actually sounds. Not diffusing tension. Making self look like freak. "It's just weird. I mean, come on. You must admit-"
"-And he's so not my type anyway," Rickie insists. "I mean, he's sort of a--a--I mean with the black muscle car? and the AC/DC t-shirt?" Don't say hick. Don't say hick. Don't say hick. "-like a head-banger, or whatever."
So I'm relieved. And as much as she would deny it, Rayanne is too. Relieved to hear he's not interested. But… insulted is how she acts. "I do NOT go in for head-bangers. Head-bangers have mullets."
I don't learn like, anything in Spanish class because I can't stop wondering if Rickie meant to say 'head-banger' all along, and actually? I'm sure he did. God. It's doubly horrible. Here I am, thinking Rickie is this shallow person, who thinks if someone drives a Dukes of Hazzard car and comes from Kansas, then that makes them a hick or something. But Rickie's not that shallow person. I am. I am a horrible, judgmental, middle-class snob.
And I blame my mother.
~
Rayanne accosts me at my locker the next morning.
"Dean Winchester. He plays pool," she says quietly, like it's some kind of national secret.
Her eyes look different when she talks about him. I've never seen her so... focused.
"And he's like, incredibly good." From the way she says it, I get the distinct impression she's not really talking about pool.
He appears behind her as we're talking, rests his finger over his lips and winks at me to tell me he's trying to sneak up on her. I guess I expect him to pinch her ass or cover her eyes or something like that. Instead, he licks his finger and sticks it in her ear.
Really. I'm not kidding.
"Jesus Christ, what-" Rayanne's irritated for like a second and a half, until she whips around and sees Dean's face there, with a big grin across it. "You jerk!" she says, but she in no way sounds like, actually mad.
"Rainy," he growls, "you look like a fucking goddess." Oh my god. He's already calling her Rainy?
She grabs the collar of his shirt and he pushes her up against the lockers. And they just start making out. With me like right there, literally inches away from their tongues.
I shut my locker, head for first period English, and try not to puke on the way there.
Shit. She better not screw this up. He better not screw this up.
~
He gives her a lift home from school every day that week. She doesn't stop blabbing about him, and the bizarre thing is, she still doesn't seem to know him that well. I mean, sure she knows he's a good kisser, she knows he likes Black Sabbath and AC/DC and some of Nirvana's earlier stuff. She knows he's moved around a lot and that he lives with his Dad and his little brother. But she has like, no idea why she's never met Mr. Winchester-when they live just one floor up-or why he's never once mentioned his Mom. Which is weird, right? Who your mother is… it shouldn't be some kind of delicate subject matter. But it's like she doesn't even exist or something.
"So… do you think it was a nasty divorce or something? Like there was some kind of… custody battle?" I whisper, leaning over to her desk just before Math starts up on Friday.
"He said they move around a lot… maybe his dad like, kidnapped them or something!"
"No way…" I say, even though the thought of it being true secretly excites me. How lame is that?
Rayanne chews hard on the end of her pencil. "Can you come to my place after school today?"
"Why? So I can like, watch the two of you suck-face on your couch during Ricky Lake?"
"What? No. Look, his Dad's out of town and he's gotta watch his little brother. Amber's making us Quesadillas."
I still don't see how that's going to stop them from making out with each other all night.
"I should really start reading Grapes of Wrath…"
"Come on! My mother like, never cooks. This is a momentous occasion! Plus, if you get to know him better then maybe…."
"Maybe what, Rayanne? We can solve the mystery that is Dean Winchester?"
"Well… yeah."
"Fine. But try to tone down the groping, if at all possible."
"No problemo."
tbc...