The Runt of the Litter

The College War

Note: Hey babes, thanks for the love <3

This is a chapter I've been meaning to write for a long long long time, and I just kept not getting around to it. But here it is. The College War.

In this chapter, Anna is seventeen.

The College War

"This is awesome."

"I know," Anna told Alex. "Literally just science. And I hate science, but whatever. I can just not do the work."

"You're pretty despicable," Alex laughed.

"So I've been told."

"I have four academic courses, and you just have one," she said in disbelief, looking over at Kate for confirmation that this was insane. "How did your counselor even agree to that?"

Anna shrugged. "I just told her I wasn't going to college and I didn't care about school, and she got annoyed at me and wanted me out of her office as soon a possible. So she gave me what I wanted."

Kate made an annoyed face. "I hate when people judge you like that. But I guess it worked out for you this time."

Anna leaned her head briefly on Kate's shoulder to say thanks.

"This means we don't have any classes together this semester, though," Kate said sadly.

"French," Anna said simply.

"French!" Kate repeated.

They grinned at each other.

()()()

Anna skipped down the skips of the bunker, her feet light and expression pleased. Her curly ponytail bounced between her shoulderblades as she moved.

"Guess what?" she sang as she got to the bottom of the stairs.

"What?" Sam asked her, glancing behind her at Dean, who'd driven her home, then back at Anna. "You got your class schedule?"

"Yeah," Anna said and did a little happy dance, which was really just her crossing and uncrossing her arms in front of herself to the beat of a nonexistent song. "I only have one academic class," she said and threw the paper in her hand in a dramatic show of joy. It fluttered in noisily in the air before landing almost perfectly on the map room table.

Sam grabbed it and turned it over so he could see her classes. "You weren't kidding," he murmured. But he didn't sound pleased. "Anna, you really aren't taking a math class? Or a history class?"

"They don't require 'em senior year," Anna said. "Why would I take classes I don't have to take?"

"To challenge yourself," Sam said like it was obvious. "To learn."

"Look at that thing. I've got challenges, Sam. I've got shit to learn. It's just, you know, dance and automotive and art and all that shit."

"Anna."

He'd spoken like he thought she should know what he meant. But she didn't. "What?" Anna snapped, her good mood officially out the window. "What do you want me to do? It's my last year at that place, and I don't want to spend it drowning in homework."

"Okay, both of you need to chill out a little bit," Dean announced as he stole Sam's beer off the table and took a swig. "Sammy, it's her schedule, alright? Let her do what she wants."

"Thank you," Anna said gratefully and snatched her paper away from Sam.

But Sam didn't take Dean's advice. "That schedule isn't going to look good on college applications. They want to see that you're challenging yourself."