In Temptations Path:

A/N- I forgot to mention in the preface that this fanfic is void of any vampires -ALL CHARACTERS ARE HUMAN. Also, someone mentioned that they'd have preferred it I'd it had started from their first meeting and eventually built up to this point. Just to clarify, THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER WAS A PREFACE -AN INSIGHT TO THE STORY IF YOU WILL. THIS CHAPTER AND HERE ON FORTH WILL BE MONTHS BEFORE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER TOOK PLACE AND WE WILL EVENTUALLY WORK OUR WAY TO THAT POINT IN THE STORY. If anyone is confused or just wants to ask a question at any point, please just ask and I will be more than willing to answer any of your questions. With that said, please continue...


Chapter 1:

I stared longingly at the piled boxes in my new bedroom, twiddling my thumbs and fingers absentmindedly as I considered what box my prized journals were wedged in. After dad had died, my mum, Miranda, had encouraged me to convey my thoughts onto paper to ease the pain of my father's demise and I was more than happy to oblige. At first, they hadn't diminished the pain whatsoever, but over time I grew to enjoy the feeling of unleashing my emotions onto something else that wouldn't have to deal with the weight of my words. Dad had died in a car accident nearly two years prior, and I still wasn't over it. It was a complete different story for my mother though.

Don't get me wrong, my mum loved dad -she was distraught when he died. But I'm pretty certain that she's moving on. The man at the door with a bouquet of vibrant red roses encircled in his arms backs up my assumptions. There's a new man escorting her every month, but he's never the one. I tut under my breath and backed away from the window, shaking away the thoughts of him becoming my step-father.

Nobody would ever replace my father, I thought bitterly, repulsed by the mere thought of it. Just as this thought flickered through my cluttered head, my mother opened the front door with a bright smile on her face.

I was thankful that Jeremy, my brother, was not present at this moment. He despised seeing handfuls of men taking mum on countless dates every month, and, unfortunately, mum was oblivious to this facet of information. He hid it well behind his mask of indifference, but I could see the pain in his eyes -exactly the same shade of green as our fathers- when he caught them kissing her cheek before tucking her safely into their car. He was a year younger than myself -only sixteen years old- and he was heavily burdened with the death of our father. Since our fathers death, he'd turned to drugs and excessive drinking -he rejected the journal mum presented him with. At times it seemed as if I was the only influence in his life and I took pride in that. He looked up to me and respected me and listened to what I had to say. He'd stopped taking drugs since I'd begged him and he'd lowered the consumption of alcohol over the past few months. The was he acted made it seem like he felt responsible for dads death, but in reality it was my fault and I blamed myself every day for the dreadful nights occurrences on that bridge by our old home, miles away from here.

Muttering under my breath, I trudged back to the window and threw the beige curtains shut, successfully blocking them from my view.

I noticed a box with 'books' scrawled across the side of it and decided that was the best place, if any, to start searching for my beloved journal. I grinned when I noticed its worn corners peeking out from behind my personal copy of Wuthering Heights, and retrieved it. The sight of it rekindled old memories and I wiped some excess dust off of it as I stumbled to my bed, which was laden with scatter cushions in varying hues of beige and grey.

I fell back onto my bed and let out a sigh of relief. Today had been stressful to say the least, what with being in the process of moving houses and all. A fresh start mum had said -a new town to repress old memories. There were complications along the way, of course, what with me being defiant and adamantly not wanting to leave our old home –the only home I'd ever known.

I peeled the cover open and flicked to a clean, new page and began writing how it's ironic that the page symbolised the beginning of my new life in this quaint town of Mystic Falls and how, tomorrow, I'd enrol onto Mystic Falls High School –the bane of my existence.


I woke with a start –gasping and sweating. It's the same dream as usual –my dad pounding his fists relentlessly onto the unwavering glass of his car window, his mouth opened in a scream, yet no sound escapes him. And I'm just standing idly by, unable to move because I'm wedged in place by some unknown force. Then his car sinks into the dark and murky water until it's out of my view and I'm left hunched over on the pavement. I never do realise what holds me back in that dream, I awaken before I see the person that restrains me every time.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow and tried to regulate my breathing. I'd grown accustomed to this over the years and so I knew the routine I must go through to gain back the control of my emotions.

I laid flat on my back, my hair sprawled out like a halo around my head and I envisioned what tomorrow –or today should I say- will bring me. The thought of meeting new people made my heart beat erratically through my chest and I turned onto my side and tried to forget what today would bring.

My clock read 6:03am when I finally gave up on trying to sleep and I groggily rose from my slumber, a yawn on my lips. I arrived in my own bathroom and groaned at the sight of tendrils of my hair sticking to the beads of sweat on my forehead. Deciding that a wash is much needed, I clambered into the shower and fumbled with the unfamiliar dials to higher the heat, eventually fumbling for my choice of clothing for the day. I decide on a pair of faded jeans, a blue crotchet top and white converse.

My hair lay limp and dry on either side of my face and so I scrounged through the moving boxes for my tongs, intending to curl my hair. I fixed my make-up in place and threw my bag over my shoulder, heading for the door.

"What about breakfast?" Mum called from the kitchen where the sound of sizzling hit my ears and the smell of bacon and eggs invaded my senses. I padded to the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar from a cupboard, holding it up for inspection with a smirk on my face.

"You ready?" I smiled reassuringly to Jeremy, watching him devour his breakfast.

He nodded his head in turn and dumped his empty plate and utensils in the sink. Making his way towards me, he froze with one foot in the air. As if a last minute errand, he leaned over the countertop and placed a gentle kiss on mums cheek before continuing his path towards the front door.

"Okay, well, good luck, kids. Have fun." Mum called out as we both made our way to my car.

I grimaced at the word fun and escaped before she could interrogate me any further, twirling my keys around my finger.

"Ready?" I asked Jeremy, turning the keys in the ignition.

"Ready."

As soon as we arrived at the school parking lot, my gaze fell to the group of typical boys laughing animatedly at something one of them had said.

I rolled my eyes theatrically and parked a couple of cars down from them, evading them. Jeremy and I parted ways with an awkward farewell and I sluggishly trekked towards the school entrance. Of course, my plan didn't work as well as I'd hoped. I heard the snickers and jeering as I walked by them, saw them elbowing one another with lopsided grins on their faces, directing their fingers at me.

"Hey, sugar," One of them called out to me.

I froze mid-step and ducked my head, continuing on down the path leading to the entrance. Self-righteous bastards, I thought dejectedly.

As I rounded the corridor, I felt something hard bump into me and went stumbling backwards, falling directly onto my backside. I felt my cheeks burn a bright crimson and ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face as I returned to my feet.

"Sorry," I muttered, walking past the person I'd unintentionally collided with. I felt a strong hand snake around my arm and pull me back towards them. I gasped and stumbled a little until I was standing directly in front of them.

"Name?" The boy with silky black locks and piercing cobalt blue eyes questioned, staring at his cuticles intently, like they held the answer to life.

The boy in question was beyond gorgeous with his angular jaw and bushy eyebrows. Too bad he was an egotistical jerk with an attitude to boot.

"Excuse me?" I said, dumbstruck by his audacity to speak to me in that tone of voice.

"I said, what is your name?" He repeated himself, saying each syllable independently as if I was some freak of nature that didn't grasp something simple. He averted his eyes to me, letting his hand fall limply to his side. His expression was tense and stern, calculating and mischievous.

"I don't know who you think you are, but barging into someone and then demanding to know their name is disrespectful, and I don't appreciate the gesture…" I trailed off, folding my arms defiantly across my chest. His eyes zeroed in on the movement and he licked his lips.

He chuckled quietly and mimicked my action, folding his arms across his chest, "What, do you expect an apology?" I raised my eyebrows and waited for his sincerest apology that I knew deep down would never come, and I was right in my speculations.

"Damon, let's go!" A masculine voice boomed from down the hallway. Damon –as I'd just learned- turned and nodded his head in assent of his friend's words before turning back to me with a lopsided grin in full effect.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to my ear, his breath warm on my neck, and whispered hoarsely, "Well, you'll be waiting for a long time, Miss…?"

Regaining my composure and closing my mouth, I smirked and leaned just as close to his ear, "You'll be waiting for a long time before you discover my name, Damon."

Judging by the priceless expression on his face, he'd never been spoken to or rejected in such a manner. I grinned one last time for affect and turned on my heels, leaving him stunned into silence in my wake.

As I clambered in my new locker for my newly purchased textbooks, I felt a presence beside me and rolled my eyes, turning towards who I suspected was Damon. After all, he was the only person I'd had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of. Insert eye roll. "What do you want, Da-?" I grumbled, slamming my locker shut so I could see him. I was cut off when I realised that it wasn't Damon, but a girl with flouncing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes –not as astonishingly blue as Damon's, of course.

"Caroline," She smiled, extending her hand to me. I stared at her hand accusingly and didn't make a move to shake it. Awkwardly, she retracted her hand and hung it limply at her side.

"Elena," I said grimly, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

What does she want?

"So, I saw you talking to Damon…"

Of course.

"What's it to you?" I sneered, adjusting the strap of my backpack to accommodate my textbooks.

"Nothing, I was just curious. He looked livid." She observed, flickering her gaze to me as we walked side by side to our respective classes. "Do you guys know each other from somewhere? Are you one of his girls or something?"

Girls? Was he some sort of pimp or something?

"Excuse me?" I spat, shocked past the point of recognition. "I've never met Damon a day in my life and I am certainly not one of his girls."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry." She gulped, blushing profusely. "It's just; things looked kinda intense between the two of you."

"Well, there's nothing going on between us. I've only just met the guy, okay?" I snapped, shaking my head at the absurdity of the situation.

"Yeah, I completely understand. Sorry for being so…"

"Bitchy? It's fine." I smiled at her reassuringly and she smiled dimply in return.

Her grin spread and a small laugh escaped her, "I was going to say accusing, but bitchy is fine. What class do you have first?"

"Umm, chemistry. You?"

"Chemistry." She squealed excitedly, "Maybe we can be lab partners."

"Maybe." I smiled. Her laughter was infectious.

The first thing I noticed as I passed the threshold of the Chemistry classroom was the dishevelled midnight hair of Damon. He was twisted in his seat so I could not see his face, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was him. The contours of his back were defined and rippled under his tight-fitted black tee, and I could only imagine what it would feel like to run my hands over them, to feel him quiver under my touch. I could feel the slight wetness in my panties and instantly shook my head to dispel my train of thought.

"Ah, Miss Gilbert." The teacher whose identifier read Mr Saltzman said in greeting. He gestured for me to come to his desk with a small flick of his wrist. I looked to Damon one last time as I ambled towards his desk and noticed that he was staring at me with a wry grin on his lips.

Way to blow up the cover, Mr Saltzman.

"Settle down," He addressed the class before attending to me, "Now, what are we going to do with you?" He thought aloud, tapping his pen to his lip calculatingly.

"There's a spare seat here, sir." I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes dilating in shock. "Miss Gilbert is more than welcome to claim it."

I could hear Caroline protesting from the other side of the classroom where she sat with a girl with tan skin and silky black hair that complimented her complexion.

"Perfect," Mr Saltzman grinned, pleased with his accomplishment.

Still in a daze, I stumbled my way to the back of the classroom where Damon was seated at a lab desk. I flung my bag under the desk and sat beside him silently.

Mr Saltzman droned on about what subjects we'd be covering this term and made us take notes on each one. Time seemed to drag sitting next to Damon and I was more than eager for the tardy bell to signal the end of the lesson. I was beginning to regret choosing Chemistry as an option.

"I always get what I want, Miss Gilbert." Damon whispered near to my ear about halfway through the lesson. The pen in my hand faltered and I squeezed it until I thought the pressure I was exerting on it would make it explode. "You'll do well to remember that."