Carry on my Wayward Daughter: A Supernatural FanFic

Chapter Seven: Stay

… 1999 …

                Falling in love with Dean was agonizingly slow; I didn’t even realize it was happening until he absent-mindedly touched my hand while we were deep in conversation at the diner. After that the changes became less subtle. About a week ago he was sitting at the bar at Cassidy’s diner and I was doing my job: being Holly – which meant being perky, flirty, and not vomiting when boys touched me. A boy around our age caught the back of my shirt around my waist to get my attention to order. In front of me I saw Dean stiffen. While that boy was ordering he laced his fingers through mine with one hand and stuffed his number in my back pocket with the other. Dean almost shocked me when he reached in my pocket, retrieved the number, and handed it back saying “She’s not interested.”

                Later that day in the ride to my house (Sam and I often swapped off as shotgun in the Impala) I asked him, “Why’d you do that?”

                “Don’t tell me you were interested.” He said wrinkling his nose in a cute bunny-rabbit way.

                “Hey,” I said raising my hands in defense, “he was pretty cute.”

                “Guys like that only want sex.” He deadpanned.

                “Oh and like you’re any better,” I laughed.

                “I’ll have you know I am.” He said smiling to himself.

                I leaned across the Impala and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered and leaned my head into the crook of his shoulder and neck and closed my eyes to fall asleep. Just before I drifted off I felt his arm slip around my body.

The next day we kissed on the Impala, the cold shotgun window glass pressing into my back. I had kissed other boys before, but it had never had this feeling on me. Kissing Dean made this feeling in my gut jump and I felt like crying. It was all very strange. We had just been talking about Sam’s progress in school and tutoring when he grabbed my chin and pressed his lips into mine. I felt him smiling as I opened my mouth to let him in.

Now I stand in front of a mirror trying to get my outfit just right. (As if he would even care.) Earlier today he had drove me to the diner, after having dropped Sam off, and asked me out or something. “Pick you up at 8?”

“Wait what?” I said turning in my seat alarmed.

“Oh come on. I’m not gonna maul you. I just thought we could go out or something.” He grabbed my hand resting on the center console and squeezed it.

“Like a date?” I squeezed his hand back.

“Yeah. As your respected boyfriend it is implied that I take you on a date.” He said smiling as he mocked me.

“My boyfriend? Are we seriously at that stage? We kissed once.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“You’re right. The criterion involves at least two kisses and a date.” He smiled such an adorable smile that I almost just kissed him then.

I didn’t though. I was saving that for tonight.

I braided my hair, unbraided it, and then braided it again. My bangs flop unhappily on my forehead as I blow them out of the way in an exasperated sigh. I pull on my tan sweater and jeans, just enough effort so I try but not too much to look like I tried. You’re overthinking this, Addie.

I try to sneak out by my parents, but obviously my luck sucks. “Where are you headed?” My mom asks looking up from her notebook.

“Out with a friend” I say trying to sound nonchalant.