I think it's love that gets us through all of our goodbyes.
-Gin Wigmore

I leaned against my car as I waited for Damon to meet me here. The wind began to pick up which made me shiver and wrap my sweater tighter around myself. I was severely regretting the decision to wear shorts today. I've been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes without a clue what was taking him so long.

Did he ditch me? Is he bored of me already? My constant nagging thoughts wouldn't leave the thought alone. It's not like he had a great track record for disappointing and leaving me hanging without an explanation, so my thoughts weren't completely out there. The thing puzzled me most was why would I even care if he did. I shouldn't.

Any doubts I had were proven to be wrong when I saw him push through the school doors leading out to the parking lot. It was almost comical to watch him stride out the building with watchful eyes noticing his every move. If this were a movie it would definitely have been in slow motion.

"Does every moment of your life have to be so dramatic?" I asked when he finally reached my car and slowly slipped off his sun glasses. His piercing blue eyes met mine and I almost stumbled back a bit. God, those eyes could make a girl melt.

"We are taking my car," was his only response.

"No, I've seen how fast you drive and I would like to survive." I got into the car before he could respond, doing my best to recover from the odd moment I just had.

"Get in!" I yelled out the window when all he did was stand next to the car door.

"Fine," he mumbled, only hesitating slightly as he climbed in.

"Wow, I thought I was going to have to fight you harder on this one."

"Just drive."

"Don't tell me what to do," I said in an equally snappy tone before flashing him a smile. "What took you so long?"

"Mrs. Morgan found me. I have detention tomorrow."

I laughed at him as I pulled out of the school parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a small smile playing at his lips as he watched me. I decided not to comment on it.

"What are you laughing about? This is your fault."

"My fault?" I gasped. "You just couldn't wait, literately, five minutes to see me."

"I needed to know the details and you didn't come find me after your little practice."

"I didn't know I had to report to you immediately Mr. Salvatore. I'm sorry your detention isn't worth it, because it definitely was not Katherine that night."

"What makes you so sure it's not her?" I glanced in his direction to still see the hope in his eyes. He really wanted it to be her. That was just another reason to keep my secret. There was no comparison between Katherine and me. If that's the girl he wants, well, it's never going to be me.

"She told me she doesn't date but she finds you…attractive," I said hesitantly, realizing it sounded like it caused me pain to say the words. "So if you really want to hop on that train, I guess you can." I had to look away once I saw he was actually thinking over the option.

What about me?

I nearly swerved off the road when I processed that thought. I should never be thinking that. Where did it even come from?

"Are you okay? You seem tense." He nodded towards my hands that were squeezing the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles were turning white.

"Yea, I'm fine," I said as I loosened my grip. Okay, so maybe I liked the attention even though it wasn't exactly centered on me. That's reasonable. I mean, any girl who hasn't had any positive attention in long time would welcome it, right?

Yes, right.

"We should figure out who's writing you love letters."

"It was only one letter and I'm still not entirely convinced it was for me," I said while rolling my eyes as I turned onto a side street.

"Why do you find it so hard believe someone could fancy you; as creepy as it is?"

"Fancy me?" I laughed at his choice of words. "Anyone who thinks they fancy me is out of their minds."

"Most girls would be extremely giddy about that pathetic excuse of a love letter. They all want someone to take care of them and protect them,"

"I'm not most girls. They're all depending on someone to come in and sweep them off their feet."

"And you don't want that?"

"We're a lot alike Damon," I looked in his direction to see him deep in thought.

"So you don't ever want to be in love?"

"No, the idea doesn't sound appealing to me."

"Why not?"

"Because people die, Damon," I said a little too harshly, getting fed up with his prying. "That's not something I ever want to go through again," I added softly.

"I get it. People die, people leave; we all have our reasons," he whispered, filling the car with tension.

I opened my mouth to say anything that would lighten the mood but a loud hissing noise coming from my engine stopped me. I flinched in shock and suddenly saw white smoke slowly creeping out under the crevices of the hood of my car.

"Oh my god," I panicked while pulling over. This could not happen to me. If there was anything I didn't need right now, it was to be without a car. My emotions were already heightened after the conversation Damon and I just had, it didn't help that my thoughts instantly flew to how the first person I needed to call was my dad; he'd know what to do.

The thought alone almost killed me as I popped the hood and rushed out of the car. When I got a good look at it, I realized it wasn't smoke but steam that was flowing out.

"Oh, no, no, no," muttering as I opened the hood I frantically looked for something to do that would fix it. The tightness in my chest wasn't going away and it made me more distressed.

"Don't touch-" I blocked Damon out and reached for the radiator cap that the steam was coming from. Before my body could react to the scalding heat, Damon furiously shoved me away from the car.

"Don't you ever listen?" He shouted at me as I clutched my slightly burnt hand. "Do you not know how badly you could've burned yourself?"

"I just-I don't know." I let out a frustrated grunt and ran my good hand through my hair. I resisted the urge to kick my tire but dropped down to the dirty asphalt and leaned my back against my still warm car. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and tried to concentrate on anything but the tears that have been on the edge of falling.

"Your radiator is leaking. I told you we should have driven my car." I heard Damon laugh above me. I looked up to watch him look over the car and then pull out his cell phone to start typing something. He glanced down at me and our eyes connected, any trace of humor left his face as he slowly slid down next to me.

"I didn't see you were crying,"

"I didn't know I was." Shocked, I instantly wiped the tears I didn't know had fallen away.

We sat there in silence. He clearly didn't know what to say. I bet most situations he had with girls crying, he was the reason for their tears.

I watched as he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back against the car as well. Holding onto my burnt hand tightly I rested my arms on top of my knees that I had brought up against my chest.

"My first instinct was that I needed my dad," I said softly, feeling like I owed him an explanation. "There are times when it just hits me. It's like I forget for a moment and suddenly I can breathe again but the second it all comes flooding back in, I'm suddenly being suffocated."

I couldn't find any other words that could rightfully explain it. But when it hit, it hit with full force and there's nothing I can do to stop from toppling over the edge. I was grateful that instead of searching for non-existent words that could somehow take away the pain, he settled with, "How's your hand?"

"It will be fine, hurts a little." Without saying a word, he stood up and disappeared for a quick moment before returning with a water bottle in his hands and resuming his previous place.

"You know, if you would have just listened to me this could have been avoided," he lectured as he unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and grabbed my hand. I resisted the urge to moan at the sudden relief the water gave when it hit my hand. "This should be your lessoned learned."

"What? To always listen to you because you're always right?" I asked with a slight giggle.

"Exactly," he said with a smirk as he poured the rest of the water on my hand. The water made a puddle between us which served as a barrier. "I texted Stefan and he's going to check our house to see if we have any pepper or eggs. That'll clog the leak long enough for you to get your car to a mechanic." I decided not to ask about the pepper or eggs. Clearly he knew more about cars than I did.

"Thank you, for everything. I can be a mess sometimes."

"It's what I do best: coming into the rescue."

"Why do you make this so hard on me?"

"What?"

"Hating you, it used to be a lot easier when we didn't talk." I didn't notice until right now that my burnt hand was still lying in his. I slowly attempted to pull my hand away but his wrapped around mine, keeping it there.

"You don't hate me," he said, like it was obvious. I stared at him for a long moment, trying to decipher if I should actually spell it out for him.

"You're right, I don't, but I should."

"Why?" The look on his face showed that he was annoyed with me. It was tense between us again, which seemed to be becoming a pattern.

"You didn't even come to their funeral." I whispered and suddenly he dropped my hand. "I know that I did something to push you away. I just thought…" I couldn't finish my words and his reaction was confusing when he balled his fists and looked away from me. He was angry.

"Is that really what you've thought? That you did something and that's why I couldn't bring myself to come to their funeral?" He asked, barely showing any emotion anymore. He brought one knee up and rested his forearm on it as he slowly unclenched his fist, his eyes never left the ground.

"What am I supposed to think Damon? We were inseparable and then you just ignored me. You never even gave me a second glance. We were best friends, I cared about you and I thought you cared about me too."

There was silence between is for what felt like several minutes but was probably only a few seconds. He didn't even react to my words. His eyes still rested on the ground near his shoes and I wanted scream at him. Didn't he get it? I had every right to hate him. And I had every right to be mad that he had enough power over me to make hating him impossible.

"It was a Tuesday when I decided I was never going to speak to you again." I swallowed at his words and looked at him in shock. He was really doing this. His hand went up to rub the nape of his neck as he recalled the memory.

"I spent my whole summer just waiting, waiting for my mom to show up. I'd sit on the stairs leading up to our door and just watch. I had some plan in my head that when she finally came, begging for us to take her back, I'd tell her off; tell her how much I fucking hated her for leaving.

"But that day never came and all my time was spent watching the world around me as it went on like nothing had happened. I watched you, and your family. And as the time ticked by my loathing for your flawless life grew and grew. I couldn't look at your perfectly cut grass, your family barbecue's, your stupid swing set in your backyard, without getting so angry. "

"I never knew that's how you felt."

"When your parents died, it tore me up. Don't think for one second that I didn't care. I couldn't look at you afterwards. I couldn't go to their funeral. I was too sick with guilt and I figured… I figured you wouldn't want to see me there anyway."

"I desperately searched for you." His head shot up and for the first time since he started talking, his eyes met mine. His words served as an apology that I was still trying to determine if I accepted. I would never be able to relate to Damon's type of pain. I could only relate to pain itself and its ramifications. And in some form or another, I got it. I understand what it is like to push people away. Hypocritical or not, understanding it and forgiving it are two different things.

"Why?"

"I guess there are still times I find myself needing you," I sighed while looking away, not daring to see his reaction to my words.

Before any other heart filled words and confessions could be made, a red Porsche sped down the street and screeched to a stop in front of us. Boys and their driving... I watched as Stefan, Damon's brother, leapt out of the car and slipped off his ray bans. I took a deep breath. There is definitely something that runs in that family.

"Do you have any cousins?" I asked Damon as I watched Stefan and one of the Mikaelson brothers walk towards us. What was his name again?

"No, you already knew that."

"It's a shame," I mumbled while following Damon's lead and got up off the ground.

"I only could find two eggs," Stefan shoved the practically empty egg carton into Damon's hands.

"If you need more my house is right down the road."

"No, it's alright Klaus. This is plenty." Klaus! How could I forget a name like Klaus? All the memories of girl talk about whether or not Stefan and Klaus ever crossed the line of friendship, flooded back into my head. They were very close.

"Now I hope you're happy, that was a main ingredient for tonight's dinner," Stefan teased me with a grin.

"Don't listen to him. It's been years since we've actually ever had food in the house let a lone a home cooked meal." Damon slapped Stefan upside the head and shoved him towards my car. I couldn't help but laugh at the familiar sight I used to see on a regular basis.

"So," Klaus muttered when Damon and Stefan left us alone in the street as they fixed my car.

"So…" I repeated.

"Now, don't do an Elena and almost burn your face off," I heard Damon tell Stefan. I immediately turned in their direction, away from Klaus, to scowl at him. He was already smirking at me, knowing I'd hear his comment.

"I'm happy to see you're a cheerleader again," I heard Klaus say. I turned back to him and flashed him a confused look "Oh dear, that sounded disturbing, didn't it?"

I forced a laugh with a slight nod.

"Damon, uh, he told me you're back on the squad," he said awkwardly and his gaze on me faltered. He was intently starring at his shoes now. I didn't know Klaus, but what I could tell from all the Mikaelson's, they were never this awkward, especially not him. Oh, no, it's not him. It's me. I'm the reason it's uncomfortable.

"I'm not. I'm just helping them out a bit."

"Oh." My mind was screaming at Damon to come save me.

"Alright, the only place you car is to go is home and then straight to a mechanic. Got it?" Damon lectured me while wiping his hand off on a rag that Stefan tossed him.

"Yes sir." I nearly saluted.

"Thanks you guys, for all your help."

"No problem," Klaus was the first to answer.

"Stefan's going to take me back to my car at the school. Are you going to be okay driving home?"

"I'll be fine," I told Damon but my eyes were watching Klaus walk with Stefan back to his car. "Why did you tell Klaus I'm cheerleading again."

"I didn't." He looked at me confused.

"I guess I'll just have to go get my dress a different day," I quickly changed the subject.

"Preferably with Caroline," He added.

When I got home the house was quiet. I hated the quiet. It gave our house an abandoned feeling which was not welcomed by me. I knew Jeremy was home when I saw his cell phone on the kitchen counter. I immediately put myself to work and began making dinner. It was easy to get my mind off things this way.

I looked out my kitchen window as I poured the sauce I made onto the noodles and started to mix them together. Damon's car was now in the drive way and a light on in the living room could be seen. I wonder what he's doing.

"Jeremy, dinner is ready."

"Put some in the fridge for me," I saw him come down the stairs and pull a sweatshirt over his head as he went for his phone on the counter.

"You're leaving?" I frowned. "But… but I made you dinner." I glanced down towards the pasta that was already too much for two people and suddenly got depressed over the fact that it would only be for one.

"I'll eat when I get home."

"Don't be out late!" I shouted after him, only to receive a dismissive wave as he went for the door. "I love you," I whispered as the door slammed.

"Well, now what am I going to do?" I asked myself as I stared at the huge bowl of pasta in front of me.

Without thinking over the decision long enough to second guess it, I picked up the bowl and started heading out the door.

"Elena?" Jeremy was still in the driveway when I passed him, walking over the grass towards Damon's yard.

"Have fun," I yelled over my shoulder as I made my way to the front steps of Damon house, still feeling Jeremy's bewildered gaze on me.

My second guessing came the moment my hand reached up to knock on the huge door. My hand stayed there, raised for seconds before I gave in. It was only a few moments before the door opened to a confused Damon.

"Elena?" He used the same baffled town as Jeremy. It feels like that's the only way people say my name anymore.

"You said something about not having a homemade meal in a long time and I thought…. I don't know what I thought." My eyes that were glued to the pasta flickered towards Damon. "Just, ugh, do you want to have dinner with me? It would be a lot better than eating alone… again."

All in that moment it was a silent apology on my part and a sign that I forgave him.

It only took a second before he was ushering me inside.

AN: Sorry! My laptop is stupid and I haven't been able to use it. Hopefully I'll be able to find a way to update sooner! Tell me what you think:)