The Hunter's Girl (Dean Winchester Fan Fiction)

Chapter Nineteen: More Trouble Than You're Worth

A/N:

Warning, this chapter ends at a cliff hanger!

__________________________________________________________ 

                The next morning, when I woke up, the only word to describe how I felt was sluggish. The night before still felt like something I must have only made up in my head. I stayed in bed for a little longer than usual just reminiscing on what happened. However, my groggy mind managed to help me remember that if I didn’t get up soon, I would have been late for school.

                After finally getting up and taking a shower, I jogged downstairs to grab a bite to eat before I finished getting ready. The house was silent besides the sounds of my feet padding lightly on the floor. Becka must have gone to work already. I had wanted to apologize about last night and tell her that we could talk tonight, but it seemed as though I would need to wait until after school to do that.

                I barely finished getting ready when the bus pulled up at the curb by my house. Climbing aboard, I made my way down the narrow aisle to my normal seat, where Hazel was already sitting. We chatted idly about this and that, anything from shows to music, as usual. But Hazel was acting a little strange. She seemed distant, and her normally bright and bubbly attitude had grown dimmer. I brushed it off as her just being tired. After all, it was eight in the morning, so I couldn’t blame her for being sleepy.

                Hazel and I walked into school together and said our goodbyes. She went down one hallway, I went down another. As the math classroom got closer, I became acutely aware of how plain I looked. My dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and the black Nirvana t-shirt that I wore wasn’t particularly flattering. It wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary, so I didn’t understand why I suddenly felt self-conscious of my wardrobe. It was probably, I concluded, because of the fact that I was now Dean Winchester’s girlfriend.

                I guess I just didn’t know, or even begin to understand, one simple question: why? In romance movies, the main girl always asks herself why the boy likes her; why he chose her over all of the other girls he could pick from. The thing is, the audience can always see the girl’s good traits. We know exactly why the boy picked her. Whether it was for her concealed beauty, or her sweet attitude, or her amazing intellect, it’s easy to see for everyone except her.

                Even though I hate the self-deprecating cliché, I can’t help but feel the same way. I’m not extraordinarily pretty, nor am I a very nice person or exceptionally smart. So, what does Dean see that I can’t? I guess it’ll have to stay a mystery, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him about it.

                Sighing, I rubbed one of my temples. This was no different than any other day in class. I can’t start changing or caring about petty things such as how I look just because Dean asked me out. That’s beneath me, right? Now that I had pulled myself together more, I was about to walk the rest of the distance to the classroom before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I immediately tensed up, but the familiar smell of campfires and cinnamon made me relax.

                “Good morning, Kim,” Dean said with a smile, removing his hand from my shoulder and shifting his position to stand in front of me with his hands in his pockets.

                “Right back at you, Winchester,” I retorted, letting out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

                “Did you sleep well last night? After we talked, I mean. You had me pretty worried,” he said. Even without looking at him, as I was trying to find a place to stand that wasn’t smack in the middle of the hall, I could practically hear his furrowed eyebrows. Sure enough, after I found a nook that wasn’t crowded with people and moved us to it, his eyebrows were knitted together.