Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries isn't my property... neither is the title (RIP Kurt Cobain) or the lyrics.

I'm probably going to kick myself for starting a new story, much less one that isn't on my Upcoming Stories list, but insomnia and inspiration are sisters... brothers? Anyhow, here's my new Bamon story that may or may not be slightly based off of that awful show I hate. I haven't decided yet.

~Prologue~

And we were just kids in love
The summer was full of mistakes we wouldn't learn from
The first kiss stole the breath from my lips
Why did the last one tear us apart?

~Mayday Parade, Kids In Love~

I hate the beach.

I don't know why exactly, but I do. Maybe it's the seagulls and their insistent need to put their diseased feet all over my french fries, while the guy next to me has left a cheeseburger unattended on his beach towel. It could be the sand, though, because I'm still shaking it out of my bags a week after we leave. But in all honesty, it's probably having to spend two weeks straight with my parents. I mean, they can't keep their hands out of each other's pants long enough to choose a restaurant to eat at.

I blame my father's new Viagra prescription.

Elena tells me that it could be worse, that they could be fighting constantly like her parents, but I'm fairly certain that hearing your mom and dad fuck one another on a daily basis is a leading cause of childhood complexes.

Not that I'd ever tell her that, but I can't help but think it from time to time. Especially since she isn't here like she usually is. Apparently, spending the week in Aspen with Caroline is a better alternative than our annual trip to Virginia Beach. Not that I'm bitter about it or anything...

"Bonnie, go unlock the door." My dad tosses the keys to me.

I get out of the car and stomp up the walkway leading to the porch. I'll be damned if I have to act happy about giving them a minute to make-out in the privacy of our van.

And to think, I actually liked this place when I was younger. I remember how I used to ask Dad to paint my room the exact same shade of red as the front door, how I tried to smuggle the various knickknacks that sit atop the mantel home, how I liked to take naps in the hammock out back—even though I hated naps, Mommy, because they were for babies.

Shit just went downhill from there.

When Elena (the traitor) finally started to vacation with us everything began to look up. She still doesn't mind the cheesy show tunes Mom sings on the drive up here or how Dad seems to burn dinner every time he fires up the grill. But then again, she is in Colorado right now.

Once the door is open, I flip the light switch on, illuminating the foyer.

I contemplate running upstairs and locking myself in my bedroom for the duration of our stay, but that idea is killed the second my parents decide to join me.

"Go put your swim suit on, dear. We're going to spend the entire day at the beach!"

I look at the clock on the wall. "It's only ten-thirty..."

"We can tell time, kiddo." Dad says, handing me my suitcase.

Not if you're sucking Mom's face, I think to myself.

I throw my beach towel on the sand. The rest of my crap soon follows.

There isn't much to do at the beach and I can't figure out why my parents insist on spending every waking second here... or why the drag me along with them, for that matter. They're clearly better off by themselves. I shake my head as I watch my mother wrap her arms around her husband's neck, planting a kiss squarely on his lips. Dad responds enthusiastically, hands moving to a place where I can't see them.

Okay... gross.

I take a book from my bag and start to read it. Anything to keep my mind off of that disgusting display of affection.

"Hi Bonnie!" a familiar voice says.

What the hell is Stefan doing here?

I lift my eyes from the page to see my best friend's boyfriend standing in front of me in nothing but a very flattering swim suit.

"Hey Stef," I greet, giving him a nod. "What's up?"

"Nothing really, just trying to keep Damon entertained." he looks over his shoulder, sighing.

I crack a smile at that one. "Really? I figured he was an expert at entertaining himself by now."

"You'd think... but apparently breaking up with Rose has given him too much alone time."

"Oh, and here I thought someone so 'amazingly sexy' could never be bored with himself."

"So Bennett, you finally admit that you find me sexy."

Speak of the Devil...

I glare at the smug expression on Damon's face. "Get real, Salvatore. Hell hasn't frozen over yet."

I consider throwing my book at his face, but chances are he'll turn around and throw it in the ocean and I really don't feel like wasting fifteen dollars on him.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to catch cold sweetheart."

"Fuck off."

I want to wipe that damn smirk right off of his pretty face. "Will do."

Tuesday

I briefly consider bolting in the opposite direction when I see Damon lounging in a hideous beach chair not two centimeters from where I was stationed yesterday.

But why should I?

He's only there to get on my nerves. Damon Salvatore is well-known for knowing exactly what buttons to press—good or bad. That's how he gets all of his girlfriends... he tells them what they want to hear and they give him what he wants. It's almost the same with me, I suppose, but it's an inverse equation. He gives me that shit-eating grin, says something insulting, and he gets a reaction (usually negative) from me.

But not today.

I won't let him get the best of me.

Trudging over to him, I go about my routine as per usual, pretending that he isn't even there. Retrieve my book, open it to a random page, and sit there in complete silence.

"Hello Bonnie," cue winning smile and false interest. "How are you?"

Keep reading, don't even glance at him.

"I'm great, thanks for asking. I met a very nice girl named Sage last night... oh, look! There's your parents!" Damon gestures to my mother and father, inviting them to come over.

"You didn't tell us the Stefan and Damon would be here!" Mom exclaims, as if she's beyond ecstatic that I've found someone else to spend my time with. How quickly she forgets that Damon "accidentally" pushed me from the Jungle Gym in kindergarten.

I shrug. "I didn't know either, Mom. Trust me." If I did, I'd still be in Mystic Falls right now. There's no way I'd voluntarily be in the same place as this asshole. There isn't enough money in the world, no reward large enough to compensate a second of the vacation I've wasted associating with him.

"Well, I'll let you two catch up then..." she trails off, giving Dad The Look.

Just shoot me now...

Damon watches them as they walk away, an amused expression on his face. "It looks like they're having a nice time."

"Don't remind me," I grumble.

"It's good that old people can still have an active sex life," he continues, his voice growing more and more condescending with each word. "I bet they do it every night."

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" I slam the book shut, seething.

"Sure, if you take away the 'shut' and 'the' away and replace the 'up' with a 'me.'"

"I'd rather staple my eyelids shut."

Another shit-eating grin. "Oh, so you're into the kinky shit?"

"At least my dad can stay committed. What's your dad on now? Wife number six?" I'm almost surprised at the malice in my voice, but Damon has always brought the worst out in me.

I turn to face him, expecting to find anger in his blue eyes, but he actually looks kind of sad.So sad in fact, that part of me regrets saying that—even though the bastard deserved it.

"Girlfriend number twenty, I think. They usually leave him when he's bought them a new car or something. This one's volleying for a new golf cart to put in her driveway. 'It'll look so cute once we buy that new house!' It's the really expensive one on Crystal Cove."

"Wait... the huge three-story one that you drive past on your way to the boardwalk?"

He nods.

"So you're here because your dad's gold-digger wants a new beach-front property?" I'm disgusted by that, not even Mr. Salvatore deserves to be treated like a doormat. It doesn't sit well with my moral fiber.

"Pretty much."

"That sucks." I say and he nods in agreement.

"Tell me about it."

Saturday

It won't be so bad... I tell myself, running the brush through my hair one last time. It might even be fun.

If someone had told me that I'd be going to a party with Damon Salvatore a few days ago; I would have accused them of being on drugs... but now...

Well, now I am going out with him, more out of boredom than anything else, but I guess the why doesn't matter. At least I'm getting out of the house and away from the love birds...

I don't know what Damon has planned for tonight, but it's sure to be more fun than watching Twilight for the umpteenth time—alone.

When the car finally comes to a stop we are sitting in the parking lot designated for the boardwalk.

"Are you going to win me a teddy bear?" I ask sarcastically.

"Probably not," he answers, smug. "Not if you're going to be a kill joy."

"I'm not a kill joy!" I protest, hitting him in the arm.

"Please, your nickname is Buzz Kill Bennett."

I roll my eyes. "No it's not!"

"Fine," he says, typical Damon-smile in place. "Prove me wrong, then."

Somehow, that translated into us driving back to his father's girlfriend's house and raiding her liquor cabinet.

I'm not sure how many shots I drank or when I planned on stopping—if I planned on stopping—only that Damon congratulated me on disapproving his theory with a kiss that tasted like vodka.

I respond in a very undignified manner, wrapping my arms around his neck and crawling into his lap.

At some point, I feel his hand drifting into what is supposed to be unauthorized territory, but I don't tell him to stop. Not then and not when he unbuttons my shorts and rids me of my shirt. To be fair, I return the favor and by the time all of our clothes are lying in a pile on the floor, we are both having too much fun to think about the consequences of our actions.

So we don't stop and I don't think about regret once over the span of the night.

A week later...

I'm putting the last of our suitcases in the trunk when I throw one final glance at Damon's house. Some part of me still expects him to come over to apologize. Say sorry for not telling me about his new girlfriend or the fact that I ran into them on the boardwalk just two days after we had sex or that she was shoving her tongue down his throat.

Not that I'm shocked, I should have known better.

Some things never change.

So... what did you guys think? The first official chapter should be up soon. Part of me thinks this is a little OOC so please leave me some feedback.

Thanks for reading!