Rejected

1: Pop Quiz

Sam stared out the car window, out into the dismal Monday morning sky. The usually-blue heavens were blanketed by a mass of gray clouds, which were spitting rain.

Sam's reflection stared back. It was the same old brown fringe, golden hazel eyes like a field of wheat, and smattering of freckles. Nothing ever changed, save for a few stray pimples. Sam could see the collar of his dark blue Doctor Who t-shirt in the window's reflection.

Sam's backpack, an old brown thing that used to belong to Dean, his older brother, was at his feet. Inside of that was his school supplies, books and papers and stuff like that.

To Sam's left, Dean Winchester had a hand on the steering wheel, the other tapping to the beat on his thigh. Enter Sandman by Metallica was playing on one of Dean's cassettes, and Sam knew better than to disturb Dean's music.

Dean was older than Sam by four years and was already out of high school, but was basically the opposite of Sam. Instead of longish hair, Dean's was close-cropped. Dean also had beautiful green eyes with flecks of gold that girls couldn't help but adore. He was also athletic and outgoing, the opposite of Sam, who was quite nerdy and reserved at times.

'Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cake hole.' Dean would say.

'You know you love my music,' Dean would say.

Sam didn't enjoy Dean's music. It was all hard and jagged, if music could be described like that. The lyrics were depressing, too.

"Somethings wrong, shut the light;"

"Heavy thoughts tonight;"

"And they aren't of Snow White;"

"Dreams of war, dreams of liars;"

"Dreams of dragon's fire;"

"And of things that will bite."

As Sam said, hard and scary. Rock and roll just wasn't Sam's thing, to Dean's dismay.

Sam was more of a sensitive, cautious person. He favored Alternative music, as well as R&B.

As the black car neared Sam's school, he grabbed his bag from the floor. He swept the hair out of his face and hoisted the bag on his back. Dean coasted next to the sidewalk.

"Have a good day, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy." Sam grumbled as he jumped out of the car, into the dreary drizzle.

Monday's were not Sam's thing. He was more of a night owl than a morning person. For example, the night before, Sam had spent his night scrolling though the entire Tenrose tag on Tumblr. He had only gone to bed at 2 AM because his phone had run out of battery.

Consequently, when he had to get up at 6 AM to get to school, he had dark circles under his eyes. A small price to pay, Sam had thought. But it was worth it.

Sam left his brother in the humming Impala and joined the mass of rushing students going into the squat cement slab they called high school. Lawrence High School was nothing special. It was a generic two-story brick building, similar to just about every high school in the country.