#deanand reader

“Earth to Dean! Will you pay attention already? I have to leave for dance soon, and we aren’t even half done. And stop playing with my hair!” I shove the Biology book away from me and glared at him. 

We are studying for our Biology test in the mostly empty library one day after school. Dean, who has been busy twirling one of my curls around his finger looks up in surprise. “I’m listening! Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Um…..Okay.” I reply warily.

“When do you get to be a teenager?” he asks quietly, his eyes meeting mine.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re always running to dance practice or studying. Why do you practice so much? When do you get to have fun? Do you even know how?” For once, his trademark smirk was missing, and his eyes looked sad.

.“I work so hard because I want to be a professional dancer. I want to go to Juilliard.  My mom works her ass off, but money’s been tight since my dad died.”  Tears filled my eyes. I was suddenly on the verge of bawling, but I couldn’t let Dean see me break down. “I…I need to get a book off the shelf, I’ll be right back.” I pushed back in my chair and ran into the stacks. I stopped in a corner, my chest heaving and tears pouring down my face.

“Y/N,” Dean said quietly, his hand on my shoulder.  “Are you okay?” I whirled around to face him, my back pressed against the bookshelf, and Dean’s tall form looming in front of me.

“You’re right, you know. I’ve been working so hard I’ve forgotten how to have fun,” I admitted sheepishly.

 He leaned in closer until our chests were practically touching. Reaching out, he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.  “Consider this lesson one,” he said in a thick voice as he leaned down and cradling the side of my jaw in his huge hand, he brushed his lips against mine. I jumped as though an electric current had jolted through me.

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I began to cut back on dancing to spend more time with Dean.  My teacher Miss Julia wasn’t happy about it, but she could see we were young and in love so she let it slide for the moment. It was hard, but I managed to find a balance between dance, school, and Dean.

I lost my virginity in the back of his dad’s ‘67 Impala, and that was the first time I told Dean that I loved him. I thought about him all the time. He was planning on working in his dad’s garage when we graduated, but the thought of being separated from him was getting harder and harder to bear.

“What’s going to happen to us if I get accepted to Juilliard?” I asked one day as we lay on the grass outside school studying for finals. “It’s all the way in New York. I don’t think I can stand to be that far away from you.” I said with a pout.

“What if I came with you? We can get a crap apartment somewhere, and I’ll get a job as a mechanic while you go to school.  At least we’ll be together.”

I jumped into his arms. “You would do that for me? But what about your Dad’s shop?”

He hugged me tightly. “I want to be where you are.”

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The news came a week before graduation. I had gotten a full scholarship to Juilliard! I couldn’t believe it and after telling Dean, I practically ran to the studio to tell Miss Julia. She asked me to take a seat in her office. “You are the most gifted dancer I have ever taught, Y/N.  I have no doubt you will go far.”

“Dean is moving to New York with me so we can be together. He is going to get a job while I go to school. Everything is working out.”

Miss Julia looked sadly at me. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t mention this. Having him go with you is a big mistake. You are going to be working harder than you’ve ever worked before, dancing 16-hour days.  You need to be at the top of your game, and keep your distractions to a minimum. End it now while there still is time.”

But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’d tried to broach the subject with him, but it never went anywhere. Then graduation happened and we were leaving the next week. Finally, I  had no choice. He had just taken me to dinner and the words came spilling out. “Dean, we need to talk about something,” I began tentatively.

“Okay, shoot.”

“I don’t think you should come to New York with me,” I said in a rush.

“What? Why the hell not?” he demanded.

“I need to be focused on my dance, and you’ll just be a distraction.  I’ll always love you.” I tried reaching for him, but his eyes were cold as he backed away.

. “Are you sure this is what you want? If I leave now, we are done. And for the record, I think you’re making a terrible mistake.”

“I love you, but I think this is best for both of us,” I said sadly.

He shook his head in disbelief and headed for the door. “Have a nice life,” he told me sarcastically.  Hopping into the Impala, he lay his head on the steering wheel for a minute while his heart broke into a million pieces. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the black jewelers box and threw it on the passenger’s seat. “Guess I won’t be needing this.” Then he peeled out of the driveway.

I held out hope he would come and say goodbye when I left but he never did. I cried on the entire flight to New York.

Part 2