Part 6
Dear Diary,
I can't believe I attracted the attention of a Salvatore! I'm mortified! That's just more of Elena's crap. As entertaining as being a vampire might be, *that* was all Elena's crap as well, and the last person I'd let change me is Mr. Suave aka Damon Salvatore.
At least Josh is turning out to be more understanding than I though. He seems to almost relate to my need for change, my desperation to be my own person.
And I'm more than a little surprised to find Suzanne is helping out with that. And Veronique, who is probably the most interesting person in my life right now. I don't know what it is about her...it's more than just her refreshingly original take on things....I can't quite put it into words. Or even full sentences.
I don't know why I invited Connie and Darla to this club tonight. Connie's phoned me four times to complain about how dangerous this is. Four fucking times! I wouldn't mind if some unheard of monster did come into the club and bite her stupid empty head off.
I'm surprised I haven't heard from Darla as well. I'm extremely tempted to not bother picking them and go alone. Then again, in the morning they would just grill me about what happened.
Ugh, I'm almost ready to say to hell with Fell's Church ad skip town all together, screw graduating. I could work my way across country, go somewhere where nobody's ever heard of the Gilberts. It's a long stretch, I know, but long stretches don't seem all that long anymore...
Margaret's words trailed off. She put the pen down and the diary away. Veronique and Suzanne were coming to pick her up in twenty minutes. She hadn't even thought about what she was going to wear.
Veronique had never mentioned any sort of dress code for Fire and Thorns. Aunt Judith thought she was spending the night with a friend to work on a sociology project.
Margaret smirked a little as she stood in front of her wardrobe, debating. She finally settled on a short elegant yet sexy black dress with no straps and a glittery bust. With her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, a faux ruby necklace at her throat completed the look.
Aunt Judith and Robert had gone out to dinner, so they couldn't see her and stop her, demanding their irritating answers. Margaret often wondered if either of them had ever been teenagers.
The door bell was ringing. Only when she answered Margaret was face to face with two people she had never seen before. One was a guy, tall and attractive, with strong-looking arms and a muscular torso. He had blue eyes and platinum blond hair, and was dressed in white leather pants and a white leather vest.
The girl with him was dark skinned with long coppery-red hair, wearing a hot pink dress with spaghetti straps and a long skirt, slit to the hip on both sides, showing off her legs.
Margaret felt her heart skip several beats. "Yeah?"
"Margaret Gilbert?" the girl asked.
"That's me." She folded her arms. "Who the hell are you two?" she asked, trying not to smile, or melt into a puddle. These were probably two of the most striking people she had ever seen.
"Your escorts for the night. Veronique sent us," the girl told her. "I'm Natasha. He's Dalton."
"Your chariot awaits," Dalton said with a smirk, gesturing to the sleek red sports car with a convertible top that was sitting on the drive.
Margaret knew it was extremely fo0lish to go off with two beautiful strangers. But who cared about what was right anymore? Certainly not her.
* * *
Dear Diary,
I can't believe I attracted the attention of a Salvatore! I'm mortified! That's just more of Elena's crap. As entertaining as being a vampire might be, *that* was all Elena's crap as well, and the last person I'd let change me is Mr. Suave aka Damon Salvatore.
At least Josh is turning out to be more understanding than I though. He seems to almost relate to my need for change, my desperation to be my own person.
And I'm more than a little surprised to find Suzanne is helping out with that. And Veronique, who is probably the most interesting person in my life right now. I don't know what it is about her...it's more than just her refreshingly original take on things....I can't quite put it into words. Or even full sentences.
I don't know why I invited Connie and Darla to this club tonight. Connie's phoned me four times to complain about how dangerous this is. Four fucking times! I wouldn't mind if some unheard of monster did come into the club and bite her stupid empty head off.
I'm surprised I haven't heard from Darla as well. I'm extremely tempted to not bother picking them and go alone. Then again, in the morning they would just grill me about what happened.
Ugh, I'm almost ready to say to hell with Fell's Church ad skip town all together, screw graduating. I could work my way across country, go somewhere where nobody's ever heard of the Gilberts. It's a long stretch, I know, but long stretches don't seem all that long anymore...
Margaret's words trailed off. She put the pen down and the diary away. Veronique and Suzanne were coming to pick her up in twenty minutes. She hadn't even thought about what she was going to wear.
Veronique had never mentioned any sort of dress code for Fire and Thorns. Aunt Judith thought she was spending the night with a friend to work on a sociology project.
Margaret smirked a little as she stood in front of her wardrobe, debating. She finally settled on a short elegant yet sexy black dress with no straps and a glittery bust. With her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, a faux ruby necklace at her throat completed the look.
Aunt Judith and Robert had gone out to dinner, so they couldn't see her and stop her, demanding their irritating answers. Margaret often wondered if either of them had ever been teenagers.
The door bell was ringing. Only when she answered Margaret was face to face with two people she had never seen before. One was a guy, tall and attractive, with strong-looking arms and a muscular torso. He had blue eyes and platinum blond hair, and was dressed in white leather pants and a white leather vest.
The girl with him was dark skinned with long coppery-red hair, wearing a hot pink dress with spaghetti straps and a long skirt, slit to the hip on both sides, showing off her legs.
Margaret felt her heart skip several beats. "Yeah?"
"Margaret Gilbert?" the girl asked.
"That's me." She folded her arms. "Who the hell are you two?" she asked, trying not to smile, or melt into a puddle. These were probably two of the most striking people she had ever seen.
"Your escorts for the night. Veronique sent us," the girl told her. "I'm Natasha. He's Dalton."
"Your chariot awaits," Dalton said with a smirk, gesturing to the sleek red sports car with a convertible top that was sitting on the drive.
Margaret knew it was extremely fo0lish to go off with two beautiful strangers. But who cared about what was right anymore? Certainly not her.
* * *