It really sucks when you tell yourself not to read any Elijah fanfics whilst working on this story, because you don't want to be subconsciously influenced or anything... but I really want to :/ Oh well…
Thank you for all the follows, reviews and for marking this story as a favourite! As for compelling and how Evangeline fits in the vampire community, we'll get to that, don't worry! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries (or the quotation from Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift).
''Wait... so tell me again why we're reading about these little guys?''
''We're working to improve your writing skills, Mr. Johnson,'' I explained. ''That is why you 'read about these little guys'.''
Isaac looked at me with pleading, puppy dog eyes, but I ignored his little attempt to sway me and continued.
''Now, listen to this,'' I cleared my throat. ''In the large pocket, on the right side of his middle cover (so I translate the word Ranfulo, by which they meant my breeches,) we saw a hollow pillar of iron, about the length of a man, fastened to a strong piece of timber larger than the pillar...'' I trailed off.
Looking out over the class, I saw the boredom apparent on their faces – but at least they were paying attention. ''What is he describing here?''
No answer, until Stefan Salvatore reached his hand discreetly in the air.
I nodded towards him. ''Yes, Mr. Salvatore?''
''A pistol. A gun,'' he added to clarify.
''And a pistol it is indeed,'' I praised him, and then turned to the whole class. ''I want you to pick an object in this room – anything at all – and describe it in the most objective way you can. And you can't say what it is or what it's meant for. Are we clear?''
The class hummed in agreement and I felt my heart leap a little in my chest from the sound of rustling papers. It really warmed my heart – and my confidence got a sweet boost – that they did what I asked.
After class, Stefan stayed behind. ''You wanted to see me?''
''Oh, good, you remembered,'' I said and hurried to gather my things. I didn't have a lot of time in between two classes this morning, so I tried to be as straight forward I could without sounding rude. ''You've been gone a lot, lately.''
Stefan smiled apologetically. ''Yes, I know... I have been in and out of a bad cold, and there's been a lot concerning my family that I needed to... um, take part in.''
''If that's the case,'' I began, brushing some hair out of my face, ''I guess there's really nothing you can do about it? It's just been an awful lot, and I'm only thinking about you. Too much absence and you won't be allowed to graduate, you know that right?''
''Yes, I am aware,'' he said slowly. His voice seemed to stay at the same pitch, it was so leveled. He most likely knew how to talk his way out of things, that's for sure. He seemed so polite. And he was smart, I'd seen that myself, first hand, in class. And yet, he appeared to think this wasn't a problem. Which it was.
''I'll settle it,'' he promised.
''Good,'' I nodded. It still seemed somewhat strange. Nevertheless, I remained polite and offered him a reassuring smile. ''Thank you for stopping by.'' After all, I couldn't actually force him to go to school, I could only hope he would take my words into consideration.
I got back to fumbling with what papers I was supposed to bring for the next class, which, of course, the one time I had no time at all were in complete disarray. In the corner of my eye, I noticed him still standing there. ''There wasn't anything else, so you can go.''
''Okay. Oh, and by the way?'' He paused and I looked at him expectantly. ''Good choice on Swift.''
I tilted my head. ''Thank you.''
''Bye, Miss Moreau.'' He smiled politely and stepped out of the office.
''Have a nice day,'' I replied slowly. When the door shut after him, I let my mask fall and frowned. I couldn't figure him out. In class, he was the epiphany of good behaviour. And I didn't quite believe that all his absence was because of a cold, since I'd never seen him as much as sniffle. And family issues, sure, but the reasons he gave couldn't quite explain it anyway.
When I rushed off to get to class, I made a mental note to myself to go straight to the teachers office afterward, to see if there was a teacher there I could discuss this with.
I stuck my head through the door and looked around to see if anyone was there. Luckily, I found Mr. Saltzman seated at his desk, deeply concentrated on what looked like grading papers.
''Um... Mr. Saltzman?''
His head snapped up quicker than I thought it would. ''Hi, Miss Moreau.''
''Can I talk to you for a second?''
He nodded and pushed the papers away from him. ''Sure.''
I walked over to my chair and sat down a couple of feet away from him.
''Well...'' I began, not quite sure how to put it. ''You know Stefan Salvatore?''
Mr. Saltzman frowned, his brown eyes showing a hint of concern. ''Yeah? What about him?''
''He's... well, he's been missing a lot of classes. It kind of has me worried.''
Mr. Saltzman sighed. Almost in relief. ''I'm aware.''
''You...'' I spluttered in surprise. ''You're aware?''
He nodded solemnly. ''Yes.''
I wasn't sure what was out of my bounds as a substitute or not, honestly, but at the moment that wasn't really in my head. ''Well, did you ever talk to him?''
''We...'' Mr. Saltzman cleared his throat. ''We have an understanding.'' An understanding, what on earth does that mean?
''Um... okay?''
''So you don't need to worry about it.''
''What kind of understanding?'' I pressed.
''You don't need to worry about it, Miss Moreau. Evangeline.''
Using my first name honestly only made the whole thing seem patronising, like he used the I'm-an-adult-you're-not-quite card. And if he'd made some sort of proper understanding with Stefan Salvatore, then he shouldn't want to keep it a secret. Maybe it concerned something that had him legally obligated to keep quiet, though. But my gut told me it wasn't anything like that. And I was very good at reading people. My… my powers seemed to allow me to read people somewhat, when not even touching them. The feelings that were visible. And even though Mr. Saltzman's face was hard as stone - his eyes… they were something else. He was most certainly hiding something, something that didn't have to do with the things they wanted me to believe.
To be honest, the little devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear to accidentally touch him to get a sense of him – but I knew that I couldn't use it like that. It went against everything I stood for. So I couldn't. And I wouldn't.
''Okay, then,'' I tried my hardest not to make it come out as a sigh, because that wouldn't earn me any points. ''All I did was talk to him about it. Let's hope he comes around.''
Mr. Saltzman nodded in agreement. ''Don't worry about it.''
I swear, if I hear one more time that I don't need to worry about it...
I stretched the corners of my mouth into an uncomfortable smile. ''Have a good day, Mr. Saltzman.''
It was one thing for a student to – maybe – lie about his or her whereabouts, but for a teacher to do so blatantly made me both angry and confused. Call me intuitive, but something was off. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was, and why Mr. Saltzman seemed to be protecting Stefan Salvatore's interests.
''Get in!'' my mother's excited voice rang from the car across the parking lot. I shook my head and laughed. How did her voice manage to carry that strong at that distance? I jogged over to her and jumped in next to the driver's seat.
''Hi mum,'' I grinned. ''Think everyone heard you loud and clear?''
She glared at me. ''Ha ha. Ready to do some shopping?'' She said the latter with some sort of strange, almost-French pronunciation.
''You're so cool,'' I rolled my eyes.
''I know, right?'' she laughed and shook her head. ''No, but seriously. You know anything we should be on the lookout for?''
''Well... I like red, you know that,'' I said slowly, thinking. ''And blue. Just not black, please.''
''Black is off the radar,'' she proclaimed. ''You're so pretty in black, though.''
I shrugged. ''It's boring. And if we're going to spend money...''
Mum threw me another glare. ''You remember, Evangeline. No talk of finances.''
''Sorry,'' I mumbled. ''Red or blue.''
''We look good in grey, too. It goes with our eyes.''
I punched her lightly in the shoulder. ''We're not sisters, you know that right?''
My mother let out a hearty laugh. ''I know. It's true, though.''
I groaned and sank down lower in my seat. ''I know,'' I muttered.
I sighed as I went through each and every one of the dresses hanging on the rack. They were either too revealing or too old-lady like. We had an old mask that my mother had used before, which still was in good condition – and the dress had to match it as well, at least a little bit.
Shopping was fun... until you didn't find what you were looking for. I had almost gotten to the end of this particular line of dresses, when my mother called out excitedly from the other side of the rack.
''I've found it!''
I leaned up and peeked over it only to find her practically jumping up and down in excitement.
''Well, let me see it?'' I demanded and went over to her side.
It was actually really pretty. With a halter neck, a fitted waist from which a pleated skirt fell down to mid thigh; it definitely lived up to my imagination. The colour was stunning, too – and would probably make my hair look more golden than it really was. It was a dark crimson – short on any other simile; almost like the dark red colour of blood.
''I agree,'' I grinned approvingly. ''I'm going to try it on.''
''If you had said no I would have forced you,'' my mother joked.
I stuck my tongue out to her and closed the drapes on me in the closest fitting room. When I slipped into the dress, it felt like a dream. It was so soft, and hugged my waist just like the design was supposed to, and when I looked in the mirror I almost gasped.
''Mum?''
''Yes, honey?''
''I really, really like this dress,'' I admitted and spun around to look at the back of it as it reflected in the mirror.
''Oh, can I see?'' I swear, sometimes my mother could pass for a twelve year old girl.
I opened up the drapes and saw my mother's face erupting in a smile larger than mine.
''Evangline, you look beautiful.''
''Yeah, right,'' I huffed and rolled my eyes. ''But thank you.''
She smiled and gave me a big hug. ''So you want it?''
I nodded enthusiastically. ''I do.''
''Take it off then, so we can go pay for it,'' she practically sang. I let out a quiet laugh. My mother had always been a little... eccentric. To say the least. But she was happy.
''Well, get out,'' I ordered her and closed the drapes right in front of her face.
I slipped out of the dress easily and hurried to get back in my own clothes. I took a quick look around to make sure I didn't forget anything, and then went to join my mother who was already standing by the cashier.
''For the masquerade?'' the woman, Mrs. Martin, asked kindly. It was a small town, Mystic Falls. Everybody pretty much knew everybody.
''Yes,'' I nodded.
Mrs. Martin leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. ''Between you and me, Evangeline, how is my daughter behaving in school?''
I laughed. ''Just fine, Mrs. Martin. Nothing to worry about, that I know of. She's doing excellent in English.''
Mrs. Martin looked content. ''Good. Janine.'' She nodded towards my mother. ''How's everything at work?''
My mother smiled politely. ''It's work,'' she said, earning a snort from Mrs. Martin.
''Tell me about it,'' she laughed. ''You enjoy the party, Evangeline. Hope everything clears up, Janine. I'm sure you know what's been going around.''
''Yes, unfortunately,'' my mother grimaced. ''We'll sort it out.''
''I don't doubt it,'' Mrs. Martin smiled. ''Have a nice day!''
We said goodbye to Mrs. Martin and excited the shop, my mother not jumping up and down anymore.
''What was that about the hospital?'' I asked curiously. Mum had it her way that I didn't get to hear anything work-related from her, at least not anything specific.
''Something I thought wouldn't get out,'' she sighed and shook her head.
I wanted to pry deeper, but I knew that if I did, she would come at me with claws and teeth. Not literally, of course, but she was very keen on her professional secrecy, even when it might not legally apply.
After dinner that night, I spent about fifteen, twenty minutes admiring the dress that I'd hung visible on the edge of one of the bookshelves. Right now, it was probably the prettiest thing I owned, clothing-wise. The mask hung on the hanger, too. It was old, practically vintage, and was pretty simple. Dark grey, with silver threads leaping along the edges. It was like the dress and mask were made for each other, and me.
I swirled around my chair so that I faced my desk instead. The pattering of keys under my fingers was the only sound besides my mothers snoring that sounded in the whole house. The whole neighbourhood, it almost seemed. Not surprising, I hadn't gotten any reasonable hits this night either.
Maybe I should just give it up? Maybe I'd live a fuller life if I just accepted it. If I tried even harder to be normal. Wear a pretty dress to a masquerade and hang out with people, normal people, who wore pretty dresses and nice shirts. People who after they took of their extravagant masks and clothes went back to being everyday people, with everyday lives and everyday minds. Not people who, when they touched each other, could manipulate each others feelings. If I lived a lie long enough... maybe I'd believe it?
I'm not sure if I'll be able to post another chapter next week, I might but I'm not sure. I have it written though, so as soon as I can. But, on the bright side, we've got some action coming up! Stay tuned for the next one :)
