Games People Play
"Oh, honey, don't think about him. They tell me he plays women just like he plays poker. Riffle, shuffle, fast cut, big deal, the sky's the limit; and then all of a sudden you're lying there in the discard."
Dalton Girls (1957)
. . .
February 8, 1957 (Friday)
Amber shows up almost thirty minutes late to cheer practice and there's something different about her. I can tell that she's been crying. Sure, we're more than acquaintances and I'd consider us genuinely friends, but I don't think we've ever confided in each other about anything too serious. Still, I would regret not reaching out to her if I don't.
Damn, I wish Caroline were here. Unfortunately, she's stuck at home with the Chicken Pox. The poor girl. She's locked in her room and miserable. I'd be miserable too if my perfect complexion had to suffer from such a horror. Thankfully, I've already had it; ah the joys of having an older sibling. So without Caroline by my side, it's all up to me to say the right things. Oh, dear - not that I have a problem talking to people. It's just that I become too emotionally attached when I know someone has a problem. It's my greatest weakness, that's why a long time ago I cut my inner circle down so I'd have less chance of being vulnerable and so far that's worked out for me.
After running through the last routine, I dismiss the girls, but tell Amber to stay behind.
"Hey-" I begin, but she cuts me off instantly.
"I'm so sorry for being late. It won't happen again," she rushes out, biting her lip. She looks a little afraid of me. She's probably worried that I am going to kick her off the team, but I won't. That's more of a Caroline thing to do.
"It's okay, things happen sometimes." I say smoothly. She seems relieved that I'm not scolding her.
"But are you alright?" I ask concerned.
"I'm fine," she says with a smile that's way too excited. I know she's hiding something. I'm pretty good at reading fake expressions.
"I noticed that you were a little behind on the routines..."
She cuts me off again. "Oh, was I? I'm so sorry, Elena. I swear that I'll practice some more at home... but I've really got to get going."
"Amber, wait," I say grabbing onto her arm and she flinches as if I've hurt her in some way.
"Amber?" I ask confused, looking down at my hand on her arm and let her go.
"I'm fine, Elena. Now if you're not going to kick me off the team, I really do need to get going. It's getting pretty late and I still have to finish baking."
"Hey, why don't I come over and help you bake?" I suggest instantly and say it in a way that she can't resist. Everyone in school knows what happens when you defy me because of my popularity. I don't usually take advantage of the fact, but my influence does come in handy sometimes.
"Oh, I, I mean..." she stammers.
"Come on, Amber it will be fun! And I'm sure we'll have our baskets done faster if we do it together."
"You haven't finished yours?" she asks suspiciously and a little surprised.
"No... No... I've been really busy. I had a big math test and stuff to do at home," I fib. Of course, I have my basket done, but I see this as an opportunity to find out what's really wrong with her.
"Um, okay. Sure. But we'll need to stop by the grocery store first," she reluctantly agrees.
"Yeah, totally," I agree. "Let's go now before it closes."
Tomorrow is the annual Sweetheart Fundraiser that the varsity cheerleaders organize every year for the football team's expenses at away games. Everyone is going to get together at the monthly town hall meeting and the guys in town will get to bid on the baskets, but they don't know which baskets belong to which cheerleaders. At the end of the bidding, they find out which cheerleader they won and get to eat with her on Sunday in the school gymnasium. It's still too cold to have a real picnic outside, so it's a bit ridiculous why tradition mandates us to always have the fundraiser in February. Last year the cheer team raised over $1,000, it was a total hit! I didn't have to go to lunch with anyone though because I was on the JV team and only varsity girls get to make baskets.
At the grocery store, Amber seems to be more like herself. She is a lot less on edge now. Maybe I wasn't right, maybe there hadn't been anything wrong with her. Well, her eyes had looked really red as if she'd been crying.
Ultimately, we decide on buying the larger bag of flour so if we completely screw up, then we'll still have plenty of supplies to work from. The only problem with wanting to buy the larger bag is that it's really heavy. Too heavy for even the both of us to carry to the register.
"I better just get a cart," I say with resolution. "I'll be right back."
Amber simply nods as I walk away to get the cart.
Just my luck, the stupid carts are stuck together making it impossible to pull it out. This is really pissing me off.
I keep pulling and pulling, but nothing! No one even is coming around to help me. Is anyone working in this place?
I momentarily jump as arms come around me and I turn quickly in surprise to see that it's Elijah! He's practically breathing in my ear.
He isn't actually grabbing onto me, he just walked up close enough to help me with the cart. He pulls it out for me and moves aside.
"There you go," he says in his smarmy tone that I've come to know.
"Elijah," I drawl with my best disinterested look. "Elena," he returns mockingly.
"So how have you been? I haven't seen you since 17's party."
"Busy. You?" I reply with a shrug. Hmm, I hadn't even noticed that the last time I saw him was at Stefan's first victory party at Sacred Heart.
He nods in agreement.
I turn around when I hear Amber calling my name. I must have been wrestling for this stupid cart for longer than I thought.
"Elijah? Right?" she asks him, walking up to us.
"I'm Amber," she introduces herself with a slight glare."
"Yeah, I know," he says dryly. "I've seen you around.
There's an interesting look that's shared between them that I can't describe. Now it feels like they know something I don't know and I really, really don't like that feeling. Gosh, this day sure is backwards.
"Well, we've got to get going," Amber rushes out, nearly overlapping over her words. "We've still got a lot of work to do."
"Yes, of course, the big basket auction," Elijah says smugly.
"You're going?" I almost laugh. It's hard to imagine him at such a cheesy town event.
"I'll be there," he confirms with a mischievous expression that makes me uncomfortable.
"I thought that it was only open to guys from our school," Amber says, looking slightly worried.
"Open to any resident of Mystic Falls under 24," he quotes matter-of-factly. "Hey Elena, so, you must be pretty happy that your greaser can participate?"
"Damon is 22." I say rolling my eyes in annoyance. "You're not... you're not going to try something? I mean, are you?" I ask skeptically, crossing my arms. I know Elijah has a lot of money and the last thing I need him to do is enter a bidding war with my boyfriend. That could totally end badly.
"I don't know what you're referring to," he retorts innocently, which only makes me more suspicious.
"I mean, this isn't like your favor or something... right? To let you win my basket?" I continue with my interrogation.
"No, when I ask for my favor, it won't be a surprise," He scoffs, looking offended.
"Sorry," I say, holding up my hands playfully. "My mistake."
Amber coughs abruptly, not too ladylike I might add. I think it's pretty clear that she isn't too fond of Elijah, but I can't say that I blame her. His entitled attitude can be hard to swallow, especially if you haven't had a proper conversation with him.
"We really need to get going." I nod profusely and take Amber's hand and I almost forget to take the cart with us.
The rest of the evening passed by fairly slow. I just ended up with way too many brownies, eh, maybe Damon will end up sharing them with the rest of the guys at the auto shop.
"Aren't you hot?" I ask while removing my sweater. The oven really makes your skin warn up after standing in front of it for so long.
"Umm." Amber takes a moment to think. "No, I'm okay."
I give her a quizzical look because there's just no way she's not hot. Guess we're back to being weird?
I wish I didn't have such a hard time getting her to open up.
Again, if only Caroline were here...
.
.
.
February 9, 1957 (Saturday)
Well, the big day has finally come. It's time for the basket bidding. All of us cheerleaders are sitting on the stage at the town hall. Our baskets are lined up on a table next to the announcer. Before the bidding, I made sure to describe in excruciating detail what my basket looked like to Damon.
I giggle softly at the idea of Damon attending such a silly town event such as this one. I wonder if he'll be the only greaser here today? Wouldn't that be funny?
Until the bidding starts, I'm incredibly distracted wondering when Damon will get here. They're just about to start the ceremonial music. Carol Lockwood is the announcer this year, which would have been incredibly awkward for Tyler if Caroline were participating, but she's not since she'll be out for at least another week of activities. Here I was thinking that their behind-the-scenes romance was going to come out, but alas not the case. Neither of their families are going to find out today about their relationship.
I sigh deeply staring at the clock and at the door waiting for Damon to get here. Where is he? I mean, of course he's going to come. The idea of me going on a "date" with someone else is crazy. I wouldn't even know what to do if another guy "won" me. It's best not to think about it.
When Carol's much-too-cordial voice comes over the microphone for bidders to take their seats, I begin to squirm in my own. This is not happening! My eyes search desperately around the room and I glare at Elijah. He's sitting in the front row and he actually has the audacity to wave at me! He's waving at me! Ugh. He just told me yesterday that he wouldn't bid on me, so I wonder who he's here for. What does it matter? He can't bid on me because he doesn't know what my basket looks like.
I pry my eyes off him and desperately continue to search the crowd for my boyfriend. The crowd is getting pretty thick. Some people have to stand in the back. If I had any say in this, women just wouldn't be able to attend the basket bidding - period. Like, what are they doing here anyway?
Coming down the main row is a guy I've never seen before and apparently none of the cheerleaders know who he is, either. He looks older like around my brother's age. The reason why all of us notice him is there's something about the way he walks. Okay, and dresses. He dresses Hollywood star good. Did he just wink at us? The whispers erupt in giggles and then I glare as he takes a seat next to Elijah.
Elijah knows this guy? They look close, the way they're talking like they have some big secret. Well, only Mystic Falls residents are allowed to participate, so this is just getting on my nerves. I will myself to turn away from the well-dressed guys in the front row. They want me to pay attention, I just know it. It's a feeling I get from them. When my mother was around, she used to always advise me to follow my "woman's intuition," so that's exactly what I'm going to do.
Dear Lord, the first basket is up and thankfully it's not mine. Mine is the third to last, I believe. I turn to the girls trying to figure out who is up right now, but none of them look nervous. I can't remember what all our baskets look like. I only got a quick glance at everyone's. Oh, well.
The basket turns out to be Blair's. Someone from the swim team won her and she doesn't look too pleased. She is a snob, though, so I can't say I'm that surprised.
The next basket up is Amber's. That one I know easily since I was with her last night. At the sound of the bell for her basket, she's already a nervous wreck. She's biting her nails, making it painfully obvious that it's her basket. Geez, Tina actually notices too and chides her to stop fidgeting at once.
"So much for mystery," Tina scoffs, rolling her eyes. She takes town traditions way too serious for her own good.
Before the bidding is over for Amber, Stefan and Damon walk into the town hall together. A few heads turn in their direction; how embarrassing. I have to say that I'm surprised that the brothers arrived together. Hmm, maybe they're speaking now?
My brows raise, hearing Stefan top the current bidder for Amber's basket. Boy, he moves fast. I mean, from all the way back there, how could he possibly know what's even inside the basket?
As the bids near the $100 mark, I turn to Amber wondering if this is a set up. Does Stefan know it's her basket? He must.
Amber still looks on edge about everything. Seriously, the girl is gonna have a heart attack if she doesn't just cool it.
And with a ring of the bell, Stefan has officially won her basket and with a resounding plop, she slumps in her chair in obvious relief.
Interesting... very interesting... I say with my eyes at Damon. Damon raises a single brow in agreement.
A few baskets later, Stefan and Damon find seats. Seats in separate rows, nonetheless, but they are sitting down now. I'm paying more attention now when I see that my basket is up next. I shoot my boyfriend a quick smirk and he rolls his eyes, which I find very funny for some reason.
It's almost funny how hard Carol is trying to find words to describe my basket. There isn't anything charming about my basket at all because the lid is covering all of its contents. The only major detail to my basket is the oversized satin bow in red, Damon's favorite color. I am wearing a matching dress and Caroline died of joy when she saw it, so I know it's really cute.
At a loss for words, Carol simply decides to say that the owner of the basket must have put have a lot of love and care into its contents. When the bidding opens, I figure that I'll be getting out of here in a few minutes, because who could possibly be enticed by such a bland basket?
Boy was I wrong.
I guess the fact that a greaser (Damon) put up a bid has really pissed people off. All of the sudden, boys are actually bidding for me. Damon glares at me because this wasn't part of the plan and I just shrug apologetically. Trust me, I am just as surprised as he is. As the bids go higher, I begin to get worried. How long are the jocks going to keep this up?
Just when I think Damon has won, the mystery guy next to Elijah speaks up and makes an outrageous bid of $200. My jaw drops and I instantly glare at Elijah, but he looks even more shocked than I am.
Damon looks really annoyed and I know he's gotten tired of the game, so in a bold move he ups the bet to $300!
No cheerleader has ever raised $300 by herself.
Apparently the bid wasn't high enough because it keeps going up. This is crazy... Damon should not be spending this much money.
In a harsh voice, Damon makes a bid of $497 and I know this is all he has on him from the look on his face.
Rage fills me as Elijah's friend wins my basket for $499. That's just wrong!
Oh, Lord.
This is going to be bad.
If I am this mad, then I can only imagine how furious Damon must be.
Right on cue, Damon stands up from his row and storms out.
Damn.
All the girls turn to me seeking a reaction, but I don't have one to give them. Isn't it obvious? My badass greaser boyfriend is about to snap and anybody within his radius better step aside.
Damn.
The worst part is I have to sit on stage in this stupid dress and wait for the last two baskets to be auctioned off. I can't even run after Damon and talk to him about this before he does anything stupid! I keep glancing at Elijah and he's not meeting my gaze. Actually, it looks like he's irritated with the guy that won me.
After the bidding is finally over, I practically jump off the stage to talk to Elijah. Since he's sitting in the front row, it's really easy for me to get to him. For all I know, this is all his fault. I mean why else would someone that I've never met in my entire life spend $500 on me? To Elijah, I bet this money means nothing to him. Chump change.
Elijah is a little taken aback when I grab his arm and pull him out of his chair.
"Woah, slow down sweetheart," he says, but not in his usual composed voice.
"Don't call me that," I snap and pull him along through the crowd. "We need to talk. Now."
I take him to a fairly empty hallway. Lord, what is with us and hallways all the time?
With my minimal strength, I push him into the wall because I'm furious.
"What was that? And don't play dumb," I snap at him, crossing my arms.
"I don't know..." he begins hesitantly.
"What do you mean, 'you don't know?'; you knew that was my basket. I didn't have to tell you that was my basket."
"Of course, it was your basket. Anyone with half the brain would know that's the only reason why your boyfriend would bother showing up to this shindig."
"Then what?" I'm so frustrated. "I thought you said you weren't going to bid on me."
"Um, I didn't bid on you."
"You're not funny!" I cry out. "Making your friend bid on me was a bad, bad idea. How could you?"
"I didn't make him bid on you," he snaps and I see he's losing his temper. "And Klaus is not my friend."
If this were any other situation I would have laughed at the name Klaus. I mean, really, who name's their kid that?
"You really expect me to believe that?" I retort. "Some guy I've never met in my life shows up to the auction, sits down next to you and pays $500 for my basket. And you're trying to pretend this all just happened out of thin air?"
"Look, it wasn't a set up. I mean, come on," he says in a rude tone. "Elena, I hate to break it to you, but I am not as obsessed with you as you think I am. I hardly like you!"
"Well, good, because I don't like you. I don't like you at all!" I shout at him. Our lips are only a few inches apart in this heated rage. "You still haven't given me a straight answer. How could you do this to me?"
"Are you deaf? How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't set you up?"
I slap him hard because he damn deserves it by now.
Elijah gives me a look of pure hatred as he rubs his jaw. "Klaus... Klaus is my brother."
"Your brother?"
"Don't interrupt me," he glares. "Klaus is my brother. I just saw him for the first time in a few months. He's usually at college. I don't know why he's home, but I told him to meet me here."
I stare at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
"I never asked him to bid on your basket... I swear," he says with an expression that looks suspiciously honest.
"But then how did he know to bid on me?"
"You don't know how Klaus is," Elijah says frustrated. "He's not like me at all. He's..."
"He's what?"
"He likes to play games, okay?" he explains with a remorseful reaction. "I'm sure the only reason why he bid on your basket was because he wanted to be the wildcard or something. He finds enjoyment in messing with people. So, you know, your boyfriend and all those guys in that bidding war... he must have found it amusing. I don't know. I can't explain it anymore than that."
"That's sick. You guys are sick."
"I'm sick?" Elijah repeats offended. "I've been nothing but nice to you since I moved to this town."
I roll my eyes. "Of course, out of the kindness of your heart and without an ulterior motive."
"Are we done here?" Elijah asks stiffly.
"Yeah," I sigh, but before he leaves, I grab his arm. "You know I can't eat with your brother tomorrow. Have him return the money."
"He's not gonna return the money."
My eyes squint in reaction. "He has to return the money. Or fine, you know what, he can keep the basket for all I care!"
"I don't know how to say this exactly, but my brother will come after you tomorrow. Trust me," Elijah practically whispers.
I give him a disbelieving look.
"He's not afraid of your boyfriend. He's not afraid of anyone," he justifies dryly.
"It's not my boyfriend he needs to be afraid of," I bite out. "I thought you knew... you must know... everyone knows..."
Elijah looks at me expectantly.
"My brother. Jeremy Gilbert," I state, almost sadly. "If your brother comes after me, I won't be able to protect him! So, just stay away from me!"
"Protect him? He doesn't need your protection."
"Just for the..." I stop myself from swearing as I notice that there are people gathered around us now. "Whatever you do, don't drive home today."
"Is that a threat?" Elijah doesn't look too concerned.
"No, that's me trying to clean up your mess."
"My mess? This isn't 'my' mess."
"If you care for your brother, then you'll get him to call this whole thing off. I can't make myself anymore clearer."
"He's not going to call it off. It doesn't matter how much I don't want him to go out with you. He's not going to listen to me."
"Then we're going to have a serious problem," I say quietly. Before I continue our conversation, I see that Klaus has found Elijah and I. Just by what Elijah has said about him, I can't stand to be in the same space as him, so I excuse myself hastily and try to think myself out of what's going to happen tomorrow.
How did things get so messed up? It was a damn basket auction. Come tomorrow, if I know Jer the way I know him, this is going to end up being a class war. No one has ever dared to disrespect one of his gang members in public before. It doesn't even matter if Damon doesn't tell him, someone is going to tell my brother what happened today. Damn.
There's been some intriguing reviews left for me lately. I want to answer some, but I also don't want to post really long author notes here. I'm going to reply to readers on my Tumblr: NerdDamon. If you're looking for a reply, it's tagged under "replies". Note: I do not answer ALL questions, for various reasons. Lately all of you have been especially sweet/kind/polite, I truly appreciate that, you have no idea. (Treat every author like this and they'll write more!)
Remember, my dear readers, the NEW CHAPTERS you've never read before start at #46!
There is a notice at the top of chapter #1 about why some of you are re-readers.
Enternally Damon & Elena Loving, Yours- S