The day after Elena's visit, Damon told Giuseppe about the spring play and about not really having time for it but agreeing only because it meant spending time with Elena. "It's like I'm a dog, and she has just thrown me a bone," he told his father.
Giuseppe said, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." Which was completely irrelevant, as were his next life-lesson analogies all related to dogs. Then went on to tell Damon about Rusty, the German Shepard he had growing up. When Giuseppe had done, Damon just stare at him. "Sorry," his father chuckled, "Kind of went off on a tangent there, huh?"
"Just a tad."
"So what are you going to do?" Giuseppe asked.
Damon rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling the stress from the added workload that hadn't even started yet.
"I have an idea," Giuseppe told him. "It will be good. Trust me."
Giuseppe's idea wasn't just good. It was great. Brilliant, even.
He made Stefan did it, too. School spirit and all.
Damon did his part and got Mason in on it, too. "Just think of the girls, Mason. They change into costumes right there in the open." They didn't, he just lied to Mason.
It had been three weeks now and Mason, Stefan and Damon had found a rhythm and they worked well together.
Between building for the set, track meets, training, family, Damon barely had time to breathe, but Elena was right. He was great at it, and he and Elena did get to spend a lot of time together.
Old times had become now times and small talk was purely conversation. Even when it came to Matt. "You heading to University of Virginia this weekend or is Matt coming home?" he asked, sitting opposite her, their legs crossed, making flowers out of tissue paper and wire. Hers looked like they belonged in a museum. Meanwhile, Mason and Stefan attempted to piece together the set for the infamous balcony scene.
"I'm not sure," she mumbled, looking at the time.
Damon looked at the time, too. It was 4:48 on a Thursday afternoon and his crew, she, and he were the only ones left in the drama room. Miss Brown, the drama teacher, should be here, too. But she was busy sorting out the costumes. "Are you waiting for him to call?" he pushed.
Elena shrugged and focused on the flower that was already done. She didn't really talk much about Matt anymore, at least not to Damon, and whether that was a conscious decision she had made or the hype of Matt had worn off, Damon was not sure.
"You guys are still together, right?" he tried, digging for more information.
"Yeah," she said quickly. "We are still together. It is just hard…you know…" She glanced up at him to search for a reaction.
She wouldn't see anything. No anger. No spite. Hell, it took Ben and Felicity what literally felt like an eternity to finally get their shit together. Four seasons and one abrupt ending and Damon still didn't have closure. But he did learn that his best tactic was to wait. And so waiting was what he was doing. Plus, Lillian was a big believer in fate. If it was meant to be, it would happen. Eventually.
"Are you missing him?" he asked.
She cleared her throat, looked up at him, her eyes glazed.
Damn. "Did I say something?"
Her head moved, side to side, slowly, slowly. "There's so much I want to tell you," she breathed. "But it is…"
He shuffled closer, placed his hands on her knees. "It is what, Elena?"
She swallowed before she looked away. "It's…"
He heard footsteps approaching, but he was too focused, too addicted to turn to the sound. "Elena?" he pushed, squeezing her knees.
"Elena?"
Her eyes were huge, her breath caught in her throat while Matt stood above Damon like an angry giant, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Get your hands off my girlfriend, Salvatore."
Elena pushed Damon's hands away. "I didn't know… you didn't say…" She stumbled to her feet and stood between Damon and Matt, her hands on Matt's chest, protecting Damon. "Let's go, Matt."
Damon didn't need her protection and he stood, his chest out, shoulders square and looked down on Matt. "We are just friends, asshole!"
"You touch all your friends like that?" Matt growled, his words echoing through the room.
Mason and Stefan heard the noise and came running. Stefan got between Damon and Matt. "Leave it alone, man," he said to his brother, his tone calm. He should be Leonardo, the ninja turtle. The smart, tranquil, leader of the brotherhood.
"What the hell is going on?" Mason snapped.
Elena tugged on Matt's arm, forcing him towards the door.
Damon waited three hours and forty-six minutes to text Elena from Stefan's phone.
Stefan: I hope you are okay. Are we still on to finish up the set tomorrow afternoon? DE
That was what their friendship had become, sneaking in text messages and signing off in code (DE = Delena) to settle her boyfriend's jealousy and keep the peace with them.
It took Elena nine minutes to respond.
Elena: I'm fine. I shouldn't have let Damon touch me like that. I know that now. I will see you tomorrow at 3 pm. Great job, today! Thanks for everything, Stefan.
Damon gave Stefan back his phone and didn't bother with a reply, because what the hell, Elena?
She didn't show the next day.
She didn't call, didn't text, didn't email.
She was not at school Monday, so he made contact with her.
Stefan" You sick or something? Need me to come around? - DE.
Elena: No. I'm not home. I won't be at school for a couple of days, but I'm okay. Thanks for checking in, Stefan.
It was not just a couple of days Elena was off school. It was an entire week. Damon called John to ask how she was and John told him that she got a horrible flu when she was at University of Virginia over the weekend. She was so sick that she can't even come home. She was holed up in his dorm room but it was fine, because Matt was there and he was taking care of her.
Damon wondered if John knew about New Year's Eve and the houseboat and Matt's lack of taking care of her then—one night. How the hell Matt had taken care of her for an entire week?
If Damon didn't have to finish those sets and compete in a race, he would be in his truck, driving to University of Virginia, punching Matt in the face and throwing Elena over his shoulder to take her home. She would sit in his place and he would take care of her. Soup, meds and back rubs. He would nurse her back to health and she would call him her hero and she would dump Matt.
But, he did have to do all those things, and he couldn't even call her to see how she was because Matt still had him blocked.
Monday rolled around, opening night, and everyone involved in the play, including Miss Brown, was going out of their ever-loving minds because the costumes! Where the hell were the costumes? Damon began to panic as much as everyone else because now he felt like he was part of this insanity called The Spring Play, and dammit, he worked hard for it. In the afternoon, Stefan tried calling Elena. Mason tried calling Elena. Even Damon tried calling Elena—it didn't even ring.
Then Sarah said "You know, maybe Matt is one of those crazy cats who's, like, stupid obsessed with our little Elena, and he has got her hidden in a dungeon or something. She probably loves him because of that…what's it called? You know that thing…" She clicked her fingers while Damon's brain throbbed. "When the captured fall for their captor?"
"Stockholm syndrome," Stefan told him.
"Nonsense," Mason said.
"Or you know," Sarah continued, and Damon wished she could shut up. "Maybe he's that in love with her he killed her and then himself, like this here,"—she raised a finger, spined it in circles—"Romero and Juliet."
"Just shut up, Sarah," Stefan warned.
But for some unknown reasons, Damon actually believed (for a second) that Sarah could be right.
"Costumes are here!" Miss Brown shouted, and Damon practically sprinted over to her.
"Where is Elena?"
"Who?"
There were people everywhere now, trying to find their costumes amongst the pile in her arms.
"Elena!" Where is Elena?"
"She just dropped these off. She has gone back home. She must really not be feeling well."
Damon told the boys he was out and put Stefan in charge, then wasted nineteen seconds arguing with Mason about why he was not in charge simply because he was older than Stefan.
Luckily, Sarah interrupted. "Get over it, Mason. Let Damon find his Juliet."
Damon made his escape while Sarah and Mason went toe-to-toe, and he got in his car and he thought about Elena. He only cared about her right now.
He parked in Elena's driveway and went right to the basement door. The outside light wasn't on, but he didn't expect it to be because he hadn't knocked on it since September 25th.
There was no answer, so he moved to the front door. Again, no answer. He went around the house looking through all the windows, but there didn't seem to be anyone home. Elena's car was here, but John wasn't. Maybe he took her to the hospital or something. Maybe it was more than just a horrible flu.
He called John. John said he was at Jules's place and they were getting ready to see the play. He didn't know where Elena was. She was not answering her phone.
Damon pictured Elena in a dungeon.
He pictured Elena dead in a dungeon with dead Matt next to her.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Then his phone rang.
It was Giuseppe.
His father told him he should come home because Elena wasn't in a dungeon. She was not dead. She was sitting on his apartment stairs.
Damon was out of breath when he got to her and it was not because he was unfit, it was because he was worried. He picked her up off the stairs and held her tight, and she winced in pain.
"What's with you?" Elena asked when Damon put her back down.
"Dungeons and Stockholm and Romero."
Her eyes widened. "What?!"
Damon took a calming breath. "Sarah"
She raised her hand between them. "Say no more."
The second they were in his apartment, she looked over at the empty kitchen sink. "No dishes?"
Damon shook his head. "No dishes." Then he took her hand and led her over to the couch. "Sit," he ordered.
Elena sat.
He went to the kitchen, took out the canned chicken soup, poured it into a pot and switched on the stove. Then he got a microwavable heating pad from his room and threw it in the microwave, waited for one minute, took it out, stirred the pot, went to Elena, and placed the heating pad on her back where he knew she liked to be rubbed. "What are you doing, Damon?" she asked.
He shrugged. "You are sick."
"And you are sweet," she said.
He got the soup, put it in a bowl, and watched her eat the soup. After she put the empty bowl down on the coffee table, she said, "You know why I always do your dishes when I walk in?"
She was gone a week, and Damon missed her voice and her hair and her eyes and her coconuts, lime and Elena. "Why?"
"Because I never know what to do when I walk in here, so I do the dishes and you either sit on the couch and turn on the TV or you sit on the floor and do your homework, and once you are settled, I follow your lead."
"Really?" he asked.
She smiled. "Really."
"And what would happen if I went to my bedroom and stripped naked?"
She laughed and he laughed, too.
Damon pulled her feet on his lap and noticed what she was wearing for the first time. Baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and it was not even cold outside. "How long were you waiting for me and did you walk here?"
"Not long and yes, why?"
"Because you are all bundled up. Are you cold? You want me to turn the heat up?"
She poked his leg with her feet, and he started rubbing them through her socks.
Her head tilted back on the arm of the couch, and her eyes were closed, and and she murmured, "I have to tell you something."
"Okay."
"I broke up with Matt."
Elena broke up with Matt...I'm sure you guys/gals must be happy now, LOL! Well, personally I don't think her relationship with Matt will ever work. Deep inside her heart, Damon is always there. I know a lot of you aren't a fans of Elena at the moment because of her actions. When you are 18, you think you are all grown up but in a way, you are still immature. And that's why these 2 young people mess up everything...even older adult like me can mess things up, LOL!
Anyway, thanks for all the support and kind reviews!