Who: Castiel and OPEN
Where: Out by the track upon the bleachers.
What: Young boys can be a bit sentimental.
When: Saturday, April 16th, afternoon
Rating: SFW
For once in his life at Dalton, Castiel had left his notebook in his room. He felt naked without it, but that didn't matter when he had no plans of engaging anyone in conversation (and he doubted anyone wanted much to do with a freshman.) People left you alone so long as you practiced the same courtesy. He wasn't the most well-mannered boy - he lacked tact and restraint - but Cas was no stranger to the unspoken rules of minding your own business. Right now he didn't feel like entertaining anyone. All he wanted to do was flip through the one scrapbook he'd snuck from home: On every page was one of his firsts. He looked so tiny, so vulnerable, so innocent. He still was innocent in many ways, but he thought that he was losing some of that spark. As a kid, you could laugh at anything; Cas wasn't much of a laugher, let alone a smiler. That had to change. Boys his age were supposed to be rowdy and rambunctious, eager to stir up some trouble. But no, Cas was so mellow.
The air felt oddly humid though it may have been Castiel's imagination. He touched his fingers to the photographs, wondering if his mom would one day forget that he was her own, much like she forgot the day of the week or left her glasses upon her head. The thought concerned him. "I really am homesick." He smiled to himself. "But I can't go back... I'll hang in there for a few more weeks."