Simple Man

Amanda tapped her pencil on the purple college-ruled notebook lightly, resting her head on her chin as she pondered about her options. She had three of them; she could go home tonight, like she always did, and clean around the house or do laundry, then lay in bed and watch Gilmore Girls…again. She could go to the library and study for her Psychology final that was slowly approaching, but she was pretty prepared for it anyway. Or she could actually go out with her friends tonight, to the bar down the street from her apartment complex and finally have fun for once in her junior year of college. She knew her friends would expect her to just go home or to the library, because she was known for being an introvert most of the time. As much as Amanda didn’t want to live up to their expectations this time, she was coming up with excuses as to why she shouldn’t go.

First, she didn’t have anything to wear; she hadn’t done her laundry in two weeks simply because she was so busy studying for finals her brain couldn’t wrap itself around doing anything but studying. Second, her apartment was an absolute mess – piles of dishes stacked in the sink, dishwasher completely full of dirty glasses, plates and silverware. And third, well, she didn’t have a third excuse.

“Amanda?” She shot her head up from the desk with wide eyes and made eye contact with her professor, who was obviously waiting on an answer. “Do you agree?” Amanda turned her head so she was looking at her classmate, Ian, and gave him a look for help. He smirked and mouthed the words “obesity caused by fast food chains”. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back toward her professor. “Amanda I would have repeated the question if you had just asked. Next time remember I’m pretty cool. Ian, thank you for paying attention.”

Amanda gave a small, guilty smile to her professor and sighed, “I partly agree. I mean, we live in a world where people are too busy to make food at home, so they eat out. And let’s be honest, fast food is cheap and most of the time tastes good. It’s a guilty pleasure. Whereas, places that have healthier options, like say Panera Bread, have sky-high prices. Even at the grocery store, it’s so much cheaper to buy snacks than to buy a salad you know? When I go shopping, I look at my options and scoff. I’m a broke college student, and Ramen Noodles and chips are about all I can afford. I’m not saying that it’s the only option to eat unhealthy, but when you don’t have time to cook at home, you run out of options. But people with families, kids of their own, can’t keep feeding their children this lie of an industry. My parents did it to me, and thankfully I got out of that trap, but growing up in elementary and middle school, I didn’t eat healthy. But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t buy my own food. But this isn’t about me. I guess I’m on the fence about it.”

Professor Yates gave a small smile and nodded, “Good point. I’d like to hear more sometime.” He gave her a wink and Amanda grimaced.

“I could go on and on about the problems of this world, Professor, but I’d bore the whole class to death.”

After class was over, Amanda headed toward the local coffee shop to do some studying. She met up with her best friend Sasha and sat down in the comfortable lounge chair in the front of the store. As she opened up her backpack and got her books out, she smiled at her friend as she brought her vanilla frappuccino and graciously took it from her. “Thanks.”

“How was class?” Sasha opened her laptop and began surfing through Facebook. Sasha was the prettier one of the two, in Amanda’s opinion; she had the perfect body, with long brown and blonde ombre hair down to her abdomen. Her make-up was always done when she was in public and she worked out at least four times a week.

“Yates hit on me again,” Amanda rolled her eyes at Sasha who began chuckling. “What’s so funny about that?”

“You think any guy who hits on you is a douchebag, Amanda.”

“He is a douchebag. He’s my professor. Professors who hit on their students who are five years younger than them are douchebags. It’s in writing.”

“You’re dumb,” Sasha shook her head slowly and took a sip of her coffee, “Anyway, the invite is still open for tonight. Please come out with Wendy and me? Don’t even tell me you have to study, I know you’re ready for your finals. You’ve been studying for them since the first day of fall semester. So I’m not gonna take that bullshit.”

“Sasha, I have nothing to wear. My laundry is piled up to my ceiling. I’m wearing my last clean pair of underwear and I’m pretty sure my bra smells.”

“Amanda, this is why you buy more than one bra.”

“It takes me forever to find a bra that I actually like, and when I do I don’t have the money to get another one.”

“So save up and get one later.”

“I’m too lazy.”

“Well that’s your own fault. Just throw an outfit into the washer when you get home and it’ll be done by the time we go to the bar.”

“I’ve run out of make-up.”

“Use mine,” Sasha rolled her eyes, “And you don’t need make-up anyway. You look perfect without it. Besides, Andrew is gonna be – holy shit.”

Amanda looked at Sasha’s wide eyed face and turned her head in the direction she was looking. Two men stood in line and Amanda laughed. Sasha never kept to herself when she saw an attractive man. “Sasha stop drooling.”

“Who is that fine piece of meat?” Amanda rolled her eyes. Sometimes, if she didn’t know any better, Sasha would have been better off born a boy the way she talked about men. “Amanda, seriously, look at him.”

“Which one?”

“The taller one, with that Fabio-looking long brown hair. He’s gorgeous. The other one’s not half bad, either, but damn. Look at him, Amanda.”

“I’m looking. Now can you stop staring before they notice?”

“You need to have more confidence, girl. Maybe they’re both single.”

“I highly doubt it,” Amanda laughed and took a sip of her drink, then turned her focus back toward her books. “Now can you let me study for a bit? Two of my finals are on Thursday. It’s Monday. Quiet, please. And don’t do anything stupid. Or I won’t go out tonight.”

Sasha put her hands up in defense, “I’ll behave so well, Mommy. I promise.”

--

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around with a bored look on his face, then turned to his brother, Sam. “What are we doing here, Sammy. This ain’t my vibe, you know.”

“I just want some coffee.”

He raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “Since when do you drink coffee, Sam.”

“Since you were dead for four months and I didn’t sleep at all.”

“Can we not bring that up? I said I’m sorry, okay? It’s not like I wanted to die.”

“You made a deal with a demon, Dean. And agreed to live for one year so that I could live. That comes pretty close to wanting to die in my book,” Sam laughed as the barista handed him his coffee. “You want anything?”

“Is there anything I would drink here?”

“Water. That’s about it.”

“I’m good,” Dean looked around again and he stopped when he laid his eyes on a girl sitting in a chair at the entrance of the coffee shop, nose deep in books. Every minute or so she would push her glasses back up her nose and pretend to laugh at what the other girl with her was saying. “Sam, look over there.”

“What am I looking at?”

“Two girls, you idiot. Aren’t they hot?” Sam rolled his eyes and sat down at a table. “What?”

“Why do you have to talk about girls like that?”

“How long have you known me?”

“Touché.”

“You wanna go get a beer later tonight?” Sam gave Dean a look and shook his head. “Come on, Sammy. We have no leads on a job for once in our lives. Can we just have fun for one night? I’m begging you. I won’t get too drunk, I promise. And we can do whatever you want tomorrow.”

Sam sighed and looked at his brother, then at his laptop. Dean was right. They were in Kentucky, passing through, and hadn’t gotten word about anything suspicious from Bobby or the newspapers. To be honest, Sam wanted to take a small break from hunting, too, and needed to let loose a bit. There was a bar close to their motel that looked pretty busy the night before with a bunch of college kids. After all, they were staying in a motel on campus. “Fine. But tomorrow, we’re doing laundry. Your car is starting to stink with dirty clothes.”

“’Atta boy, Sammy!” Dean smiled in victory and shook his fist. Then he looked back over at the two girls and smirked. He noticed the smaller girl staring at Sam, but the other girl was on the phone now, sitting Indian-style on the chair. Dean had to admit it, she was cute. She had extremely curly hair down to her chest and she was tall, probably close to six foot. He didn’t mind a tall woman. She was curvy – a normal looking girl. Her smile was a bit contagious in his opinion.

“Dean.”

“What?” He looked over at Sam and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Quit staring. You’re gonna creep the poor girl out.”

Dean gave his brother a small smile. “Man, she doesn’t even notice me.”