"Beep, beep, beep…" Elena Gilbert, for possibly the first time in her entire high school career, smiled and sat straight up in bed at the sound of her alarm clock. It was 7:00 AM on a Monday morning, and any other day she would have rolled over and pressed snooze, hoping that ten extra minutes of sleep would magically give her the energy she needed to go to school. But today was different. Today was the last day of Elena's senior year, her last day as a high schooler. Ever. And she could not be happier about it. Starting tomorrow, she would be free of classes, stress, and homework. She could finally start her job at the trendy clothing store, Rag Apparel, which was just about the best summer job a Mystic Falls teenager could hope for. And she would have as much time as possible to soak up the sun with her best friends, Bonnie and Caroline, before it was time to pack up for Stanford in the fall.
Elena pushed out of bed and flipped her alarm clock onto the radio setting, blasting a fun pop song as she threw on a pair of denim cutoffs and a plain white tee shirt. She knew her mother would prefer if she wore something nicer ("Its the last day of school! End on a high note!") but Elena had no time to worry about putting on a perfectly ironed pencil skirt and pumps or, even worse, the preppy stripped dress her mother had bought her months ago that was still hanging in the back of her closet.
"Good morning!" She cooed as she hopped down the stairs after running a brush through her long, straight brown hair and wiping the sleep away from her large brown eyes. The Gilbert's large stainless steel kitchen was full of delicious breakfast scents like frying bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt toast, just how Elena liked it. She grabbed a slice that the housekeeper, Maureen, offered her, and slipped into a chair next to her mother at the kitchen table.
Dianna Gilbert looked up at Elena and was about to make a comment about her outfit before stopping and simply saying "Good morning." Elena could see the thought process run through her mother's mind, and was grateful that finally, on the last day of senior year, her mother was going to let her be herself.
"Your father's already at work," Dianna tucked a strand of thick brown hair behind her ear and flipped to a new page in the paper, ignoring the large platter of breakfast food Maureen sat on the table. Elena's father was the president of a growing oil company, and her mother often worked alongside him as his assistant. It was normal for both parents to be absent from the breakfast table most days. Even though Elena was aware that her parent's company was what allowed her to live in their beautiful Tudor house, and was the reason she could afford to go to Stanford, she resented the fact that it gave their entire family a snobby, materialistic reputation. And sometimes it wasn't just a reputation - it was a reality. Ever since the company started gaining business, Elena's father had turned into a workaholic and her mother had become distant. They both tried to pull Elena into their new lifestyle, introducing her to preppy rich boys and trying to get her to wear tennis dresses and bond with the stuck-up, shopping-obsessed daughters of their coworkers. But she had always managed to resist these attempts, something she knew they both resented.
A car honked outside and Elena grinned, getting up and running to the front window. Her best friend Bonnie's old Honda looked very out of place driving up the Gilbert's long, cherry tree-lined driveway. Mrs. Gilbert looked out the window and rolled her eyes, barely trying to hide her obvious distaste for Bonnie, the quirky, henna-obsessed vegetarian whose parents were both artists, who had been Elena's best friend for years. "Have a nice day," She murmured as her daughter kissed her on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and ran out the door.
"Hey!" Bonnie yelled over the music blasting from her stereo. It sounded like a mix between dubstep and classic rock. This was a combination Elena normally would have frowned upon, but lately she had become accustomed to Bonnie's new obsession with strange music. She had also become accustomed to late night calls from her friend, with Bonnie insisting that she had to "educate Elena in music" and forcing her to listen to at least two choruses's before she hung up the phone.
The car sped out of the driveway and down the familiar route to the high school, with Elena and Bonnie yelling and laughing excitedly about old memories and summer plans. Bonnie was going away to UCLA in the fall, and Elena wanted to spend as much time with her and Caroline, who was headed to Berkeley, as she could before their lives took different paths. For the last mile of the ride, the girls rolled down all the windows and blasted a song that they used to listen to all the time during freshman year. Elena grinned as she playfully threw her hands in the air in the passenger's seat. She couldn't be happier - the present was perfect and the future was bright, full of friends, fun, and new opportunities.
The rest of the day passed by quickly, with the seniors running around the high school halls wildly taking and laughing, as the teachers had long since given up trying to control them. The moment the bell rang, Elena hopped into a van with Bonnie, Caroline, Caroline's boyfriend Tyler, Matt, a boy who Elena used to date but was now on good friendship terms with, and about a dozen other kids they were friends with. They drove an hour away to the beach and spent the afternoon splashing in the waves before drying off and heading into the city to party at some of the popular clubs. It was almost three AM by the time Caroline finally dropped Elena off at her house. She knew it would have been easier just to sleep over at Caroline's house, but she knew her parents would freak out if they woke up and she wasn't there.
Elena hugged Caroline goodbye and watched as her car drove down the street before sluggishly making her way to the front door. She was still a bit drunk on the iced margaritas she had downed at the club, so when she saw something move in the driveway next door in the dark of the night she almost jumped out of her skin.
The imposing Salvatore mansion was right next door to Elena's house. The Salvatore parents were both in the oil business just like Elena's parents, and she had an inkling that all the fall coffees and cocktail parties her mother hosted when they first moved in four years ago had something to with getting in close to the Salvatore's. She knew they were big names in the industry and didn't doubt that they had helped her parents move up on the oil ladder. She had only seen Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore a couple times - they were a handsome, prestigious-looking couple. She saw their youngest son Stefan a lot more. He was in her grade, a quiet boy who constantly pulled good grades. There was no doubt he was going to take over his father's business one day, but Elena didn't resent him for that. Even though he wore expensive clothes to school and drove a sleek foreign sports car, there was something about his soft, handsome face and golden curls that made him seem like a nice, gentle-minded person. If she wasn't trying to stay as far away from her parent's snobby lifestyle as possible, Elena might have even tried to hook up with Stefan.
Their large brick mansion was usually pretty quiet, which was why Elena was surprised when she saw a figure in the driveway, leaning up against a shiny black Lexus and looking up at the sky. Elena paused at her doorway, peering through the thin row of hedges that separated her property from the Salvatore's and trying to figure out who it was. Not Mr. Salvatore, because he was more heavy set. Was it Stefan? She scooted a little closer to the corner of her doorstep, trying to spot his golden curls. But this figure had dark black hair. Elena squinted, and suddenly she lost her balanced and drunkenly toppled off the edge of the stone doorstep.
"Oof." She landed in the shrubbery with a grunt. Luckily it wasn't a long fall and she was cushioned by a thick, soft flower bush, but it still got the attention of the figure in the Salvatore's driveway. As Elena got up and smoothed the dirt off her clothes, she found Damon Salvatore's piercing blue eyes boring a hole into her skull.
Damon was the older Salvatore brother, and Elena often forgot he even existed because he was always away at Harvard Medical School in Boston. The only time she ever really saw him was in the society pages, which gushed about how he was building a career for himself in medicine with the support of his father, lavished over his perfect grades and accomplishments, and of course gossiped about how good looking he was. They weren't exaggerating. Damon was an older, darker version of Stefan, with thick black hair, stunning blue eyes, and sculpted features that were fit for a male model. Elena couldn't help but do a double take as she made eye contact with him for a moment while regaining her balance on the porch step. She quickly reminded herself that it was pointless to become infatuated with Damon. He was a tycoon just like his father, and there was nothing in his face that made her think he was any different from the pretentious snobs his family often associated with.
There was something odd about the way he was staring at her, though. As she slipped her key into the lock on the front door, she couldn't help but notice that he was looking her up and down, almost checking her out, with an intent stare. Elena frowned to herself. Why would Damon Salvatore, who could get any beautiful women he wanted, be wasting his time checking out an eighteen year old? Even if he was home for the summer, there were plenty of gorgeous older Mystic Falls' girls who would throw themselves at him. As Elena stepped through the doorway with one final glance back at Damon, she decided he was just watching her to see if she'd fall again. He'd probably have a good laugh about it later on while telling the story to his rich polo-wearing friends who were also home for the summer. High-society kids, Elena rolled her eyes at the thought as she pulled an oversize tee-shirt over her head, tucked herself into bed, and promptly fell asleep.
"Elena…" Elena's mother's voice broke through her peaceful, dreamless sleep, and she woke up to find sunlight streaming into her bedroom through the large picture window opposite her bed. A quick glance at the clock told her it was 1:23 PM. Her head was pounding with a hangover, but her mother couldn't know that, so Elena quickly tried to rearrange her expression into one that just looked tired, not still drunk from the night before, which she was pretty sure was the case.
"Why are you still in bed?" Mrs. Gilbert looked perfectly poised, standing at the foot of her daughter's queen size bed in a prim white blouse and perfectly ironed khaki pants. Elena groaned. It was the first day of summer - was her mother seriously getting on her case for sleeping in on today of all days? She plopped her head back down onto her pillow, deciding then and there that she was going to ignore her mom until she went away.
Mrs. Gilbert then said possibly the only words that could get her daughter to pay attention to her again. "We have a big surprise for you." Elena's eyebrows shot up. "Big surprises" in the Gilbert family usually meant something very bad or very good. A "good" example was last year, when it meant that Elena and Caroline, the bubbly blonde who Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert approved of slightly more than Bonnie (probably because her parents were both successful dentists and she liked wearing high heels and getting a new manicure every week) had gotten to go on a cruise to Maui all by themselves over the summer. A "bad" example was two years ago, when Elena had had to spend her winter break tutoring Eric, the pervy twelve year old son of one of her father's coworkers, who somehow got a hold of her cell phone number and sent her slimy texts asking her to wear a low cut dress or "really short shorts" to their tutoring sessions. The only joy Elena had gotten out of that surprise was the look on Eric's face when she trudged up his driveway in a turtleneck and baggy jeans each morning.
"Get dressed and come downstairs," Mrs. Gilbert instructed Elena, pulling her out of her reverie. She couldn't help but feel at least a little excited for the surprise as she splashed cold water on her face and downed a few aspirin for her hangover. Maybe it was some exciting summer vacation, or better yet, a new car for her to bring to Stanford. Elena was still picturing herself sliding into her dorm room driveway in her dream shiny black hybrid when she met her parents in the kitchen five minutes later.
Elena's father, Jonathan Gilbert, a balding but handsome man in his early fifties, was sitting at the table with her mother, pouring over an accounting booklet that was spread out in front of them. When Mr. Gilbert saw his daughter enter the kitchen, he immediately got up and gave her a huge hug.
"There's my young woman!" He was grinning from ear to ear, and Elena smiled back, surprised at his behavior. Usually Mr. Gilbert regarded her with a curse nod or a pat on the back when he was pleased with her. She could tell he hated the decisions she made, from her casual clothes to her extracurricular activities, which included the swim team and prom committee instead of the preppy tennis club and nerdy honors society, like he had pushed her to join. However, today it was like he was a different person, all smiles as he gestured for Elena to sit down at the table, resuming his seat across from her.
Maureen quickly bustled into the kitchen, handing out tea and croissants to the family. Elena's fingers pulled apart a croissant anxiously, wishing her parents would hurry up and finished their breakfast so they could tell her what the surprise was.
Finally, her father put down his mug and pushed a photo across the table to Elena, beaming. It was a picture of the Gilbert's and the entire Salvatore family, including Stefan and Damon. They were standing in front the grand staircase in the Gilbert's home, and everyone was smiling broadly. Mr. Gilbert passed Elena a sheet of paper. On closer look she realized it was a scan of a newspaper article - the headline read "Damon Salvatore Makes Brilliant Discovering Involving Stem Cell Research." It was accompanied by a glossy picture of Damon leaning over a lab table, presumably at Harvard. Elena scanned the article, then frowned up at her father.
"Why are you showing me this?" She asked, confused as to what the Salvatore's had to do with whatever her parents were planning for her.
"Damon Salvatore," Mr. Gilbert responded, grinning broadly. "Handsome, isn't he? He's making groundbreaking discoveries at Harvard Medical School, and he's recently decided he also wants a hand in his father's company. Derek Salvatore decided to give him the job of finding new connections and new companies to invest in. A connection with the Salvatore Oil Co. could really help us reach the next level, Elena."
"Okay…" Elena nodded along quizzically, still not quite sure what all this had to do with her surprise.
"And the best way to get that connection," Mr. Gilbert continued, stirring his tea with growing excitement. "Is to have a tie in between the families."
Elena's aspirin was wearing off and she was starting to feel sluggish again. She couldn't quite follow exactly what her father was saying, but she nodded along anyways. She supposed that this entire thing was just going to turn into another boring discussion about oil and work. She hoped her surprise wasn't some dull internship her father had arranged her to take this summer instead of her job at Rag Apparel.
"… a personal connection is our best bet, and Derek say's that it's exactly what he needs…" Mr. Gilbert was still talking. Elena picked at her croissant again, feeling a bit lightheaded. She wished he would get to the point already. She ran a hand through her hair and wondered if maybe Bonnie would want to hang out at the beach later…
"…to marry Damon Salvatore." Mr. Gilbert splayed his hands out on the table in front of him and looked at Elena expectantly. She started at him blankly. The last few words had caught her attention, but she still had no idea what he was talking about.
"Who?" She asked.
Mr. Gilbert blinked at her. "You."
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Elena shot up out of her chair in a swift, sudden motion that she hadn't known her hangover-ridden body was capable of. "What? What?"
"Elena, this will give us a leg up in the business that we could never have dreamed of before. Damon is a handsome, wealthy, incredibly intelligent young man with a very bright future ahead of him. He's the best man you'll ever find to marry." Mr. Gilbert pressed his palms together calmly.
Elena wasn't sure if he'd meant the words to be offensive or not, but they cut her like a knife in her frantic state. Angry, hurt, and most of all confused, she turned desperately to her mother, waiting for her to reveal that this was all some big practical joke. Mrs. Gilbert sat quietly at the table next to her husband. She looked a bit distressed, but she said nothing, refusing to make eye contact with her daughter as she nervously shifted the papers in front of her.
"You're not really forcing me to do this, are you?" Elena's voice sounded frail and tiny in the large kitchen. How could her father take away her right to marry who she wanted? How could he force her to become the wife of a man she'd never met? It was all happening so fast, and Elena was having trouble processing it. Her parents had always been a bit ridiculous when it came to their business ventures, but this was a whole new level. "Dad?"
Mr. Gilbert finally looked up. "Of course you don't have to do it." A wave of relief washed over Elena, and she relaxed. So it was all a big joke after all. Or maybe just a suggestion, but nothing that was binding and mandatory. She was about to rejoin her parents at the table and ask them what this was all really about when her father's soft, patient voice cut through the silence again.
"But keep in mind when you're making your choice that I want you to do it. And I am also the one who will be signing the fifty thousand dollar check for Stanford in the fall. I'm a busy man Elena, and I'll have to make extra sure that that check doesn't slip between the cracks." Elena froze. His voice was too soft, too nonchalant sounding to be making these kinds of threats. She couldn't believe that he was going there. A gust of air left her mouth in surprise, and she saw her mother twitch from her seat at the table. Elena waited, but Mrs. Gilbert said nothing.
"I'd like your answer soon Elena." Mr. Gilbert spoke again, casually stirring his tea with a toothpick. "Oh, and if you do decide to say no, and if your college check does slip between the cracks, just know that there will be no place for you here anymore." He bored his pale eyes into Elena, making sure she understood the message loud and clear. Then he got up and smoothly slipped the newspaper clippings and photographs into his coat. "I'll be at the office." He said before exiting the room.
"M-mom?" Elena's eyes were flooded with tears. But Mrs. Gilbert hid her face from her daughter with one hand and refused to speak to her. Once she realized that this really was happening, and that her mother really wasn't going to do anything to stop it, Elena ran up to her bedroom and slammed the door before collapsing on her bed in tears.
She stayed in her bedroom for the next week. Calls, Facebook messages, and texts from Bonnie, Caroline, and the rest of her friends piled up, but she couldn't bring herself to answer them. She didn't know how to explain to them that unless she agreed to marry a man she had never met before, she would be kicked out of her house and would never get to go to Stanford.
While lying in bed, Elena weighed many different options. She could find the money to pay for college herself, of course. That was her first plan. She knew her summer job would never earn her even close to enough, and she'd foolishly never saved up much money because she'd always stupidly assumed her parents would pay for everything she needed. That left her with scholarships. She scoured the internet, looking up every single possible scholarship she could apply for, then called the phone numbers that were listed. But it was too late. Each call she made resulted in a sympathetic "Sorry, all our spots have been filled." By the time her hands were sore from dialing and she had a possibly permanent phone imprint on the side of her face, the most Elena had managed to score was a five hundred dollar loan.
She also considered setting up a lawsuit against her parents. She was 18, so they couldn't force her to marry anyone, could they? But that plan quickly crumbled when she realized that technically they weren't forcing her. They were only threatening to take away her entire future, and she was pretty sure there was no law stating that parents had to pay for their child's college education.
Several times she decided to run away, packing up a bag with extra clothes, some packaged food, and her laptop. But running away was no use. Alone in the city, she'd find herself just as lost as she would be in three months when her father kicked her out for saying no.
So mostly Elena just cried. She refused to eat any of the food Maureen delivered to her bedroom. Sometimes, in fits of rage, she would go to her father's office door and bang on it, cursing him out and yelling, wondering why he had ever decided it was okay to do this to her. He would let it go on for a while, then send someone out, usually Maureen, to escort Elena back to her bedroom.
By the end of the week, Elena was disgusted with just about everyone in her life. Her father. Her mother. And Damon Salvatore. She hated him for agreeing to this. She couldn't imagine what kind of a sick, twisted man would want to marry a barely legal teenager. She wouldn't allow herself to think about what it would be like to actually live with him and be his wife. She wouldn't allow herself to think about how her future was a trap, with no pathway pointing to happiness.
But at the end of the day, Elena was a rational person. She knew she had to make a decision, one that offered the best possible future she could make for herself, giving the circumstances. That was why, exactly a week after her parents had dropped the news on her, she walked into her father's office without knocking one morning, swiftly making her way to stand in front of his desk.
Mr. Gilbert was on the phone, but immediately hung up without a word to the person on the other end when he saw his daughter.
"I'll do it." Elena didn't wait for a greeting. Her voice shook slightly, and she forced herself not to break down into tears. She felt like she was signing her own death sentence.
Mr. Gilbert jumped up from his desk, all smiles. "Elena! I'm so happy you've finally seen the light! You have no idea how beneficial this will be for everyone involved!" He went on and on, and Elena stood stone cold, refusing to move until her father stepped out from behind his desk and walked towards her with open arms. She scuttled away from him like he was a disease ridden rat and glared at him until he dropped his hands to his sides. Only then did she walk towards him again, moving until she was just inches away from his face. She made sure her voice didn't shake this time.
"Just know that I'll never forgive you for this."
The smile slipped off Mr. Gilbert's face as Elena turned and silently walked out of the office, down the hallway, and back into her bedroom. A moment later her door slammed, echoing through the entire house like the first clap of thunder before a storm.