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ELENA


One benefit of a school so small?

It's taking me no time whatsoever to figure out where everything is.

Finding my locker took less effort than I'd expected, though what else I didn't expect was to see Damon Salvatore leaning against it.

I guess a downside to a school this small is that anyone can figure out where anything is.e

"Hey, new girl," Damon smiles at me, and I try not to notice how good he looks.

That dark leather jacket fits him like a glove, and the navy colored T-shirt he wears brings out the blue of his eyes in a way that makes it hard to look away from them.

Oh, who am I kidding?

I blatantly check him out, and he returns the favor, that gaze roaming over me twice before his smile broadens.

"Nice shirt," he praises, "But you've gotta stop trying so hard to get my attention."

I roll my eyes good naturedly and shove him away from my locker, "I have breasts; so I don't have to try very hard at all."

He chuckles easily and leans against the locker next to mine as I work the dial code and pop the lock free.

"Mind if I walk you to class?" he offers and I arch a brow in his direction, "What? One ride together and suddenly chivalry rises from its cold dead grave?"

Another heartstopping smirk, "Just offering some small town hospitality."

I grab my second and third period books before closing the locker door, "Hospitality, huh? Do you offer the same to all new students?"

He shrugs, "Sure, when they look as good as you do in a Metallica T-shirt."

I laugh and shake my head, "Okay, Casanova. We're gonna be late."

"You are new," he reminds me as we start down the hallway toward my homeroom, "So you get a pass."

"I also got detention yesterday," I point out, "So it's probably in my best interest to be extra punctual today."

"Fair enough," he admits.


I notice that the halls are a lot easier to maneuver through with Damon at my side.

The other students seem to part as we walk by, clearing the way, and I wonder if it has anything to do with Damon's association with the Brotherhood of Crows.

He doesn't wear a kutte, so it's hard to be sure, but it would seem that being the president's kid would merit some kind of reaction.

It certainly had for me at St. Andrews.

"You have Mrs. Davis for homeroom, right?" Damon asks as we approach the line of classrooms.

I nod, "Yeah. I think that's her name. Bonnie is in the class with me."

"Which means Caroline Forbes is too," he glances over toward the room, "Good. Stick with them today, okay?"

I pause, looking up at him questioningly.

"Small school," he reminds me "And you're an interesting topic. I'm sure the rumor mill about yesterday is already spreading, and no one controls gossip like Caroline. She and Bonnie will make sure nobody gives you shit."

"Thanks," I tell him, "But I am capable of taking care of myself, you know."

"Oh, I know," he smiles at me, before reaching out to finger a strand of my hair that had fallen forward.

He pushes it back behind my ear and his fingertips brush against my skin.

The simple gesture causes a flash of heat to color my cheeks, and I clear my throat, "Uh, thanks anyway...for walking me. But I should probably go inside."

He nods, "Good idea. I guess I'll see you in History...if you can manage not to get detention before then."

He winks before walking away and I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at his retreating backside.


Homeroom passes quickly.

Caroline and Bonnie are both sitting exactly where they had been yesterday, and as Damon predicted, Caroline had heard everything that everyone was saying about my run in with Kai Parker.

At least the general consensus thought he deserved what he got, Caroline included.

"It's about time somebody shut him up," she huffs, flipping blonde curls over her shoulder, "And thank God he finally got suspended! It's hard to get any work done in Bio-Chem with his ego sucking up all the oxygen in the room!"

I laugh as Bonnie nods her agreement, then shortly the bell is ringing and we are dismissed, parting ways in the hall.


Next is my art elective, and I'm surprised to see a familiar face when I enter the room; Damon's friend, Enzo.

He spots me, and waves me over to the seat next to him at the long table.

Like Damon, he sports a leather jacket, but it doesn't carry the same effect on him.

"I didn't know you were in this class," I say to him as I sit, and he smiles at me, "Because yesterday you sat in the front row and doodled in your notebook the entire period."

He has me there.

"Because we were reviewing the reformation of the Renaissance Period and its effect on modern work. Not exactly the most thrilling topic," I point out, and he inclines his head in agreement as he pulls a pencil out of thin air.

"It's not," he twirls the pencil around his finger, "But it is something we'll quiz over."

"Great," I grumble, and he chuckles.

"Don't worry, new girl. I'll let you copy."

I narrow my eyes at him, "And how do I know you'll have the right answers?"

He grins, "Bonnie likes you, and I don't fancy being in the doghouse for making her new friend fail in Art."

I smile a little at the word friend, not realizing how nice it was to hear it, or to actually believe that it might be true, until it had left his mouth.

I'm actually making friends.

The concept was as foreign as it was exciting.


Enzo walked with me to Pre-Cal after our art class ended, keeping up an easy conversation about his motorcycle, a topic we'd eventually stumbled on between the droning of post-Renaissance and free sketch.

His Sportster was his pride and joy; a present he received from his father, who I discovered is the Brotherhood's Road Captain, after he patched in.

Apparently there was an age requirement of eighteen to join the Brotherhood.

Enzo, who had spent most of his life growing up with the club, had a relatively short prospect period, and was now an established member; the youngest currently in.

Damon was supposed to start Prospecting after his birthday too, apparently, but according to Enzo, his mother had laid down some rules about graduating first.

"So, naturally, he's pissed at me," Enzo smirks as we continue down the hall, "Which, of course, means I have to rub it in every chance I get."

"Of course," I smile, and spot Bonnie by the lockers.

"There's my girl!" Enzo calls out, loud enough that a few people around us turn, Bonnie included.

She shoots him a glare, but a sliver of a grin plays on her lips.

She closes her locker and joins us.

"Subtle," Bonnie scolds him, but Enzo hardly pays attention as he wraps an arm over her shoulders.

Leaning around him, she tosses me a look, "Next time, you can leave him wherever you found him."

I laugh as Enzo mutters a quiet, "Rude."

"Actually, we had last period together," I say, "He was being nice and walking with me to class."

"She has Pre-Cal with you next, right?" he asks her, and Bonnie nods, "Yeah, which is good because I need someone to partner with for study group. Our Benchmark is coming up next week, and I am so not ready. Wanna help?"

Her expression is pouting and I smirk, "Not sure how much help I'll be, but I'll try."

She returns the smile as we reach our room.

"I'll find you ladies at lunch," Enzo tells us, kissing Bonnie quickly on the cheek, "Assuming nobody gets detention before then."

I glare mockingly at him, "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Never," he and Bonnie both answer, and I groan.

"Great."


I'm excited when math is finally over, though I don't fully understand why until I make my way to Alaric Saltzman's history class, and remember that this is the class I share with Damon.

I scan the room when I walk in, hoping to see him, but aside from a few early arrivals, the desks are empty.

Damn.

"Looking for me?"

That warm voice makes me jump as it tickles my ear, and I spin around to see Damon smiling down at me.

"Kai, actually," I control the fluster in my voice, "I thought he might be up for round two."

Damon laughs, and the sound melts me, "Sorry, Rocky. I think your opponent was one and done."

"Damn," I pretend to be sad about the fact, "There goes the outlet for channelling my frustration."

Damon's expression turns to one of pure innuendo, "Don't worry, babe. There are plenty of other ways to channel frustrations."

I can imagine what he is hinting toward, and even though I know he's teasing, I take a step closer to him, "I doubt you could keep up."

His brow lifts slightly, as if surprised by my comment.

"Is that a challenge, Miss Gilbert?"

I shrug noncommittally and turn to find my seat, unable to stop the small smirk on my face.

Damon follows behind me, taking the desk beside mine as the teacher walks in.

Thankfully Mr. Saltzman says nothing about yesterday's incident after reading off the attendance, and I relax into my seat as the lecture begins.


A minute later, there's a note on my desk.

I shoot Damon a look, but he's staring straight ahead, like he didn't just flick a folded paper at me as if we were in middle school.

Half annoyed, half amused, I humor him and unfold the thing.

- Do you have plans this weekend?

I smirk and discreetly pull a pen out of my bag to answer him.

- Depends on your follow up question.

I pass the paper back and there's a hint of a smile on his lips as he reads it.

His response is quick.

- A group of us usually hang out, get food, catch a movie or something. Thought you might be interested.

I'm not sure what to make of that, so I answer him honestly.

- Maybe. I was planning on some job hunting, though.

His eyebrows pull together at my words. He writes fast and passes the note back.

- You need a job?

Well duh, that would be the point of job hunting wouldn't it? I almost write that as a response, but decide to play nice, since his eyes are darting over to me.

- I need a car. Job = Money = Car.

Again, he answers quickly.

- What kind of job are you looking for?

I smirk.

- Why? Are you hiring?

He shakes his head at me, then writes.

- Parents might be. I can ask, if you want.

I blink and reread the words. Was it really that easy?

I recalled that his mom owned a restaurant, and I had some experience with waitressing.

And his dad…

- I don't know. I'm not really much of an auto mechanic.

He chuckles out loud when he reads the note, and dropping the pretense, leans over to my seat.

We are far enough in the back that Mr. Saltzman pays us no mind.

"Smart ass," Damon speaks quietly, "But actually, I was thinking that Mom has been looking for help at the restaurant, and if Dad is hiring, it'll be for a receptionist or secretary type thing. Someone to file the paperwork and answer the phone."

That didn't sound too bad.

"Well in that case, yes," I whisper back, "Please, ask them."

He winks at me, before focusing back on the board Mr. Saltzman was now writing on, and I take a minute to appreciate how gorgeous Damon really is.

Even his side profile is perfection.

He smiles slowly after a moment, as if feeling my gaze on him, and his eyes flicker over to me.

I look straight, pretending that I hadn't just gotten caught, and can't help but think that maybe his eyes too, linger on me for a minute longer than necessary.


We leave school for lunch, at the groups insistence that Lily Salvatore's deep pan pizza sounds a million times better than the tuna salad being served in the cafeteria.

Damon points out that it would be a good chance to see if his Mom maybe is hiring, and as excited as I am about the prospect of having my own money, I can't help but wonder if I'm pressing my luck by wandering about town during school hours without permission.

Miranda had mentioned boundaries, after all.

But Bonnie and Caroline are coming along as well, so I convince myself that it's no big deal.

Even when Damon leads me over to his bike and offers me his helmet.

I can't help but smile as I pull the hair tie I always carry, a habit every biker girl picks up at some point, off of my wrist.

I throw my hair into a low ponytail and take the helmet from Damon, securing it in place.

He appraises me, then, after a moment of consideration, takes off his jacket and hands it to me too.

"I don't need-"

"I'm not taking any risks," he tells me, draping the leather over my shoulders, "On the off chance we take a spill, I don't want you getting hurt."

I consider reminding him that yesterday he assured me he was a good driver, but decided to just accept his gift, and slide my arms into the jacket sleeves.

It's warm, and smells like him.

Then Damon mounts the bike, and let me use his shoulders to do the same, sliding into place behind him.


Just like before, the feeling of something so familiar spread an odd happiness through my body and when Damon kick starts the engine, goosebumps erupt along my arms.

Arms that I then wrap around his waist, holding on tightly as he motions to Enzo and another guy, Tyler, who were starting their own bikes with Bonnie and Caroline riding passenger.

A quick thumbs up to signal they are good to go, and we're off.

I let myself get lost in the moment as Damon picks up speed, the others falling into line behind him, and my eyes close.

The purr of the bike, the vibrations running through me...it will always feel like home.

I rest my head against the broad span of Damon's back and soak up the feeling for as long as I can.


The ride ended sooner than I would have liked, but the smell coming from the cute little corner bistro, Lily's Casa d'Italia, is enough to convince my stomach that better things await.

"This is nice," I comment as I climb off of Damon's bike, and remove the helmet.

"Just wait until you try the food," Tyler tells me as he bounds up the steps with Caroline right behind him.

"It is pretty amazing," Bonnie agrees, wrapping her arm around Enzo's waist as they join us.

When they walk toward the door, I notice that, like me, she is wearing an oversized leather jacket.

The reminder has me shrugging Damon's off, "Here. I almost forgot."

"Keep it for the return trip," he stops me, pulling the material back over my shoulders, "Besides, it looks better on you anyway."

I'm not entirely sure that's true, but the part of me that wants to keep wearing the jacket keeps that comment locked up tight.

Instead, I thank him, and he smiles.

Then his hand is on the small of my back, leading me up the stairs after the others and I like the way it feels maybe just a little too much.


Some flirty DE and a job opportunity...

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