You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes as Dean and Sam cackled and as Cas looked on with an approving smile.
“W-wait, did you have the skirts and blazers?” Dean choked out.
“We had ties, too,” you sighed, and that caused him to lean forward again and shake with laughter.
Cas nodded. “Good. It’s nice to hear that some children grew up with faith.” Whether he did on purpose or not, he gave a pointed look at the brothers, and Sam cleared his throat.
“So how was Catholic school? Did you have to go to church once a week?” he asked. Sam, after getting over the shock and apparent hilarity at the school you went to from first grade through high school, seemed genuinely interested to hear. You weren’t sure what possessed you to tell them this, but his curiosity made it less painful.
“Yeah, once a week up until high school. Then, it was only on special occasions.” With a smirk, you added, “Why do you think I cream your asses when it comes to Latin?”
“You took Latin classes?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raised and a smile forming on his face.
“It was awful, and the only thing I remember from that class is how to say the ‘Hail Mary’ and ‘Our Father’ in Latin. We used to have competitions on who could say it the fastest,” you admitted. “And that class was hard considering it was taught for middle school kids.”
Sam nodded, and then hesitated like he was almost embarrassed of his next question. “I’ve gotta ask, where did the short skirt stereotype come from?”
You pulled a face, rolled your eyes, and made a disgusted ugh sound. “Oh, please, do you know how many kids from the local public schools would ridicule me? The only reason anyone’s skirt was short was because those things were forty bucks a piece, and by senior year, who wants to buy new ones? And, sure, some girls rolled them up, but can you blame them? Those pleated skirts were not attractive.”
“Ooh, getting defensive, I see. Don’t get your thigh socks in a twist,” Dean teased, and you held up a hand with an open mouth.
“No, no, no, thigh socks were scandalous! The socks had to be below your knees, because God-forbid you cover more of your legs.” You couldn’t help but laugh after saying that. “Man, those rules were weird.”
“I don’t think my Father cares whether or not you wear your socks above or below your knees,” Cas commented, a confused expression on his face.
“See? He gets it. Catholic school was weird.”
There was a lull in the conversation before Sam asked, “So… how fast can you say the ‘Hail Mary’?”
A grin took over your face, and you took a deep breath, ready to test yourself to see how much you remembered starting with Ave Maria.