“Jeremy, it's time to go! Get your ass down here, I don't have all morning!” I say, tapping my foot impatiently against the hardwood floor. It's 7.30 in the morning, Monday morning to be exact. And not just any casual Monday. No, it's the first day after the summer holidays, and my first day as a senior. Not that I'm excited about it. Not like all the other girls in my year, anyway. Why should I? I am returning to all of their judging gazes, their mean comments.
Of course I'm not looking forward to going back. Not even if it's my last year in this God forsaken hole. Because I still have over 200 days left of my miserable life in Mystic Falls. I can start celebrating, when I'm actually getting closer to the day I graduate, and can get the hell out of here.
“Relax! I'm here, I'm here! Let's go,” Jeremy says, as he grabs his bag and walks out the door, not even looking at me. I sigh, as the smell of pot reaches my nose. Of course he's high. He's always high. Why should today be any different?
Grabbing my keys from the table, I walk out the door, smacking it behind me. I know my step-dad will be mad about the noise, but I don't care. Anything to annoy him. He's making my life a living hell. No reason I can't reciprocate.
As I get in the car, Jeremy is just looking out the window, waiting for me to start driving. I roll my eyes, turning on the car. He would be able to drive him self, if he hadn't been caught driving while drunk and high. Then he would still have his license, and I wouldn't have been forced to live with the strong smell of his pot, all the way to our school.
But unfortunately, that's not the way things are. So I try to breathe through my mouth, as I open one window, pull out the drive way, and head towards our school.
As soon as I pull in the parking lot, Jeremy is out of the car, and almost running to the main entrance. I sigh softly, as I turn off the car, and grabs my bag from the backseat. Here we go. Another day, another fake smile on my lips, another hell to survive. Because that's what I do. I survive.
Checking that the small black box is in it's rightful location, I get out of the car, slamming the door, and slowly makes my way to my own personal hell. Well, my second personal hell.
All eyes are staring at me, as I make my way through the hallway. To be honest, I don't really care. These people mean absolutely nothing to me, so why should I care what they think about me? I put on a fake smile, as I keep my eyes straight ahead, not sparing a single glance on any of the people around me. They're only looking for an reaction, so that is the one thing I'm not going to give to them.
When I finally reach my locker, I'm annoyed as hell. There's a boy standing in front of it, looking at a paper, while looking totally and utterly lost.
“Hey, new boy,” I say, not caring if I'm rude.
He's gorgeous. No doubt about that. But I'm also pretty sure that he's going to be very popular within the next few weeks, which means he will be another person to make fun of me behind my back. So, why should I care whether I'm rude or not?
He looks up, and my eyes are met by the gaze of the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. As soon as his eyes meets mine, his incredibly blue gaze turns warm and friendly. A friendly smile spreads across his full lips, as he stands up straight, not leaning against the lockers anymore.
“Oh, great, maybe you can help me out. I'm looking for locker 213? I was told it was here, but I can't really seem to find it,” he says, scratching his neck, as he looks from the papers to me again.
I should come up with some sort of rude comment, and tell him to scratch off. I should tell him that he needs to fuck off, before I do something drastic. Hell, I should tell him that the locker is in the other end of the school, only to laugh when he realise it is located right here.
But for some odd reason, I don't. A legit smile comes to my lips, as I tell him the exact location of his locker. Right next to mine. And as his eyes light up, and he turns to the locker, I can't help but wonder why I didn't tell him to move the fuck away from my locker, without any kind of explanation. That would be my normal reaction. But it wasn't with this guy.
“Thank you, so much. I guess I'm kind of lost here. I'm Damon,” he says, extending his hand for me to shake. I narrow my eyes slightly, as I look at his hand. The first thing that pops into my vision, is the big ring resting on his finger. Since when do guys wear rings? Again, I can't help but remind my self, that I really shouldn't touch his hand, that I should walk straight past him, open my locker and never speak to the man again. But once again, I can't seem to follow my own advice.
Mumbling my name, I shake his hand, without looking in his eyes. Instead I keep my eyes fixed on our hands. Why the hell does it feel so weird touching him? I mean, come on, this guy could easily be a total douche. Not that he's given me any indication that he is.
“Nice to meet you, Elena. Maybe you could also help me get to class... This school is pretty big, and I'm not really sure how to navigate around here,” he says, looking even more lost. I roll my eyes and look at his schedule. History in B13... Oh, hell no. No way I'm in the same class as this guy. It just can't be.
But there's nothing to do about it. The schedule doesn't change before my very eyes, and somehow, I can't really seem to be rude to this guy. What the hell is wrong with me today?
“Fine. Wait a minute, though, I have to put this in my own locker,” I say, as I open the locker next to his, depositing my bag. Quickly grabbing my history books, I close my locker again, and try not to notice the new guy's questioning look. I really don't want to answer anymore of his questions, which is why I start walking down the hall, not really caring if he follows or not.
“Thanks. You have history too?” he asks, motioning to the books in my arms. I nod, as I try to avoid the stares from the girls in the hall. Surely they must be wondering what the new hot guy is doing with the freak. And I could ask my self the exact same question. Hell, I'd even be able to answer that question.
He doesn't know. He's new to the school, which means he doesn't know anything about my behavior, or the rumors circling about me. He thinks I'm just a normal student, willing to show him the way to class. But that'll be over, as soon as we get to lunch. Because at lunch, he will surely be talking to the football team, or something like that. And then he'll know everything about me being totally fucked up. Oh well, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
As we reach the class, I actually expect him to choose a table far away from my usual spot in the back of the class. But no. He flops down on the chair beside my table, flashing me his perfect white teeth, as he smiles at me.
“So, tell me, Elena. Who's the teacher of this class? And do I have anything to look forward to?” he asks, looking at me, as though he really is trying to get to know me. I raise an eyebrow at him, calling him out on the lame question. I mean, really? Something to look forward to? We were having history for Christ's sake.
“His name is Alaric Saltzman. He's fine, I guess,” I say, opening my binder, ready to doodle all over the untouched paper. I would love to spend the whole class writing, but something tells me that the new guy wouldn't be able to keep his eyes to him self. And no way I'm letting him read whatever I would decide to write.
“Nothing to look forward to, then?” he asks, holding his gaze on me. I look at him again, raising the eyebrow further up. He's seriously asking about this?
“It's history. What do you expect? If you're interested in the civil war and other useless periods in the world history, I guess this will be like Disneyland. If not, then you have a boring class in front of you,” I say, retuning my look to the paper. I am already doodling, without knowing. It seems as a reflex to me. I just do it.
“Well, then it's good that I happen to like history. What about you? You don't really seem to keen on the subject?” he says, raising an eyebrow. I can't help but notice how sexy it looks, but I quickly push the thought away. Sure, I could flirt with him, fuck him tonight, or maybe even in the lunch break, but I wasn't really in the mood for a quickie. Plus, I was kind of sore after a very rough night with my step-dad. No, I am not going to think about him anymore! Not when I'm away from him. The only positive thing about school. It is my time away from the monster. And I am trying to enjoy it as much as possible.
“It's boring. Why would I like it? I mean, Alaric's cool and everything. But I don't see the point in learning about stuff that happened that long time ago. Why dwell on the past?” I say, looking at him again. Why did I just say that? It is way too close to what was going on in my life, and I don't want him to suspect anything. I have worked way too hard to keep my life a secret, for him to ruin it all. Get your shit together, Gilbert!
“Maybe because the past is what defines the future. I mean, if we didn't have the civil war, for instance, we would probably still be holding slaves, treating some people totally unfair, just because of their skin color. You really think that's fair?” he says, leaning back in his chair, while finally looking away from me. His gaze was becoming rather uncomfortable.
“Of course that wouldn't be fair. But if you haven't noticed, we don't have slaves. We have maids, but they're paid and stuff like that. So why would I care to know why we don't have them anymore? It doesn't really matter to me,” I say, shrugging slightly, as I hear people starting to fill the class. Great, the bitches is in the house. Of course Caroline and Rebekah has to be in my class this year. I am forced to listen to those two bitches talking about me, for 45 minutes. Great, just great.
“Well, I really don't agree with you. And maybe you'll end up agreeing with me,” he says, looking at me once again. Hasn't he noticed Caroline and Rebekah? They are the beauties of the school, the girls every boy wants to be with, and every girl wants to be like. So why isn't he hurrying to speak to them, instead of staying in the back, with the school freak? I mean, it's not like I look attractive. Sure, I'm wearing shorts, but I'm also wearing a big hoodie, to hide every single one of my scars and bruises. So, why isn't this new guy going after the hot, sexy girls, instead of talking to the closed-off, weird girl?
“And what makes you think I'll agree with you?” I ask, looking into his eyes. I immediately regret the decision. My gaze is as though locked with him, and I have no possible way of tearing my eyes from his. Because they're beautiful. Sure, I noticed earlier that they were incredibly blue, but that isn't all. They're deep, they're warm and friendly. Like he actually enjoys talking to me, like he actually wants to get to know me.
But I know that's all a lie. Of course he doesn't want to get to know me. He won't, when he finds out just how much of a freak I am. Then he'll be with the rest of the school, shooting me glares, showing me just how weird and freaky I am. And a part of me doesn't want him to become like that. A part of me wants to get to know him, to let him in. I want to tell him everything, I want to let him get close to me.
But I know I can't. Because if I ever let someone know, my step-dad will hurt Jeremy. And if I ever let someone into my heart, I'm going to get crushed. Because I can't trust anyone than myself. I've learned that the hard way. So why should I stop following that rule, because of a new guy with blue eyes? Not going to happen.
“Because I am going to make you agree with me. I am going to make it my mission this year, to make you agree with me. I'll make you see,” he says, a satisfied smile in place on his lips. My jaw almost drops. He thinks he's going to make me agree with him? He actually wants to spend time with me, making me agree with his point of views? Well, that is going to change, once we reaches lunch break. Then he'll keep away from me, during the rest of the year, and I can go back to revel in my own pain. So, why not agree to his small challenge?
“Fine. Try all you want, but you won't succeed. I can tell you that already,” I say, as Alaric walks through the door. Who does this guy think he is? Oh well, he'll give up soon enough. I just have to hold on until lunch break. Then he'll join everyone else.
“Good morning, class, and welcome back. I hope you all enjoyed your holidays, because now that we're back again, we're going to work hard. You have a lot of exams to pass. Now, first of all I want you to get together, two and two, with the person you sit next to. Then you can start writing down every single word that pops into your head when I say second world war. Get started,” Alaric says, as he puts his bag down on the chair in front of his desk. I look around the class, sighing, when I notice my only choice is Damon. I'm actually forced to work together with this guy. Can this day become any worse?
“Great. This will give me the opportunity to start my mission! Come on, start writing down. Second world war, what do you know?” he asks, opening his notebook and retrieving a pen from the pocket in his black leather jacket. I raise an eyebrow at him, again. Okay, so he thinks I'm going to do all the work? Not going to happen.
“I will, if you get started as well. No way I'm doing all the hard work here,” I say, as I turn to a new page. I quickly fill in the subject and date at the top, before starting to write down. So, what do I know about second world war? Something about this Hitler guy, and some jews...
I look at the new guys paper. Of course he's already got almost a full page of words, connected to the second world war. Great, not only is he annoying as hell, he's also smart. This is going to be a long year.
“Hitler and jews? That's what you've got?” he asks, as he looks at my paper with a smile on his lips. If eyes could kill, this guy would be dead by now. Twice.
“Yeah, sorry if I'm not into this whole history thing. As I told you, I'm not really interested in what happened in the past,” I say, while leaning back in my seat. I feel jealous, I feel stupid. Of course I want to be able to write just as many words down on the paper, as Damon has, but no way I'm ever going to be that smart. I'm just too fucked up to know that kind of stuff.
“Well, second world war is a great example of an historical event that changed the present. Come on, tell me what you know. I'll help you. No more douche comments, promise. Bring it,” he says, moving closer to my able. I frown at him. He wants to help me? Oh sure, he wants to make me see his view on stuff. I'm his mission. Oh well, why not play along?
“Fine. Well, as far as I know, this Hitler guy was a dictator, and he... Killed a lot of Jews, I think,” I say, fighting hard not to blush. I feel way too stupid to actually be alive. Why can't I just be alone as usual? But no, I have to be with this new smart guy.
“Yeah, that's a great place to start. Hitler was a dictator and he killed a lot of Jews. Do you have any idea why he killed them?” he asks, while putting his notebook on my table. Wait, is he moving closer to my table? Do he really have to get this close?
“No. Absolutely no idea. He was jealous of their noses or something like that?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. When you have no idea what's going on, make fun or run. That's my ways out. And right now, the little blade in my bag is calling my name way too loud. But I can't. I have to try and be okay. Just be normal, just for one single class.
But Damon doesn't think I'm funny. His left eyebrow shoots to his hairline, as he looks at me in disbelief. I try to smile at him, but I'm having a hard time not walking out the class. I just want to get away. Actually, I just want to go out, find my knife in my bag, go to the bathroom and cut. I want to feel that pain. But I can't. I'm stuck here in class, with Damon.
“You've got a point with the jealousy though. Hitler was jealous of the Jews, because he was thrown out of a painting academy. They said he didn't have any kind of talent. Jews are known for being very hardworking and creative, which might be the reason they actually got into the academy. Also, Hitler was lucky to come forth in the period he did. Germany had just lost first world war, and was extremely poor....”
And he just keeps on going. I find my self zoning completely out of the knowledge he is pouring out, and instead I focus on his amazingly blue eyes. I've never really been one for blue eyes. Or green eyes. Both of them have always reminded me of my step-dad. And he isn't one I want to remember. But Damon's eyes are different. I find my self swimming away in them. I would love nothing more than to see those eyes darkened with desire, as his naked body hovers above mi...
I can't allow my self to think of him in that way. I just can't! He's the new guy, and soon enough he'll be with all the other popular people, making fun of me down the hallways. I can't let myself get attached to him, just because he's giving me some sort of attention. Maybe it's just sexual tension. Maybe I just need to get in his pants, and then this will finally be over. Or maybe I don't.
And why am I even thinking about that? When we reach lunch, he'll be gone! Pull yourself together, Gilbert!
In less than 240 days, I'll be in my car, all my stuff in the trunk, driving far away from this shit hole. Keep that in mind. And as soon as Jeremy's old enough, he'll be with me. We'll be gone, ready to start a brand new life. A life that doesn't involve the evil step-dad.
“Elena? Elena, are you even listening to me?”
I'm pulled out of my memory, as Damon waves his hand in front of my eyes. I smile innocently at him, and returns to my notepad, writing down the stuff I remember him talking about.
“Sorry, I guess I kind of... Zoned out,” I say, trying to keep my self together. Don't think about the blade, don't think about it...
“It's okay. Here, let me write down some stuff for you. Then I'll explain them shortly. You'll get it, I promise. I won't let you down,” he says, as he reaches towards my notepad, touching my hand in the process.
Okay, I've never been one to believe in all of those sappy movies, but I swear, as soon as his porcelain skin touches mine, an electric shock shoots through my body, starting at the place we're touching each other. As I raise my head and look into his eyes, I can see he's just as confused as I am. What the hell is going on?
I quickly retract my hand from his and looks away from his eyes. No way I am putting my self in line for this. I did not ask for anything new this year. I am completely fine with going through another year filled with drama, shit and problems. As long as the year actually moves on, and I'm ready to go in July. No way I'm complicating this year, with a boy. Not even Damon.