I digress, Cas knows how hard customers can be for coffee, and Cas will always do his best to ease that pain for fellow coffee distributors.

"I like your pin," Cas shyly compliments. It's a mini dragon attached to her apron. Cas really wants a dragon.

She looks up, "Thanks. Your total will be five fifty-seven. Are you a point member?"

"No, just passing through," Cas answers. The girl nods and goes along with writing Cas' name on a cup. Cass. Oh, the misspelling of customers' names.

Topher and Ara are back with Salem by the time Cas comes out. There's whipped cream on his lip, and he licks it off as he eyes the copious amounts of shopping bags.

"Why so many?" Cas asks. Ara steals Cas' drink and takes a sip. This has been a common occurrence since Cas has seemed to be entitled to her cookies. Vise Versa, she's entitled to his coffee. It started when Ara made a batch of pumpkin spice cookies and Cas snatched a few before anyone could say anything. The following day at lunch, Ara grabbed Cas' mug and took a sip when Topher was distracting him.

Topher looks down at his hands that have at least six bags each. Topher frowns, "What do you mean? It's Christmas shopping! I'm not even done! Wait until Black Friday."

"I still don't understand the concept of the name," Arabelle confesses. "I understand that everyone shops and things go on sale, but why is it called Black Friday?"

"Because it takes place on a Friday?" Cas offers.

Ara raises her hands dismissively, "I know that. But why 'black'?"

"I'm sure there's a historical reason toward the name, but I honestly don't care, so I haven't tried to figure it out." Salem is distracted when he says this, he's looking at a music store just a few outlets away. "Let's go there."

"There?" Cas asks, "Why?" He's never had the idea of going to a record store, mainly because this is the twenty-first century and Spotify hasn't disappeared. What if, because he's never been, he's been missing out on a secret society or key to the meaning of life? Is that what CDs are? Is that why Aaron was listening to CDs instead of Bluetooth? Maybe it's a modern world thing, where normal people use quick efficiency and rich powerful people use old things from the nineties.

Or maybe Salem just needs a new MP3 charger, which he does. Salem's simple when it comes to his needs.

Salem looks at Cas, "You don't have to go in if you don't want to. I'm not forcing you." And then Salem leaves toward the store.

"We should leave him and get food," Topher says, yawning.

Cas narrows his eyes at Topher, "What is it with you people wanting to ditch everyone?"

Topher shrugs, "I want food."

"Food. Yes, I would like food, too, please," Ara pipes up.

Cas looks at his watch, "It's one-thirty. What time do we need to be back at school?"

"Eight-thirty, I think," Topher announces.

"What does the time have to do with me getting to eat? I need energy, and energy comes from food."

By now, the three are walking toward the music store Salem entered, not wanting to be left behind.

Cas hits a patch of ice, and his feet fly in front of him. He lands with a poof of snow and scorching coffee spills and burns his hand.

Well, talk about embarrassing. He did this right in front of all of these strangers and his newly found friends. Will they think he isn't cool anymore? Wait, when has Cas ever been cool? Why is he worried about something he never had?

Topher bursts out laughing, but Ara, blessed-angel Ara, looks concerned.

"Are you alright?" she asks.

Cas glares into his lap. No, he's not alright. Snow is making his pants wet, his hand is burned, his coffee is spilled, his clothes are muddy, his tailbone hurts, and all this happened in front of people. Cas doesn't know if he wants to scream or hideaway in a corner and cry.

The fact that an eighteen-year-old boy is having this sort of predicament because he fell like a little kid is concerning. Cas, clearly, is emotionally unstable and needs to think clearly and straight.

How can someone think straight and clearly when their entire mind is in a chronic, internal feud?

Cas knows he needs to use his Ability, but on who and for what? There is no actual reason to enter someone's brain and change a few things. Nope, not gonna do it. Worst-case scenario, Cas acts like a hysterical pregnant woman.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cas mutters, standing up and wiping the snow off his outfit. "Why don't you guys go get lunch, and I'll wait with Salem?"

"You're not hungry?" Toph asks.

"We'll meet you at the food court."

And with that, Topher and Arabelle are skipping off to lunch, forgetting that the entire ordeal happened, because what Cas doesn't understand is that no one cares that he fell because he still got up afterward. It would not be smart to stay sitting in the mud.

Salem is in the back corner when Cas walks in. He's looking at different cords with a great focus.

"May I help you, Sir?" says one of the workers.

"I'm good, just browsing." Browsing at everything and nothing because he doesn't know where his eyes should fall first. The albums lined neatly to the right, the CDs in the front, or the electronic things like record players and iPods. Cas can't decide, so he just kinda stands awkwardly in the middle, biting his lip.

He decides just to stand by Salem; it sounds like the safest choice.

"You're here," notes Salem.

"I am," answers Cas. "What are we doing here?"

Salem looks up at Cas from his crouching position and grabs the cord he was reading. "I'm shopping. We've been doing this for hours; I thought you'd notice."

Cas doesn't have a response, so he just stares with his hands in his pocket.

"Come on," Salem says.

Nine

"In my defense, he totally deserved it," Topher says with a mouthful of food.

"He was five, he didn't know better," Cas reasons.

"Not necessarily," Ara says, swallowing a french fry. "When I was five, I knew not to steal my older brother's stuff. Though, if I did, I highly doubt he would've shaved my head bald."