My morning was off to a rocky start when I realized that my new "roommate" had taken the liberty of eating the last of the waffles...and then proceeded to eat the last of the cereal I owned. He didn't even bother writing them down for somebody to go buy them.
I realized this when I'd trudged my tired butt down the stairs and attempted to make some iced coffee from packages I'd accumulated through Katherine when she'd worked at Starbucks. She didn't like iced coffee, so she gave all of the packets to me.
Damon was dressed for the day and enjoying a glass of black cherry Kool-Aid when he saw me groan.
"What is it?" he smirked.
"When we run out of something you have to list it on this paper," I said as I held it up and wiggled it around.
He raised an eyebrow.
"That is the only bill here," I said. "Roommates have to go out and buy groceries when they're low. If you don't write what items we need, then I don't get them. Thus, you ruin my homing condition."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Little Brother," he laughed as he put his hands up in mock apology. "I won't do it again."
I glared at him and he smirked.
"You're so different than you used to be," I mumbled under my breath so only I could hear…or so I thought.
"You aren't the same yourself anymore," he commented casually as he flipped through an old newspaper with Katherine's obituary in it. "God, she was so gorgeous in this picture."
The last comment was about my dead girlfriend's senior picture on the second page of the paper. The accident made headlines in this town, and it even aired once on the news. Most said 'Three Die In Car Crash, One Survives', or 'Only Twin Survives Accident', but this one stated 'Two New Yorkers and Local Woman Die In Automobile Accident, Town Local, Elena Gilbert, Survives'. The paper had went on to talk about how Katherine and Miranda had come down from New York to reconcile with Elena and Grayson. The section with Katherine's senior picture also a small article about her, and it was placed next to Elena's senior picture, with her personal paragraph. There were captions below the pictures to tell who was who, but Katherine's curly hair against Elena's straight helped a bit in differentiating.
"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "She was."
"Well," he took in a deep breath and closed the paper, "there's no use fretting on it now. What are your plans for today?"
"I have to go shopping," I said. "Your sudden arrival doesn't help the monthly grocery fees."
"Well then," he said, "since I'm going to be here, shouldn't I contribute my own wages to keep up with finances?"
"You don't have a job, Damon," I said in a snaky tone. "Where are you going to get money?"
"Nonsense," he chuckled. "I have a job as the groundskeeper at the graveyard. I only work three nights a week and probably get paid more than you do because nobody likes that job. It's hard for anybody to accept it."
I bit my lip so I wouldn't say I'd be likely to regret.
"See?" he said as he gestured his drink towards me before sipping on it. "You know I'm right."
"Whatever," I mumbled as I stirred up the coffee in my water and ice.
"Better yet," he said as he read the cover of the paper, "I'll go with you."
We'd definitely get more done, and that would make me early for meeting Caroline at the town square. She'd called me earlier and asked me to go, "Fine."
"We also need to stop at the flower shop," he said as he grabbed his keys. "Oh, and we're taking my car."
"What the heck is wrong with taking my car, and why do we have to go to the flower shop?" I asked in a tone that probably made me sound like a stubborn little boy. I was totally sounding like the little brother…this time, at least.
"One," he began as he marked it off on his finger, "it's a scorching ninety degrees today, and my car's a convertible, unlike your small, scorching, hot box, bug you pass off as a vehicle. Second: I'd like to decorate Miranda's grave, and Katherine's too."
"Don't you tend the lawn there?" I asked. "Don't they have flowers laying around?"
"Only fake ones," he replied. "I'd like to plant some. Maybe some White Heron Irises, or Bleeding Hearts, or both."
Our mother had an Iris garden in our tiny backyard. Living in New York had its downfalls, like minimal yardage, but getting to walk through Times Square on my way to school totally felt worth it.
"Yeah, sure," I said subconsciously. In actuality, I wasn't paying much attention.
"Well, let's go," Damon said as he broke my thoughts up. "We're burning daylight."
When he'd snapped his fingers in front of my face to get me to focus, I caught something that glinted on his hand, "Where did you get that ring?"
"This?" he asked as he made it sparkle again. "Katherine got it for me for my birthday last year. I'd lost it, until recently, when I'd found it in one of my old wallets."
I examined it closer. The ring was a lovely sterling silver with a familiar blue stone placed on top of it. The Salvatore family crest was placed in the middle of the jewel with a letter "D" in the center.
"I have the same ring," I said. It was true. In fact, it was strung around a necklace that I'd put in my suitcase in making my way down here. The only difference was that mine had an "S" in the middle. Katherine had bought it for me on our second "anniversary". It was the same time I'd gotten her the necklace that she'd worn in my dream...and in her casket. "Apparently she thought lapis lazuli looked good on us."
He agreed.
Without another word, I'd followed him to his car and hopped into the passenger side.
"So, which grocer do you want to go to?" I asked. "Elena and I went to the one by the school yesterday. It seemed clean and fresh."
"You and Elena, huh?" he quirked as he nudged my shoulder. "Is that who you were dreaming about last night?"
I smiled, but it was at Damon's stupidity, "No. Last night was about Katherine."
"That's even steamier," he teased. "Tell me more."
"There wasn't much to it," I said. "She'd just gotten out of the shower and dropped her towel."
"No wonder you were camping," he laughed as he drove and changed the radio station.
"That's all that happened," I announced. "Your perfect timing made sure of that."
We'd used slang like this all of the time, and we spoke openly about sex to one another. He'd told me the basics of it because our father wasn't around to talk to, and it was too embarrassing for me to ask Mom about it. Thus, Damon was the one I went to.
"Harsh," he commented at my irritated tone. "No worries, though. I'd be pretty pissed if I were you and my older brother came barging in when I was about to do my girl, whether it was a dream or not."
"Yup," I agreed as I looked out to the passing landscapes.
Damon suddenly chuckled, "Do you remember the time we went swimming on Italy's beach when we were younger? I think you were six, and I was thirteen. You got a hard on from the colder water and you came swimming over to me panicking. I remember you screamed at me to help you, and that you said you were sick. You thought your dick was sick!"
"Yeah," I smirked, "and then you proceeded to terrify me more when you said now that it was ill, it was going to fall off."
Damon was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and I could only make out a "yeah" between his breaths. I chuckled under my breath and shook my head.
"Oh, come on!" he smiled. "You have to admit that it was funny! Then, you ran up to Dad telling him that it was going to fall off, you had him rolling in the sand!"
"He laughed about as hard as you did just now," I remembered. "You had me worrying until bedtime when you two finally decided to tell me why my pene was hard."
He laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders and smacked me on the back, "See? Not all of our memories are terrible, sad, or scary."
"That one was terrible, sad, and scary for me!" I said as I laughed. "I actually believed it was going to fall off!"
"Sucker," he muttered.
"I was six, Damon!"
"Yeah, and that made it all the more funny to watch."
"Ugh," I groaned. "You're so immature for your age."
"Watch it, Little Brother," he said. "I'm almost in my mid-twenties. I may go through a quarter life crisis soon enough. Then it'll get worse."
I shook my head and groaned while Damon laughed his butt all the way to the far away grocery store, just so he could get those flowers.
…
"Which ones do you like better?" he asked as he held up a box of still-connected-to-the-root-in-the-soil lilies and still-blooming irises. The lilies were dipped into a right pink and purple coloring to give their edges a nice touch and the irises had a coupon with them saying that if we bought them then we'd get 50% off a bouquet of roses in the color that we picked out.
"I don't know, Damon," I said meekly as I stared at our grocery cart full of checked-out bagged items. If we didn't get the meat home soon, it would spoil. Damon needed to hurry up.
"Fine, Mr. Broody," he said in a sarcastic tone. "You go to the car, and I'll pick what I want. You know, though, she was your girlfriend, not mine. You should be helping me instead of worrying about the meat. You decided to shop first and pick flowers later."
His leather jacket and tall, dark figure stood out from the rest of the shop, for it was pink with short older ladies whose skirts matched the flowers they were buying. Some swooned at the fact Damon had the audacity and romanticism to come in here without complaint and smell the flowers before checking them out. Some men just grabbed the first ones they saw. I rolled my eyes at them. The women were in their late thirties and early forties, so I guess that was normal. If they only knew, though. That was the irony in it all.
I took Damon's keys and pushed the cart out to his car. Thank goodness the man decided to carry a cooler in the backseat for when he went to parties and such. The meat would stay cool in there.
After I took the cart back into the store, I went and sat out at the car with the keys in the ignition to listen to the radio. There were a few songs that I liked and listened to, but I did change the station a lot. I'd relaxed back into my seat , closing my eyes from the blinding, mid-afternoon sun. Reaching up to pull the mirrored visor down, something caught my eye behind me.
It was an all-too-familiar woman with long brown hair tied up into a ponytail. She had on blue jeans and a plain white tank top. Her shoes had been worn from all of the walking she did, or maybe it was running. She had sunglasses on, and she'd just entered the section of the store where Damon was.
I then wondered what Elena would be doing here when she'd told me she was supposed to meet up with Bonnie. Not wanting to be obvious, I casually made my way out of Damon's car and entered back into the store. When I caught sight of her small body, it was standing beside Damon's five-foot-nine-inch one. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, and their backs were to me, but I could definitely make out Elena's voice.
He was casually looking over at her and smiling while she placed her hand around his upper arm and gave it a light squeeze. I hid by a vending machine and pretended not to notice.
When she'd turned sideways I'd gotten a good view of her. It was definitely Elena. Damon had put her arm around her and pulled her close while whispering something in her ear to make her smile. My blood was beginning to boil at the sight of them when a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I was going get a drink or not, and to move if I wasn't because she was thirsty.
"Of course, ma'am," I mumbled softly as I moved out of her way. It was as if I could've been heard, for Damon looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He didn't realize that I noticed him. He must've thought that I was just helping the woman.
When I'd looked back at him, Elena was gone. I approached him and he spoke at me in a harsh tone.
"I thought you waited in the car," he said blankly, but there was anger in his eyes. For what, I don't know.
"I did, and you took too damn long, so I came back in," I said just as harsh.
"When did you?" he asked.
"Just now as I went to get a water," I lied. I was good at lying. After all, he taught me how. His advice: believe the lie you're telling so your heart rate won't speed up.
"So where is it?" he said as he looked me up and down.
"I'd changed my mind," I lied again. "The lady behind me rushed me anyhow."
"Whatever," he said with harsh, cold eyes and an angry expression. He walked away from me as I went further into the store to buy some flowers.
Damon won't have her, I thought to myself. I'll win her fair and square. I'll let her know that Damon doesn't care.