KAILA'S POV:
It had been about a week since I moved here. A week since I met Damon and Stefan Salvatore. A week since I met my best friends Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena. In a week, I had grown close to each of them, closer than I had ever been with any of my foster parents. They had come to be my family.
But still, I felt like they were keeping some big secret from me. Not just some petty third grade secret, either. If what I was feeling was right, this was some major shit. Like life and death. They were keeping something from me. I could tell by the way they hushed down what seemed like a very tense conversation when I walked up to them. The way they seemed to disappear right before something horrific happened.
I was determined to find out what it was, but I didn't exactly know how to approach the subject. Somehow I didn't think it would be appropriate to randomly bombard their conversation and say, "Hey, guys, just wondering what crazy heavy secret you guys were keeping from me because I'm a stubborn ass and refuse to keep my nose out of places it doesn't belong." No, that didn't seem right.
So I decided on tricking Damon into telling me. Of course, it probably wouldn't work (being as he is the master of cunning and wit) but if he caught onto my conniving, maybe I would just be able to get it out of him truthfully. Out of all of my friends here in Mystic Falls, I felt like I could trust him more. He seemed ready to tell me the truth more than the others. Perhaps it was the moment we had shared on that park bench the night of my arrival (we never really spoke of it, but the memory of each of our weaknesses hung silent between us, unseen by others, but unforgettable for us), or perhaps it was just my pathetic attraction to him. In any case, I was going for Damon.
So that day at school, I waited at the table outside by the trees that Damon always seemed to meet me at when lunch rolled around. I had started coming out here on my first real day of classes, munching on my pudding cup and bagel as I sketched the trees in front of me, or any other object around me that I deemed interesting.
I flipped the top few pages of my sketch pad over the top and sighed at the half-finished tree picture. It was coming along nicely, the etches in the bark highlighted by deeper scratches from my pencil and a lighter-colored marking of a pointy heart with "BW+KR" carved into it. I took one more spoonful of pudding before swiping my bangs out of my face to get a better view of the tree.
"Hey, there," I heard a familiar cocky voice say as a tall body slid onto the tabletop beside me.
"Damon," I greeted, using the edge of my pencil to shade the area where the leaves cast a long shadow on the trunk.
"Still drawing that thing? Its dying, why draw that one?"
I frowned down at the paper. I saw it as full of life, sustaining and symbolizing. "Its got character."
"Yeah," he grumbled, laying on his back on the table, "the character of a dead tree."
I finished sketching in the last few marks on the bark and turned around to see him eating my pudding. I frowned at him and snatched it back. "Thief," I muttered, as he glared at me, spoon still in his mouth. "So, I was thinking," I started, ripping small pieces off my bagel. I was suddenly nervous. Which was ridiculous! This was just reconnaissance, nothing more. "You wanna hang out after school today or something?" I kept my eyes on the bagel in front of me, but I could feel his electric blue gaze glued to the side of my face.
"Yeah, sure," he said, nonchalantly. But there was an undercurrent I was unfamiliar with in his voice. I was too focused right now to linger on that though.
"Alright," I said, beginning to rip a small corner off of a piece of paper from my notebook. I quickly jotted down my address and handed it to him. "Here's my address. How about five o'clock?" I could finally look at him now.
He had a hand under his head and was staring up into the canopy of tree leaves above. He held his hand out for the piece of paper, eyes locked on the sky. I grinned, but tried (unsuccessfully) to hide it, and placed it in his hand. He absently slipped it into his front pocket.
After a silent moment of awkwardness, I sighed and said, "Well, I'd better go find Bonnie. She's helping me with my Chemistry homework." He merely grunted as I walked away. I stopped a few feet away to glance back at him, but he was gone along with any evidence that he had been there.
Oo0oO
"Bye, see you guys Monday," I said, smiling at Bonnie and Elena as I started to walk back in the direction of my house. I had an hour and a half alone (absentee foster parents were sometimes convenient) before Damon showed up, so I distracted myself by pulling out my fold-away easel and setting it up in the back yard.
Nuka was yipping happily as she bounded around in the green grass. I chuckled and got to work painting the garden Julia had planted. Her green thumb was one of the few things I admired about her.
I didn't understand how two people so open to adoption could adopt me and then completely ignore me. Sure they gave me the basic necessities along with a fully furnished room, but really, they never spoke to me other than to ask me to do the dishes or call me down to dinner. All I really wanted was for a little bit of company in this big, empty house. They were always at work it seemed. Today I would have company, though.
My thoughts on Julia and Jack had made me a bit angry, so my painting was leaning more towards shadows and an overall nightmarish version of the colorful garden before me. I pulled back, cocking my head to the side and shrugged. It looked good that way. Darkness creeping over the petals of the tulips, unknown entities climbing in the morning glory, a veiling mist slinking along the ground among the dahlia stems.
I had lost so much track of time with painting the Gothic Garden that I almost didn't hear the knock at the door.
"Oh crap," I murmured as I checked my watch, saw that it was indeed five o'clock, and inspected the deep paint stains all over my clothes. I had long ago pulled my hair back and my hand was coated in paint more than the rest of my body. I quickly set the brush down on the tray and rushed through the back door into the kitchen. "Just a second!" I called to the door as a second knock came.
I grabbed a hand towel and wet my hands down, trying to scrape some of the paint off. I gave up when only a few small chips came off and made my way frantically down the hall to the front door. I yanked the door open, sure my hair was all over the place and I looked ridiculous.
Damon tried, with difficulty, to conceal his grin. "Painting are we?"
I nodded and waved a hand, indicating for him to come in, but he remained outside. "What are you waiting for?" I asked, smirking at him.
He leaned against the doorjamb. "For you to invite me in."
I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. "What are you, a vampire?"
He cocked a brow at me. "Yes."
I rolled my eyes again and started to walk down the hall, waving a hand to him over my shoulder, trying to get him to follow me. But I heard no footsteps behind me. I turned back to him, exasperated. "Damon, would you please get in the damn house?"
He sighed in relief and crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him. "Thank you!" he said, holding his hands up, as though he had waited years for it.
I grinned and led him into the kitchen. "So, you want something to eat? Drink?" I asked.
He sat at one of the stools pulled up to the island. "Whiskey if you have any. Juice box if not."
I had to hold in a giggle at the mental image of Damon sipping from a juice box. I turned to Jack's liquor cabinet and opened it up, using the key I knew he kept in the back of the cupboard over the microwave. "Merry Christmas," I said, waving a hand around in front of the army of alcohol.
He smirked and moved forward, selecting a bottle. "Your dad wont mind?" he asked, popping the top.
"Jack," I said, emphasizing his name. That impassive man was not my father. "won't be home until midnight if I know anything at all. Julia will be even longer."
He took a long, slow drink. "So can I see what you were painting?"
I hesitated.
"Ooh, is it a secret?" he asked, suddenly interested as he used one elbow to lean back again the counter, facing me.
"You're one to talk about secrets," I accused, narrowing my eyes and crossing my arms.
He continued, unabashed. "I know most artists do nude portraits at some time or another in their life, but really, if you wanted me to model for you, you could've just asked. You didn't have to strain your limited imagination for it."
As always, Damon was good at deflecting the attention from his own shortcomings by bringing up ridiculous false scenarios that displayed several of your own.
"There is nothing wrong with my imagination! And I did not- Wait, no! This is about you."
"Is that it out there?" he asked, glancing out of the window to the backyard. He set his glass down and started to move toward the door.
I ran ahead of him, standing in the doorway before he could exit the house. I had made it just in time and I put our bodies rather close, which kind of scrambled my brain. And everything sensible in me told me that he knew it. "How about we make a deal?" I asked quietly, my voice coming out unevenly.
His eyes brightened. "This should be interesting."
"I'll let you see my painting," I said hesitantly; I didn't usually like for people to see what I painted. "If you tell me what is going on with you. You're hiding something. You all are. Something big."
He shrugged. "Fine, I'll tell you. I was going to anyway, but now I get to see your painting."
He grinned at me and brushed me aside as I gaped disbelievingly at him.
Here we go. Thanks for reading and please review! :)
