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"I mean it's so cool," Sylvia continued while the waiter placed our burgers on the table in front of us, "you have a weird last name, you don't know who your parents are, and they tatted you when you were a baby with the same tattoos they have." She half heartedly waved her hand in the direction of my left arm. I thanked the waiter, hoping she would finish up the tangent she had been on for the past week.
"It's just a book. None of that stuff is actually real. Supernatural is just a story."
Sylvia and I had been friends for the past four years. It was usually just the two of us because I was pretty sure I was the only one that could put up with her painfully optimistic attitude and intense and never ending energy. We had been going to Calvin's Bar once every two weeks since we were 13 and thought we were old enough to eat greasy food where all the local drunks hung out. She pulled her dark and curly hair out of her face.
"Oh come on Leigh," she refused to drop the subject, "It's not all some crazy coincidence." I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my food. She was getting excited now, increasing her volume with each word until she was practically shouting in the practically empty restaurant. "I bet your brother's last names are Winchester! Just like yours- OW!"
My foot connected with her shin from underneath the table and I shot her a glare. The two men in the booth next to us watched us with raised eyebrows and alarmed expressions. I didn't need her ruining other peoples meals along with mine.
"Sorry," I grimaced with an apologetic look and a sigh.
The taller one of the two smiled back in reassurance. "It's fine." I embarrassedly turned my attention back to my friend who sat on the edge of her seat with excitement.
"You need to cut this out." I whispered harshly. She gave me a look of innocence and popped another ketchup drowned fry into her mouth. "Sylvia, I am serious. I know you're a fan of these books and that's great but please, please, leave me out of this. They're books, not my long lost autobiography."
"Maybe you'd like them if you gave them a chance. Just read the books," she was still pressing but all of the passion had left her voice. I loved her to death, but when it came to her obsession with Supernatural, I wanted to strangle her. She pulled at a loose string on her pink sweater with a perfectly manicured nail. Everything she did was graceful. She was tall with dark skin that always had perfectly applied makeup. Not like she needed it. We were total opposites. I wasn't a total slob by all means but I also could leave the house in less than 30 minutes if I needed to.
I rolled my eyes again, but this time, it wasn't in annoyance. As much as I tried not to, the corners of my lips turned up. "I tried to, remember?"
I had read the first one, and in my honest opinion, it sucked. The plot wasn't terrible and the characters were interesting enough, as much as I hated to admit it. I just could never get myself fully immersed in them like everyone in my school.
