It's a strange talent to have.
Being the new kid.
Knowing when to talk. (Answer questions thoughtfully, and briefly, never ramble. Never reveal more about yourself than absolutely necessary.) Knowing how to dress. (Scout the town before school starts, different places have different styles, make it work but don't appear as if you're trying too hard.) Knowing how to be a good student. (Have the answers, but never raise your hand more than once. Never appear as if you're smarter than everyone. Use intelligence as an ice breaker, not a weapon.)
It's more a survival skill than talent, if he thinks about it a second longer than normal, his inner monologue always spinning more lines than necessary the day before a new school. A skill he's cultivated across more than a dozen institutions of learning in the last ten years. Military family. Moving around goes with the territory.
One that's coming full circle, to the place of his birth, but he has no memory of. Some wooded little town in Virginia, a mere twenty minutes away from one of the largest bases in the country.
He turns down the offer of a guide, having studied the school map on the wall, while waiting for his transfer papers to go through. Walking out of the office with class schedule in hand, he catches the sound of laughter and immediately thinks of butterflies, but when glancing around for the source finds nothing.
/\
Matt Donovan, by all social stereotypes, should be a douche bag. Blonde haired, blue eyed, football player in a letterman's jacket is an eighties high school movie villain almost all of the time. It's refreshing Stefan finds, that his invitation after meeting in history class, to sit with his friends at lunch was one of sincerity rather than sticking it to the new kid.
His best friend Tyler, however, escapes no such preconceived notions. A withering glare is all that's offered at Matt's introduction, sizing up fresh meat with predator's eyes, Stefan half expects him to grunt a reply to his monosyllabic 'hey.'
Elena, Matt's girlfriend, does offer welcome. As does her sister, a mirror image only marred by the curl of her hair, sticking out her hand and introducing herself as Katherine. Tyler's glare only intensifies at the contact, and Stefan figures out pretty quick that the best friends share the same end of the dating pool.
Bonnie is next, and he offers a friendly nod to a bright smile, before idly picking at his food and waiting for the inevitable barrage of questions.
"So, where are you from?" Elena.
"Technically, I'm from here," is his reply. "But my last stop was in San Diego."
"California?" Katherine. "This podunk little town must feel like Mars after that."
"It's not so bad." (Neutral answer. Neither insulting possible town pride, nor dismissing general teen angst for their limited surroundings.)
"So your dad's a uniform?" Matt.
"Three star general."
Bonnie whistles.
"My dad never made it past sargent," she offers.
"Do you play ball?" Tyler finally chiming in.
One look at his sleeve and Stefan knows the only sport that counts as 'ball' to him is the kind where you get tackled to the ground.
"Until I blew out my shoulder last summer." (A lie, but joining teams just means further attachment. And really, what's the point when he might not last a season?)
The questions keep coming, and Stefan answers them all with a self depreciating charm, which works at endearing him to a new group just as well as it always has.
/\
The party is in full swing, bonfires and beer in the middle of the woods, as Stefan wanders the outskirts of all the gathered kids just looking for a good time. He holds a plastic cup in his hand, occasionally sipping it for show, his self imposed two drink limit a fact no one need be aware of.
He bumps into Matt by the keg, refill number two, and smiles genuinely at the "dude, where have been?" greeting.
The group greets him with raised cups, shouting 'hey' in a dragged out unison. All except Tyler, that is, but Stefan doesn't expect any less. He and Bonnie clink glasses, as Katherine and Elena hook their arms together before downing the rest of their own drinks. Matt cheers the action, and Tyler follows, while Stefan chuckles to himself. No matter where he is, kids are pretty much the same, and that little fact is what makes his constant transitions so seamless.
Half an hour later, everyone is well on their way to being properly drunk, when Stefan catches that laughter again. Butterflies and bright summer days pop into his mind, and this time looking around he actually finds the source.
Honey blonde hair and a smile like sun, reflected by a burning barrel's fickle flame, is what he sees and before he knows it he's tapping Matt on the arm.
"So," he starts, trying to come off casual, and nodding in her direction. "Who's that?"
Matt smirks at the question, as if he's learned something just by the asking of it, taking a purposeful drink of beer to keep him in suspense.
"That," he replies on the swallow. "Is Caroline Forbes."
"She's not involved in this little circle?"
"Occasionally," Matt continues. "She and Katherine have this weird competitive frienemies thing going on. It's one of the off periods right now."
"What's her story?"
"Sheriff's daughter. Or niece. You know, that's not really clear. She moved here a year ago. Does a lot of activities. Clubs, cheerleader, stuff that like that."
Stefan watches her interact with the people that surround her, how she is clearly the center of attention, and loves every second of it. God, that smile. He could stare at it for days.
"Go for it," Matt says with a nudge.
Stefan takes a drink for liquid courage, and does exactly that.
/\
Caroline is every bit the beaming ray on sunshine his assumption conveyed, she not even missing a step in her circle when he wanders up and introduces himself, trying for James Dean cool even when his stomach flops from cheap beer and a pretty face.
"Stefan Salvatore I presume," she replies off his single name introduction.
His brow lifts curiously.
"Small town," she continues. "Word spreads pretty fast. You're a Gemini and you're favorite color is blue."
He can't help the smile that comes.
"Did you, uh, ask about me?"
Her eyes focus on him intently, so sudden and strong, a blush creeps into his cheeks and he attempts to deflect from this fact with a quick drink.
"I make it my business to know things," she offers.
"Yeah, what kind of things?"
Those eyes, her lips, he's lost in the hypnotic gaze of the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Sunshine and rainbows, with the underlying threat of thunder and lightning any moment, and he's locked in place waiting for it to unfold.
"Everything."
One by one, her little court of people has wandered off, each knowing a moment when they see it and filing away accordingly. Stefan is thankful, his carefully plotted points of fitting in, are easily being erased by the presence of her. (Be aloof, but not distant. Be mysterious, but not cloying. Make yourself available, but never appear to be in need.)
He wants to know her. Right away, he wants to know everything about her. Hopes and dreams. Loves and desires. He wants the knowledge to be put to use, to give her everything and more. He takes another drink to quell the thoughts from his mind, each spinning far too fast for his liking, this not a movie nor fairytale. Love at first sight a myth, but a sudden overbearing curiosity, so very real.
"I hear you're fairly new here too," he manages to say, letting his cup fall back next to his leg.
"I come and go," she replies. "Something about this place always brings me back, you know? I guess it's home."
Home. That he doesn't know. So many places lived in such a small about of years. He's had houses. Apartments. Barracks. None of those he'd ever call home. She steps closer to him and his breath catches, inwardly cringing as he hopes she didn't hear, but knows she did off the little grin it causes.
"Have you been down to the falls yet?" she asks.
"The falls?"
"Namesake of sheltered little burg. The moonlight hits the mist a certain way, and I guess people thought it was mystic a hundred years ago."
"Can't say that I have."
"Well, they are really cool at night," she goes on, hand reaching for his. "And I could show you. If you want."
She rarely gets told no. The thought is as random as it is prevalent, but no less true, and he's not about to be an exception to the rule.
/\
The falls are a sight to behold.
His interest is fleeting however, the distraction of Caroline's arm looped through his, keeping him from truly appreciating such a natural wonder. Her proximity is making him dizzy, the slight scent of lilac, coupled with the thought that this is all moving awfully fast.
"So you've integrated yourself into a group of people pretty quick," she remarks, breaking their momentary silence.
"I am well practiced," he responds.
"How well?"
"This is my fifth high school," he answers. "Twelfth school over all. So, you learn to make friends quick, or you end up a loner."
She lays that gaze on him again, such intensity, all instinct clamors for him to cut and run.
"But you are a loner," she offers.
"What?"
Her hand lifts to his cheek, a whisper sweet caress.
"You make friends quickly, but none of them really know you. What you see is what you get kind of thing, am I right?"
His mouth drops open. Part of him wants to be insulted as much as he wants to ask if she's psychic.
"You're never around long enough for someone to see past the surface, and you don't want to let them anyway, because it will make leaving that much more difficult."
"Is this part of your business of knowing things?" he asks.
She looks away to the falls.
"I can relate," she answers. "That's all."
"Are you a military brat, too?"
She laughs softly.
"Hardly."
She leans in closer.
"Word of advice Stefan?"
She's so close, it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to keep his eyes from falling shut, to let himself just breath her in.
"Yeah?"
"In such a romantic setting, with a girl who clearly wants you to kiss her, calling her a brat might not be the brightest idea."
She closes the gap before he can reply, the defense that it's just a turn of phrase, dying on his tongue as hers slips past his lips. Her hands grip the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer with a strength he wouldn't have guessed her capable of.
Then, just as quickly as they'd begun, she breaks away gasping.
Excitement and euphoria flood his consciousness, so that he doesn't come crashing back to Earth the second the kiss ends, but when it happens his eyes open to discover he's left alone on the log where they sat.
(Just when things were going so well.)
/\
He's at his locker, doing the after lunch textbook swap and talking to Matt and Elena, when Caroline approaches with a sheepish look. Matt immediately cuts off his sentence, gives Elena's hand a not so subtle tug, and departs with a playful lift of his eyebrows.
"Hi," she says.
Stefan stuffs a book into his backpack.
"Hey," he replies.
"I think I owe you an apology."
"For what?" he wonders aloud. "If you think that's the first time I've been loved and left, then you'd be right."
Her face pinches momentarily in confusion, before a smile overtakes the expression, and she laughs freely. The hairs on the back of Stefan's neck stand at attention, and he knows without a doubt, that he would do anything to keep her making that sound.
"I don't," she begins with the laughter fades. "I mean, I don't usually..."
She sighs and puts a hand to her forehead.
"I don't usually end up making out with a guy half an hour after meeting him," she finishes. "And I don't cut and run quite so easily either."
"So what you're saying is," Stefan fills in, leaning against his locker in a poor attempt of cool guy posturing. "I'm special."
That laugh again, how it sends a shiver down his spine.
"What I'm saying," she says, hand reaching out to play with a button on his shirt. "Is I like you. Because, duh. You remind me of someone I used to know, actually."
That gets his attention.
"Old boyfriend?"
Her smile is illusive.
"Something like that. So yeah, totally hot awesome guy, that's you. But, maybe we should get to know each other a little better?"
His fingers clasps around her wrist.
"I have absolutely no problem with that."
/\
His first, and only, serious girlfriend was back in ninth grade when dad was stationed in Hawaii. He and Keala held hands, made out, and declared their undying love for three beautiful months. Then came another transfer order, and that as they say, was that. Stefan finds that though he's a little older, perhaps a tiny bit wiser, the holding hands and making out parts of dating are still his favorite.
Caroline reattaches herself into the group, despite whatever drama between she and Katherine still hangs in the air, easily finding a place with sparking personality and sunny disposition. For a solid month, he's the happiest he's ever been, with friends and a girlfriend. He can feel the walls he cultivates oh so carefully, begin to erode with each passing day. Though a voice in the back of his mind constantly reminds him that soon it will all end abruptly, as it always does, he quells it down by allowing himself to enjoy whatever happens.
The voice starts murmuring one morning, while he waits next to the flagpole in front of the school for Caroline to arrive, and she doesn't show. He tries not to make a big deal of it, but in the brief time he's known her, punctuality has been a factor. He sends a text and waits a minute, sends another when she doesn't respond, and calls her direct after five with no answer.
With the assumption that she must be sick, sleeping, and doesn't hear her phone he starts to head to class. Running into Bonnie in the hall, he asks if she's heard from Caroline, knowing they live just a few houses down from each other.
The look on his friend's face at the mention of Caroline's name gives him pause. How her eyes go wide, and she bites her bottom lip, quickly looking away.
"Bonnie," he says, voice tinged with concern. "Did something happen?"
She turns back to him, now composed, but Stefan recognizes the moment he's about to be lied to. His dad does it all the time with anything he deems classified. (Which is basically everything to General Salvatore.)
"She's at home," Bonnie replies.
"What happened?"
"She's fine," Bonnie assures. "She's resting."
"Bonnie," he says again. "Tell me."
"She's fine," she repeats. "You don't have to worry."
He moves past her, heading back to the door when her hand reaches out.
"You love her don't you?"
"I..."
It's too soon for that word, he thinks. Neither of them have said it yet. Have even thought to say it. But she has is affection. As much as he can possibly give to another person. He would do anything for her, walk through a desert or frozen tundra just to be with her, as dramatic as that all sounds. Maybe it is love after all.
"Be careful Stefan," Bonnie warns. "There's things about Caroline I don't think you want to know."
He doesn't know how to take that, and keeps on walking. Once outside he runs right into Tyler, who looks pissed. Stefan tries to sidestep him, but the other boy doesn't let him pass.
"Come on man," Stefan sighs. "Not today."
Tyler doesn't offer explanation, or space, just clenches his fists as if anything will set him off. Stefan sheds his backpack, waiting for whatever is going to happen. He never did like Tuesdays.
/\
"Caroline?" he all but shouts, knocking on her front door. "Are you in there? Caroline?"
He knocks louder when there's no answer, putting a hand up to the glass on the door to peer inside, and exhales in relief at the sight of her slowly coming to answer. She twists the knob, and he carefully pushes his way inside, hands on her arms as he looks her up and down.
She's paler than usual, and by how long it took her to even get to the door, he would have just assumed the flu if Bonnie hadn't freaked him out earlier. Whatever it was couldn't tell him, is clearly all bad.
"Stefan," she says weakly. "I got your texts. Sorry I didn't reply, but I've been... resting."
He embraces her carefully, lips pressing a kiss into her hair, and laughing with relief when she hugs him back.
"You're okay?" he questions into her shoulder.
"I will be," she assures.
"What happened?"
She pulls back, only now noticing he's not entirely unscathed himself.
"What happened to you?"
He knows his left eye is swollen, as is one of his cheeks, there's a cut somewhere too that he hadn't been overtly concerned with.
"Katherine broke up with Tyler."
Caroline's jaw drops.
"And he took it out on you?"
"I guess she's had a thing for me this whole time?"
Caroline doesn't look the least bit surprised.
"And apparently that's my fault."
"He's an idiot," Caroline mutters. "And she's a bitch. They deserve each other."
Her hand moves to inspect the damage, fingers coming away with blood from the cut, and she turns from him far too quickly than her current state should allow.
"Caroline?"
"You need to go," she warns.
"What? What are you-"
"Now!" she exclaims, voice heavy with a weight he's never heard.
"Whatever it is," he offers, refusing to move. "You can tell me."
She doesn't reply, only keeps her back to him. He takes a cautious step forward, then another when she doesn't move. Hand on her shoulder, he tries to twist her back to him, but she won't budge.
"Don't," she whispers. "Don't look at me. I'm hideous."
He almost laughs.
"That is about the most opposite word I would ever use to describe you."
After he says it, she doesn't resist, letting him turn her back round so that they face each other. The black vein spiderweb spread across her eyes is shocking, as are the fangs that now grace her teeth, but he is not afraid and doesn't run screaming like she no doubt assumed he would.
"You could have told me," he says softly.
"Yeah, that would have been a real conversation starter. Hey cute guy I like. I'm a murderer. A monster. But why don't we go steady?"
Stefan hand goes under her chin, leveling her eyes to his.
"You don't scare me."
"I should."
"You don't."
"Stefan..."
There are things about himself he never shares, no matter how close he may get to someone, how much he may feel like he can trust them. Because he always leaves. Because no matter where he goes, he has to carry it with him, and can never be left to feel like it might come back to haunt him. (When you're the new kid, you say you have a father, he's in the military and you move around a lot. You never talk about your mother. Dead. Or your brother. Also dead. And you never, ever, bring up the fact that it almost happened to you too.)
"I know what you are," he interrupts.
"Do you?"
"Believe it or not," he continues. "You're not the first vampire I've met."
She looks at him curiously, her face finally shifting back to the one he knows.
"On my fifteenth birthday," Stefan says grimly. "My mother tried to kill me."