A/N: So I got the idea for this and I just had to write it out. But I'm letting you guys know that if you're keen on this story, you should probably just follow it in order to get eventual updates, because I don't think I'll be updating it very much until I'm done with my other story ('Intuition, Twice Shy')! All the same, I hope this appeals to you :) xoxoxox

Chapter 1

Dear Miss Bennett,

It has come to our attention that you have been involved in some questionable supernatural activity this school year.

As such, your parent/guardian, Mr. Rudy Hopkins, has elected to enroll you in the Original Summer Camp program here at the Mikaelson School for Supernatural Delinquents.

We understand that this might be a trying time for you, but we hope that you will attend our camp with an open mind, and we trust that you will leave with a truly valuable experience.

Please find attached further details as well as a recommended packing list.

Thank you, and we hope to see you soon.

Opsequium est necessarium.

Compliance is key.

Sincerely,

Elijah Mikaelson

Head of Administration

It had taken place in the five-minute gap between second and third period on the second-to-last Friday of junior year.

"Elena, wait. Don't walk away from this."

Another day, another fight, another passionate declaration of codependence.

Oops. Love, not codependence.

"Leave me alone, Damon."

Yes, please, for the love of God, do us all a favour and leave her alone, I thought.

"No, Elena, I can't leave you alone. I won't do it. I need you in my life."

Did he, though? I had wondered. I would never have uttered a word to Elena, but I was pretty damn sure the two of them were way better off without each other.

"I can't do this right now, Damon. You're not stable. I can't be your only emotional anchor."

The sole difference between this and a soap opera was that you could actually switch off the stupid television and walk away from a soap opera.

I fidgeted, checking the time on my phone.

Three minutes.

Not that it mattered. Mr. Saltzman was a pretty chill dude. He let us call him Ric off school-hours. Well, he was Elena's sort-of uncle. That helped.

"Could they be any more dramatic?" Caroline stood next to me, whispering into my ear.

You're one to talk, I thought, recalling the colossal argument Caroline had had with Matt in the cafeteria just two days ago. It had been so petty; I found it hard to remember what the whole thing had even been about.

"I was planning on getting to class early so I could pitch my History Ball idea for next year to Ric – I mean, Mr. Saltzman," Caroline continued.

I tried to tone down the level of incredulity in the look I was sending Caroline. What the hell was a History Ball? Leave it to Caroline to come up with the most trivial reasons to throw a party.

"Elena, can't you see? You make me a better person. I need you as my emotional anchor."

Ok, I thought irritably, this is getting really old really fast. What kind of illogical, circular reasoning was that, anyway?

Elena heaved a theatrical sigh, already drawing closer to Damon, giving in to him.

Damon kissed her once, twice, and then proceeded to singlehandedly attempt a full-blown make-out session.

Elena pulled away from him, though, glancing over to me.

Caroline had conveniently disappeared by then, ditching both Elena and me.

"Sorry, Bon, I know we're already late," said Elena.

Damon threw a callous glance in my direction. "Ignore her."

Strike one.

I pressed my lips together into a tight, unimpressed line.

"She's already judging us with her beady little witchy eyes. I can feel it."

Strike two.

My hands balled into fists.

"Run along, Bon Bon, we're trying to have some fun here. You're kind of cramping the mood."

Strike three.

I blinked hard.

He went up in flames.

"Bonnie, you've got to get your magic under control."

I sat in Ric's classroom after school had ended, sullenly contemplating what I'd unintentionally done.

On the one hand, Ric was right. I'd been failing time and time again to get a proper grasp of my magic ever since I'd stumbled upon my witchy inheritance. It wasn't just fire, either. If ever I spontaneously burst into tears in my room, the entire street would end up with a power outage. And when I was happy, things tended to levitate around me.

But on the other hand, hell yes, I'd set Damon on fire. He deserved every third-degree burn that I'd given him, which had automatically healed anyway.

Stupid vampire benefits.

"If it had been anyone other than me who'd found you guys, we'd have needed to get someone to compel them. You're lucky you were late and the corridors were empty. And that I spotted you first," he continued.

Regardless, it brought me great joy to consider how he must've been nursing his wounded ego at that very moment.

"I'm going to have to talk to your dad about this," said Ric, tearing me from my fantasies of inflicting further harm on Damon.

"What?" I looked up, aghast. "No, you can't. He's going to kill me."

"Bonnie..." Ric shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, but I really don't have a choice. You need to figure out how to control your magic."

"I can do it myself," I said. "I'll work harder on it, I promise."

"That's what you said the last time..."

I stared sadly down my hands, clasped tightly on my lap. "I wish Grams were still alive. She'd know what to do."

"I know," Ric said, reaching forward to pat my shoulder comfortingly. "But we've got to do the best with what we've got."

He didn't understand, but I didn't tell him that. He didn't understand how my father hated anything that had to do with the supernatural. He hadn't even liked me hanging around Grams. Dad just wasn't warm or caring like Grams had been. He wouldn't be so sympathetic.

But nothing I could have said would have mattered, anyway.

"Alright," I replied reluctantly.

"Bonnie!" Elena ran up to me the second I'd stepped out into the school courtyard. "Is everything ok?"

I gazed quietly upon the face of my best friend. As obtuse as Elena could be, she had a huge heart; and within it, she never could find the will to hold anything against anyone.

"Yeah," I said with a feeble smile. "He's going to tell my dad, though."

"Oh, Bon, I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled in worry for me.

"I'm really sorry, Elena, about... you know," I murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Don't worry about it, Bon," she replied with an easy smile. "Damon was being mean to you. And I know you didn't do it on purpose."

I mulled over the irony of her last statement as we strolled out to the parking lot together.

Even if I could have had a do over, I probably would have set Damon on fire anyway.

"What do you think your dad will do?" Elena asked me.

"I don't know," I said. "If I'm lucky, he'll send me to live with Lucy over the summer to practice my magic."

"And if you're not?"

I had no idea.

The last week of junior year passed by in a flurry and without incident.

I knew Ric had spoken to my dad, but my dad had yet to say a word to me. Honestly, it freaked me out even more because I felt like I had a forthcoming punishment hanging over my head like a rain cloud.

And sure enough, I did.

"Bonnie," he called me into his study on the first evening of summer.

The sun had only just begun to wane due to the lengthened daylight hours, and it had been growing steadily warmer over the past couple of weeks.

I lingered uneasily in the doorway, the setting sun from the window casting my shadow on the floor in a long, skinny strip.

Hoo, boy, here it comes, I thought.

But instead, he just held out a letter to me without looking up from his paperwork. "Don't hover," he said mildly. "And take this."

"What is it?" I asked, accepting it from him.

"Read it."

I did.

Then I let it slip from from my hands.

"I can't believe you're not going to be around all summer long," Caroline whined, sitting on my bed as I packed clothes into my duffel bag.

Shorts, shorts, shorts, t-shirt, t-shirt, t-shirt.

"I know," I sighed.

"I can't believe he's sending you to a camp for juvenile delinquents," Elena stressed.

"I know," I sighed again.

"And not just any camp for juvenile delinquents," said Caroline, "but the Mikaelson family one."

"That place gives me the creeps," Elena agreed.

"Thanks for the encouraging words," I snapped at both of them.

They exchanged guilty glances.

We'd all heard of the infamous Mikaelson School for Supernatural Delinquents. It was a massive, sprawling campus, a few hours out of Mystic Falls, with a separate piece of land isolated just for the summer camp program.

It functioned like a normal school, except, as its name suggested, it enrolled only the basest supernatural delinquents – basically supernaturals who had the propensity to misbehave in terrible ways, however that might be.

Every summer, however, it opened up its camp program to less juvenile applicants who might only require brief disciplinary courses.

I guess I was going to be one of them now.

I didn't really know anyone who had gone to school or summer camp at the Mikaelsons' and returned to tell stories of what it had been like.

The closest connection anyone ever had to it was Matt Donovan, Caroline's current fling. He'd been best buds with Tyler Lockwood, the kid who'd turned into a werewolf at the start of the school year. Tyler had had major anger management issues since then and his mum had had no choice but to send him away to the Mikaelson School.

But we hadn't heard hide nor hair from Tyler since he'd left. It was almost like he'd vanished entirely off the radar.

I wondered if Matt was still in touch with him. I made a mental note to ask him about it before the weekend ended.

"Maybe you should run away," Caroline said seriously.

"Yeah." I snorted. "With no degree, no money and nowhere to live. I wouldn't last a week." I jammed a couple of toothbrushes into my bag.

It wasn't so much the delinquency brand of the school that upset me. It was the fact that my dad had banished me to reform school without understanding that what I needed was proper magical guidance – not discipline.

I wasn't a problem child with a major behavioural problem that needed fixing. I was a witch who didn't know how to control her magic. I needed a teacher.

Once again, I found myself wishing Grams were still alive. So, so badly.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Bonnie," Elena said.

"Me too," Caroline chimed in.

"I'll miss you both too," I mumbled, feeling downtrodden.

And I would. They were all too crazy about boys, parties and themselves, but I'd grown up with them and we knew one another so well and we'd never spent a single summer apart in so many years.

It just wouldn't be the same.

"Hey, Bonnie, what's up?" Matt's voice sounded crinkly over the phone.

"Caroline's probably mentioned where I'm going over the summer," I started.

"Yeah," replied Matt. "It won't be so bad, Bon. You'll probably get to see Tyler. Say hi to him for me, won't you?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you actually spoken to Tyler since he left?"

"A couple of times, actually. He's doing good, Bon. He's learning to get it all under control. I know you're not entirely sold on the place, but... Tyler actually likes it there. I don't know, maybe it could help with your... with your witchy issues."

I was simultaneously skeptical and hopeful, somehow. What if it was only helpful to werewolves? They needed more control and discipline than witches, after all.

I imagined being forced to run around a large track fifty times, and shuddered. I could see how Tyler might benefit from something like that, but certainly not me?

Maybe I was jumping to conclusions? Maybe each supernatural species had a different program to follow?

"You ok, Bonnie?"

I jerked back into the present. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out for a minute. Thanks Matt. I'll be sure to say hi to Tyler for you."

My dad drove me out to the school early Monday morning.

We flew past more greenery than one might ever hope to see in Mystic Falls. There were trees in all different shades of green – emerald, basil, pear, juniper. And the sky above us was cloudless, a single, magnificent shade of blue, stretched out from here to infinity.

We'd rolled the windows down, and the warm summer breeze filtered in, sliding over my skin and throwing back my hair.

The trees thinned out into a large clearing, and an intimidatingly large stone castle came into view eventually – rows and rows of charcoal blocks stacked to the sky, erect upon an endless grassy lawn.

That was the school itself, I figured.

My dad circled the castle, giving it wide berth. He drove a little further out, where the greenery began to emerge again, and soon pulled into the parking lot of a classic summer camp layout.

Wood, wood, wood, I thought straightaway.

Wooden houses, wooden obstacle courses, wooden platforms, open wooden-floored courts, all leading off to a dense forest in the distance.

I hoped they wouldn't make us go camping. We were already sort of camping. Wasn't that bad enough?

I sighed miserably, reluctant to get out of the car.

"You'll have to head over to the general office to sign in. It should be next to the central court, over there." My dad pointed somewhere to my right.

I nodded without speaking.

"This is for your own good, Bonnie. I hope you realize that."

I nodded again, mechanically. "Bye, dad." I got out of the car, hauling my bag out with me.

I watched him pull out of the parking lot and drive off, until he was a mere speck in the distance.

Then I heaved a huge sigh and turned back to the campsite.

The general office was easy enough to find. A bell over the door chimed loudly when I walked in, and a plump, cheery-faced woman greeted me behind her desk.

Mary-Alice Adams, her nametag read.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

"Uh, my name is Bonnie Bennett, and I'm here to sign in."

"Oh, yes, of course. Bonnie Bennett, you said? I'll go fetch your file, dear." She disappeared through a door behind her. It whistled as it flew shut.

I leaned against the counter for a while, glancing at the neatly stacked pile of paper and the computer perched on top of her desk.

Then I glanced around the tiny office, taking a few steps back to examine the noticeboard on the far right hand side of the office.

Ice-Breaker Bonfire Night, one of the posters read. Grab some marshmallows with your new good fellows!

I rolled my eyes.

The bell chimed loudly once more, as the main door to the general office swung open again.

I turned around, a little startled.

In pranced a girl with wild, blonde curls and a mean smile. She was wearing tiny denim shorts and a black t-shirt with the words "Spell You Later" printed on it in a golden cursive scrawl.

She's a witch, I deduced.

She stopped short when she saw me, glancing from the top of my short, curled hair to the tip of my worn black sneakers. I felt like she was sizing me up, and she probably was.

She made eye-contact then, pacing forward and knocking shoulders with me as she crossed out in front of me.

I rubbed my arm nervously.

"You're new," she said.

I cracked a pained smile. "Hi," I said, trying to sound neither too glum nor annoyed. "I'm B-"

"Yeah I know who you are," she interrupted me obnoxiously. "You're the Bennett witch."

I furrowed my eyebrows in bewilderment. Was I already famous?

"We've never had a Bennett witch enroll here before," she continued.

Well, yeah, I thought. Aside from me, the only other living Bennett witch – that I knew of, anyway – was my cousin Lucy. And Lucy was miles away.

"So who are you?" I asked.

She stared at me a fair while before replying. "Liv." She crossed her arms out in front of her and raised an eyebrow at me as if I was going to challenge her identity.

"What coven?"

"You'll find out," she said elusively.

I blinked at her, mildly exasperated.

She turned her back on me then, walking around the reception desk to pull open the bottom drawer and rifle through it.

"Are you supposed to be doing that?" I asked.

"Relax," she said condescendingly. "I do this all the time."

That didn't exactly answer my question.

She seemed to find whatever she was looking for, snatching it up and shutting the drawer.

I couldn't make out what it was. It was enclosed tightly in her fist.

She strolled past me casually, stopping to turn her head slightly in my direction. "Welcome to hell, by the way. I'll catch you later, witchbitch."

The bell above the door chimed with her exit.