Trigonometry And Tattoos

One Person Walk Out

Castiel walked into class and plopped himself into his seat. He was not ready for this class. He thinks math is just dumb and stupid and pointless and when is anyone ever going to use this in their lives? Exactly! They won't! So what's the point?! Anyways, let's not get too worked up about this.

Castiel sat down and looked at his new work sheet to get done in class today. He had to wait for the teacher to walk to the front before he could start. The teacher was nice, the subject was not. Mr. Crowley was a great teacher and all, but algebra just looked like incomprehensible numbers and letters. They just didn't click in his brain. He's more into art and literature and photography, he wasn't made for math!

Eventually, Mr. Fergus- I mean, Mr. Crowley walked to the front of the room and told everyone to get started while he finished up grading some test at the front of the classroom. Castiel silently looked down at his paper letting out a small sigh.

Okay, so, a+ar+ar squared=13. What is the value of r?
What? How the hell do you expect us to figure this out?! This is... this is just...

Castiel found himself bolting up out of his seat uncontrollably saying "All of this! This is bull shit! How are we suppose to figure this stuff out?! I can't do this, I'm done."
And he stood up to walk out of the classroom leaving everyone in the classroom in shock.
"Castiel! Castiel Novak! Sit back dow-"
Before Crowley could even finish his words, the classroom door had been shut behind Castiel.
Mr. Crowley took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking on what to do next.

"Mr. Winchester."
Dean's head shot up mostly in surprise.
"Uh, yes sir?"
"I'm assigning you to be his official after school tutor, and during school tutor, now go find him and convince him to come back to class."
"Uh, yes sir."

Dean stood up from his desk, checking the clock first.
30 minutes until class ends, thank god, I may be good at math, but I hate this class. I hate school. Why did I sign up to be a tutor?
Dean opened the door, giving Crowley a reassuring look before walking out and closing the door behind him.

Alright, now, if I was a teen who walked out of class due to stress, where would I go? The bathroom!
Dean walked down the empty hall to the bathroom at the end of it.

Now that I think about it, I've never had a full conversation with Castiel, well, this should be a good start.

Dean walked into the bathroom expecting Castiel to be in front of the mirror, but to his surprise, the bathroom was empty. He looked through all the stalls, opening each door expecting him to be in one of them, but he wasn't.

God dammit! Where could he be?
Dean started to slightly panic, not knowing where Castiel could've possibly gone.

An empty classroom? No, there are none at this time. Uh, a janitors closet? I mean, it's worth a try.

Dean walked through the school to one of the two janitors closets they have in the school, it was locked tight, so for safe measure, he knocked on it to make sure Castiel wasn't in there. And when he realized there was no way to lock a janitor's closet from the inside, he started to lose all hope that Castiel was even in the school.

Wait, maybe he's not. The courtyard! Why didn't I think of that earlier?!
Dean tried his best to quietly run down the main hall to the double doors by the lunch room. After making sure no teachers were around, he opened the door to find Castiel sitting on a table facing the parking lot.

Dean slowly walked up behind Castiel, to make sure he wasn't crying.
"It's a nice place to be alone during school hours. Too bad you had to walk out of class to see it."
Castiel slowly turned his head to the left a little, saying
"Oh, hey Dean. What are you doing out here?"
"Big man Crowley told me to come get you, and since you weren't in the bathroom or either of the janitor's closets, I remembered this was the only other logical place you could be."

He sat himself next to Castiel, making sure the old concrete table wouldn't shift any.
"So, what's up? Talk to me."
"Math is stupid. I have all this stress from it because I can't friggen pass it! I could get a scholarship to multiple places, I could do anything! If I just passed algebra! BUT I CAN'T!!"
Dean grabbed Castiel's shoulders and sat him back down
"Cas, you're yelling, you don't want someone to find us outside. Also, Crowley assigned me to be your official tutor, so you'll get plenty of help, I hope."

"Yeah, whatever you say."
Castiel said as he took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it, taking it out with a string of white smoke right behind it.
Castiel turned to Dean, hading it to him, to Castiel's surprise, he turned down.
"I'm a football player, I can't do that."
"Let me guess, you only smoke at parties." Castiel stated sarcastically putting the cigarette back in his mouth.
"Actually, I don't go to parties. Well, I went to one, but a bunch of girls kept hitting on me and I didn't like that very much."

Castiel took the cigarette and set it down on the table.
"You of all people don't like girls hitting on you?"
"What is that suppose to mean?"
Castiel threw the cigarette down and stomped on it.
"Well, you're a jock, don't you get all the girls?"
Dean stood up in anger and shock.
"What? Just because I'm a football player, that means I'm some sort of man whore?"
Castiel got up trying to correct himself
"Oh, no, n-no, I meant, I just thought that you didn't mind having a bunch of girls on you at once."

You're digging your grave deeper, Castiel.
He thought to himself, trying to get Dean to calm down.
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting out a slightly nervous, slightly angry, slightly sad chuckle.
"I'm going to be real with you, I don't like girls hitting on me, okay? They never really have appealed to me. I've told a few girls before and they all said the same thing. I don't know if it's because they were drunk or high out of their mind or what but they all said 'Maybe I can change that for you.' as if being gay is just some thing you can flip a switch on. Well, it's not! I don't want to feel that angry after trying to have a fun night with the football team, nearly smashing Garth's face in out of anger. He got me to calm down, but after that, I broke down crying. If girls who wanted to hook up have that reaction, what will my dad think? I know my mom will be supportive, but my dad..."
Dean looked at the ground, feeling the tears well up in his eyes.

"Tell anyone what I'm about to tell you and you're a dead man, got it?"