There was a boy inside the library, except for Sam, on a weekend. Which was something you don't see every day. Currently, the only people here are the librarian, the boy, a couple that are definitely making out behind the bookshelves (who are, and Sam is ashamed to know about this, his gym teacher and history teacher. Also, ew.), some girls who don't even go to this school and Sam himself. The school's library is open on the weekends for students who wants to take extra credit or just have an advanced review on upcoming lessons. Sam Winchester likes to come in here after finishing his chores or helping his brother, Dean with his work at Uncle Bobby's yard. Occasionally, there are some students but none of them frequent here just like Sam. He comes here all the time that the librarian, Mrs. Harvelle, becomes one of his closest friends (and someone who would actually talk to him), which was not an easy feat.

The boy's name is Gabriel Shurley. Sam knows this because, frankly, who doesn't? Gabriel Shurley is renowned for his meticulously cultivated pranks, his epiphany for candies and sweets, and his carefree, gives-zero-fucks attitude. He was one of those people who Sam immediately dislikes, mainly because of his baggy jeans and a grin that shows no teeth. But he was also one of those people that spikes Sam's curiosity.

Gabriel Shurley is trouble, and Sam wanted nothing to do with him.

'Psst.' hissed a voice coming from the shelf just behind Sam. Sam continued reading his book about religious studies and paid no attention to his surroundings.

But though the symbol of the stars has been thus interpreted by Christ, the interpretation itself has been the subject of considerable discussion. Much difficulty has been experienced in identifying the angels of the Seven Churches; and there have been various conjectures as to the station which they occupied, and the duties which they performed.

'Psst!' the voice whispers once again, derisive and impatient. Sam wonders why Mrs. Harvelle hasn't barked at this person yet. Surely this has annoyed her now.

The Scriptures nowhere teach that each Christian community is under the care of its own angelic guardian; neither is it to be supposed that an angel represents the ministry of a Church, for one symbol would not be interpreted by-

'Hey!' the voice, which clearly belongs to a guy, spoke loudly. Sam exhaled, irritated. This guy is seriously interrupting his review. The person he's trying to grab attention for almost, wow, five minutes now, is clearly deaf. Can they not hear his constant hoot?

'Quiet!' Mrs. Harvelle calls out sharply. Sam can feel her terrifying gaze at the back of his head, scanning the room. He turns around, looks at Mrs. Harvelle, and grimaces. She gives him a crisp, but understanding nod. Sam returns his attention to his book and started reading. He didn't realise that he wasn't alone, when- tap, tap. Sam held back an annoyed sigh. Damn, he can't catch a break.

Tap, tap, tap .He breathes deeply. Nope.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap-

Sam snapped, 'Sorry, but can you stop?' He doesn't tear his gaze away from his book. He's not gonna give that guy the satisfaction.

'Not until you look at me, sugar.' He frantically looks up, and finds himself looking at a very pleased, and very mischievous-looking Gabriel Shurley. 'Uh, oh,' was Sam's immediate thought. Gabriel Shurley is short, too short. He's a senior but Sam is taller than him (he's taller than most people, so he's not surprised.) Gabriel Shurley always wore a puke-green denim jacket and a toothless smile. He has light-brown- almost blond, slightly wavy hair and hazel brown eyes. His face is small, delicate, and angel-like and that smile fools no one.

'What do you want?' Sam glared at the older boy. This triggered one of Gabriel's famous shit-eating grin. Sam's internal 'fight-or-flight' response has activated.

'Oh, you know,' Gabriel Shurley twirled his curls, and batted his eyes. 'It's easy-peasy, really. I-'

'Just say it.' The younger boy says, already tired of this conversation.

'Okay, so,' Gabriel Shurley leans towards him, making Sam clear his throat. 'You know how Metatron and Naomi always makes out right over there?' Gabriel stood up and leans impossibly closer to him that Sam could almost taste the chocolate from his mouth. He gulps, and looks over where the older boy was pointing his finger at. Right, the infamous fifth row. Also known as the Boink Zone.

Their school isn't really creative with nicknames.

'Basically, I want to expose them and I need your help. 'Gabriel Shurley breathes over his ear, making him shiver. Sam turns his head over him, which was a big mistake. Gabriel Shurley, eyes sparkling, was so close that their noses are almost touching. The younger boy gripped loose wood under his desk. Sam cleared his inexplicably dry throat and luckily, found words. 'First, can you scoot?'

Gabriel Shurley leaned back and takes his seat, still grinning widely. 'Second, can't you call them by their last names? Cause it's really awkward hearing their first names. Lastly, no.'

'C'mon, please? You're the only person here. Plus, it'd be really awkward to ask Ellen.'

'Nope.' Sam goes back to his book, leaning his really warm left cheek onto his clammy palms. 'Please?' Gabriel Shurley whines, 'I just need you to take a picture. It'll only take a minute, then you can go back to your... nerdy stuff.'

'Dude, I'm not gonna help you prank our teachers. I'm not an idiot, and I don't want to risk suspension. Lay off.' Sam scowls, his eyes narrowing. He hopes he sounds threatening enough.

Gabriel Shurley just stares at him, expression unreadable. Then smiles. Sam looks at him suspiciously, trying to figure what he's planning. 'Alright, then!' He stands up and rubs his palms together. The younger boy looks at him bemusedly. Gabriel Shurley flashed him another grin. 'Make sure you're watching this, kid.' He snapped his finger and stalked away. Sam stares idly at the spot where he used to be, then he shook his head and went back to reading.

Though that ended before it started since the second he turns his attention back on his book, he hears a mighty crash, a deafening squeal, and a shutter sound of a camera. He whips his head towards the source of the commotion and was greeted by the sight of Gabriel laughing maniacally, and him incessantly taking photos of this debacle.

He blinks, blinded by the flash and takes a moment to process what was happening before him.

Looks like he did not need Sam's help with his prank, after all. The Boink Zone has been brought down, just like God has cast its wrath upon Sodom and Gomorrah. Books are scattered on the floor, its torn pages are flying everywhere. Sam could hear Mrs. Harvelle having an aneurysm from where he was sitting. Finally, the main attraction: Mr. Armstrong, buck-naked and Ms. Tapping, flushed with sweat and embarrassment. How Gabriel Shurley managed to do this escapes Sam's comprehension. It was very quiet, and the only sound that is being produced is Gabriel small giggles. Sam had to suppress a laugh, as well. 'Oh, he's going to be in deep shit.'

'SHURLEY!' Both Ms. Tapping and Mrs. Harvelle thundered at the same time, the tone of their voice promised one hell of a punishment for the young prankster. Gabriel Shurley quickly scrambled his stuff and bolted to the library door, still laughing like a crazy person. 'See you on Monday!' He calls out, mocking the teachers further. Then, he left, faster than the wind. His contagious laughter echoed in the halls, making Sam stifle a silent chuckle. He hides his smile beneath his hands while the humiliated teachers hurried to dress themselves, trying to salvage their last shred of decency and dignity (if there is left of it, anyway.)

He was still smiling even though he was cajoled to help clean up the mess Gabriel Shurley made. Until, Mrs. Harvelle comes up to him, looking positively red in the face with anger. 'You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, do you Sam?' Sam gulps. 'No, maam,' he replies, looking at the librarian earnestly.

Mrs. Harvelle scrutinized him for a second and very tightly nods. He goes back with cleaning and sweeping off the floor. Sam left early that day, wondering of Gabriel Shurley and his infectious laugh.

Sam goes straight to Uncle Bobby's after his time, very interesting time in the library. Bobby Singer is a very close family friend of theirs, although he has no connection whatsoever to the Winchester, he still treats them as if they were his own blood. He's tough, and takes no bullshit from anyone. Uncle Bobby was one of his biggest role models in Sam's life. Though he has no plans in taking over Uncle Bobby's business, doing all those yardwork, and being a mechanic of some sort.

Unlike Dean, anyway.

He opens the familiar, creaky door and the sight of Bobby sleeping welcomes him, making Sam grin instantly. He creeps silently and took a sneaky photo using his phone. Uncle Bobby's hair is greying and mussed, his eyes rolled back into his head, and his mouth hanging open, emitting loud snores. After his little dilly-dally, he decides to take a blanket from one Uncle Bobby's wooden and extremely old cabinets and placed it on top of his body. Who says you can't be nice and naughty?

Sam goes to the backdoor, immediately spotting Dean.

'Hey, jerk,' Sam greets his brother and sits on top of a red, batter Corvette's hood, the action making a 'thunking' sound. He places his small messenger bag behind him.

'Bitch,' Dean replies, head popping out from the underside of the Corvette. The older Winchester looked at him with furrowed brows. 'You been here long?'

Dean Winchester was, if Sam had to say it, very attractive. His hair is clean-cut, sandy blond hair sweeped upwards. His skin, scattered with beauty marks and freckles, is light and fair compared to Sam's sun-kissed complexion. His green eyes are both youthful and intense, complementing his full, heart-shaped mouth. He looks a lot like Mom, although Sam has only seen her face in pictures and could only remember bits and pieces of memories about her. (They were vague and short, but it all Sam has.) Dean has always been the ladies' man. The pretty, mean boy of Lawrence, as someone once dubbed him. He could get all the girls he wanted, really it's no effort- he just have to give them his award-winning smile. But the truth is, Dean has never had a serious relationship. He's 17, but the longest relationship he had was two weeks. Sam guesses it all roots down to Mom dying, and well, Dad.

He really doesn't want to talk about Dad.

'Nah, just got home.' Sam jumped down and crouched to Dean's level. It's crazy how much taller he is compared to his brother. Granted, he was only a year older, but Dean was always the tall, proud one, and he was the crouching, shy younger brother. But now he has surpassed Dean by a couple of inches. Dean was all even angles and muscles, while he was the awkward, gangly one with freakishly long legs.

Not that it helped with his reputation school, anyway. He was bullied for his height, too. At least he isn't called 'fag' anymore. Well, not every day.

'You need help?' Sam asked, silently hoping that he didn't. The last time he helped Dean with his job, he ended up having grease all over him, and a painful ankle sprain. Dean must have been reading his mind, since he shook his head.

'Nope,' Dean was so focused, his arm muscles are shaking with effort. 'Got it.'

'Alright.' He regarded his brother and wondered if this was something he wants to do after school. No offense to his Uncle Bobby, but spending all that time with broken, beaten cars and desperately fixing what's basically useless is not exactly a stable job. Sam just worries for his older brother, that's all.

He talks about life like he has no care for it, and that frustrates Sam so much. He just wants what's best for Dean, just like he does for him. Sam was about to ask him something, maybe to encourage him to think about taking a college course (cause Sam's already settle. He was going to become a lawyer, one way or another.) But was interrupted by Dean looking at him strangely. 'What's up? What's wrong with your face?'

'My face is normal,' Sam glares. 'Your face is... weird.'

Smooth, Sam.

Dean raised his left eyebrow, his whole face tainted with grime and sweat. He must feel like a badass right now, but to Sam, he just looked gross. And, well, dirty.

'Hey, are you going to that party in school?'

Sam blinks. 'You mean, the Winter Formal thing?'

Every year around February, Lawrence High have this annual Winter Formal dance. It's supposed to celebrate Valentine's Day as well. Personally, Sam thinks it's tacky. Additionally, he's not really good at dancing. Sam has never went into these types of thing.

'Yeah, no, not my thing.' Sam picks at his nails. 'You know that, Dean.'

'Yeah, you're weird at these kind of things,' Dean rolls his eyes, 'Seriously, Sammy, why the hell not?' he asks, sounding honestly confused.

'I just don't really like parties,' Sam confessed, shrugging. 'It's not a big deal.'

'Whatever, I'm gonna go. Charm the ladies, you know?' Dean winks, then does an obscene gesture with his fingers. Sam rolls his eyes. 'Plus, Benny and I are pranking that Kevin kid.' Sam perked up.

'Pranks, huh?' he thinks.

'Hey, uh,' Sam starts, immediately regretting it. 'You think Gabriel Shurley's gonna be there?'

Dean narrowed his eyes questionably. Sam can almost see the knobs turning inside his humongous head. Oh, he's never going to live this down. 'Why?' He asks slowly, his tone dripping with suspicion.

'Nothing.' He says quickly. Why did he have to open his stupid mouth?

Dean just stared at his brother, unblinking. Sam stares back, eyes straining. He feels jittery, drumming his fingers against the car hood. Finally, Dean spoke up, 'You got a crush, Samantha?' His voice sound light and teasing, but Sam knows somehow, he meant it.

'Of course not, don't be stupid.' Sam rolls his eyes and looks away.

'Right.' Dean gave him one long look, making the younger Winchester look at him indignantly. Dean shrugs and went back into doing his work