"Where the hell have you been?" Jenna demanded, folding her arms across her chest the very second I opened the door. Seeing her there, on my threshold so early in the morning, had me blinking several times before my brain started functioning.
"How do you know my address?" was the first question that came to mind.
"I went to Liz to have her dig it out for me," Jenna explained, pushing past me and into the apartment without waiting for an invite. "Imagine my surprise when I found out she already knew and had been here, when you never even told me the name of the street." Once past the kitchenette and in the middle of the living room slash bedroom, Jenna stopped to have a look around. "Okay, it looks nice," she admitted with reluctance. And, clearly, she already knew who to thank for that.
During this recent absence from the drama that was my sister's love life, Bonnie's witchy woo-woo, and whatever the hell Damon and Stefan were up to, I'd chosen to try to butter up Liz once more. Getting my foot into the Council of theirs – one the founding families of Mystic Falls had created when the town way back when had begun experiencing unexplainable attacks – had been the main thing on my agenda, and to achieve that I'd once again approached Liz, this time asking for her help in fixing up my dump of an apartment.
As floorboards were replaced, wallpapers ripped down, walls spackled and painted, new kitchen cabinets put in place and a repaint of the walk-in-closet was made, I cautiously tried prying every little piece of info I could get of the Sheriff. By the time we were finished – several days of hard work during which she had to take numerous calls with a serious face, only sparking my curiosity more – I could admire the apartment, and mostly so the frankly gorgeous, baby-blue walk-in-closet, with pride as Liz did the same from my side.
By then, the Sheriff had warmed up to me a bit, so much so that she'd confirmed the Council did indeed still exist, that I was better off not on it, but that what the future held was unclear. Meaning, if more attacks happened and I kept up my perseverance, that foot I had inside the Council by birthright might be enough to let me in fully.
"But, either way, renovating this place couldn't have kept you from picking up your damn phone!" Jenna insisted, seating herself on the arm of a recently acquired second-hand couch.
"Hey! I did pick up my phone," I stated, closing the front door – completely disregarding my bathroom opposite from it, a lost cause Liz had told me only a professional should take a look at – and moved to grab my cup of coffee from the counter of the U-shaped kitchenette, its steaming receding in strength as the warmth began to leave it. "Forgive me if talks of douchy ex-boyfriends started to tire me," I huffed, taking a sip from the nearly burning beverage.
"Well," Jenna sighed, slumping back to land on her back in the couch, legs draped over the side. "That's not gonna be a problem anymore."
"How come?" I asked, frowning as I moved closer and took a seat in one of the matching armchairs next to the sofa.
"Logan bailed. Probably. I mean, I don't know since he won't answer my calls, but it's most likely." She shrugged, exhaling deeply. "I can't believe I let myself get roped into that again."
"Me neither," I muttered, taking another sip from the cup in my hand. Several dinners and meet-ups had been made between my aunt and the Scumfell, and that in itself was enough to keep me away from the house. "He's a cheating dick, Jenna. Say the word and I'll find him and kick his ass."
"Thank you," Jenna chuckled from her place in the couch, turning her face to look at me. "But I'm good, really. I think it's actually Elena who needs to hear those type of things."
"Oh, I'll get around to kick Stefan's ass too. Trust me," I assured. From what little Jenna knew and Elena had informed me off in short texts or quick phone calls, that whole business wasn't going too great either lately. My sister had claimed Stefan to be acting weird, but since then she had also adopted the same behavior, and I couldn't help but wonder what she'd found out…
"Anyway!" Jenna let out suddenly, and I snapped out of my thoughts with an automatic faint smile on my lips as she rolled off the couch and stood up to face me fully. "It's about time you see your brother," she stated, and my smile faded. "I'm done making up excuses to why you two have yet to meet since you came back. He's a real stubborn little one when it comes to knowing that."
"I know," I noted with a sigh. "I will, I will. It's just…" I shook my head, but Jenna waited patiently for me to go on. "He was 11 when I left, Jenna. I know I visited some since then, but he barely knows me and the little he does has changed. We've both changed. I don't know if I'm ready to meet a moody, teenage pothead when I still see him as a nerdy little kid with no front teeth."
"I see what you mean," Jenna acknowledged, crouching down in front of me with a gentle hand on my knee. "Age difference and time passing can be difficult. But Elena was only 13 when you first went off to college, there doesn't seem to be any problem there."
"That's because we stayed in touch, like you and I," I pointed out. All of it thanks to my mom's insistent letters and phone calls whenever I had access to answer such. She'd been the main force in keeping my relations to my sister intact, whilst Jeremy had been more skeptic to his older sister always gone and so rarely visiting.
"Still." Jenna squeezed my knee faintly. "Avoiding it will do no good, you know that."
"Yeah, yeah," I admitted with a sigh and roll of my eyes. "I will. Okay? Soon."
"Very soon," Jenna countered with, and I chuckling agreed as she stood to leave. "I'll be monitoring," she declared.
"I bet you just want someone to help you out with how to deal with his teenage mood swings," I claimed once she was halfway to the door.
"Maybe a little guilty," Jenna threw over her shoulder with a smile. "But it's also necessary for the both of you."
"I know," I sighed once more. "I know."
But did I follow my aunt's advice and make contact with my brother so soon after her appearance at my apartment? Nope. Instead, I didn't get around to do it until I, one day, ran into Matt at the grocery store.
Once we were done with exchanging pleasantries next to the vegetable aisle, he let slip about a Halloween party at the high school later that night. Since the guy seemed awfully gloom – probably something to do with his sister Vicki being off the rails again – I felt a bit bad for him, and found myself not able to say no once he'd suggested I go to the party along with him.
Me! Unable to say no! I was shocked! And ever more so that I agreed to got to my old high school; literally hell made physical on Earth. But with the knowledge of an absent mom and an older sister with a drug problem, in combination with those puppy dog eyes of his, the word fought me. In Matt's eyes, that meant close to a maybe, enough for him to hug me and say he hoped to see me there.
Thus, I either had to get a costume or figure out an excuse to not go. Both I believed I could find at my sister's.
However, once I'd dug out the house key from the earth of a green plant next to the front door, I found the house to be empty of her. Or anyone, for that matter. So, I made myself at home in the kitchen, rummaging through their fridge, coming up empty-handed, before I simply sat down at the table with today's paper at my fingertips.
More of animal attacks stood mentioned on practically every page, and apparently there had been a major one a week or two back. That this was still everywhere in the news should give one an idea of how boring this little town really was.
But as I was flipping through a reportage about a car wash at the high school raising money after Tanner's untimely death, the front door opened and a tall figure dressed in black came sauntering into the hall.
"Hey!" I called as the figure headed up the stairs, and a moment later a teenage boy stuck his head out from halfway up the staircase, before cautiously returning back down.
The scrawny-looking teenager who approached me through the narrow hallway, dressed in black from head to toe, and pulled his equally black headphones from his ears was none other than my baby brother: Jeremy.
"Parker?" he asked, just as stunned to see me – strong posture, head confidently held high and shorter hair – as I was to see him with all his teeth grown in. Regardless of his rapid growth and the cute, trusting eyes of a kid being replaced by the cautious, judging ones of a teenager, I readied myself as I stood up and walked around the table to meet him.
"That's right, Bean-Head," I stated, daring a grin. Instantly, he rolled his eyes, recalling how he'd gotten that horrible nickname.
It had all happened when Jer was practically a toddler, and I myself not that old, during a seemingly regular dinner one night. As I, a reluctant preadolescence forced to help out with dinner, had placed bowl of beans on the edge of the kitchen counter, my brother proudly walking around the kitchen to show off how good he was at his new skill had dumped right into the side of the counter to have the bowl wiggle off and sail down to land right on his head. When my mom drove him to the emergency room – since my dad-the-doctor hadn't been home to check on him instead – the nurse at the desk asked had what had happened, and in that moment I'd yelled out, and I quote, "He got beans in his head!", and so the nickname was born.
One thing that hadn't changed was his appreciation for my humor, it seemed. But, as a change, it was I who initiated the hug I forcefully pulled us into. However, to both my great surprise and relief, Jeremy hugged me back tightly.
"You're back." He stated the obvious into my hair. So typical. Sometimes Bean-Head actually felt more like a reference to his intelligence.
"Yeah." I let out a small laugh and ruffled his hair, which for the record hung in front of his eyes in an unattractive style. "It was about time I came to see you," I said as we withdrew. "I missed you." He still seemed cautious, and I knew why. I felt that same cautiousness too around him now, even though I tried to play it down.
Things had changed, so much. And out of everyone in our family Jeremy was the one who was the most slow when it came to adapting to such. That was why writing to me instead of talking had been so hard, and why Mom and Dad's death had hit him harder than what I believed I grasped. The bad conscience for leaving, and for not returning when it mattered, showed itself as a bite to my insides, but I pushed the sensation aside firmly.
One thing that hadn't and would not change was the fact that I – just like when he'd been in his period of constantly making sex jokes he'd heard from the other idiotic boys at his school as a kid – refused to say anything but exactly what I thought of his immensely dumb doings.
"I heard you're doing drugs," I spoke, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I firmly stared him down. He looked, not so surprisingly, shocked at that blunt putting. "I don't like it," I added. Jeremy mirrored my action, adding a defiant look.
"So? What are you gonna do about it?" Oh! My brother had gotten himself a cocky attitude as well! Honestly, I was kind of a little bit proud about that. Good change.
"Nothing," I stated after a moment of meeting that defiant gaze of his, merely shrugging. Instantly, Jeremy switched his scowl for a questioning look.
"What? So, you're not gonna try and stop me or anything?" he checked, doubtfully.
"Why would I do that, Jer? I doesn't matter what I say. You're still gonna continue screwing up until something makes you realize that drugs are never the way out." I only felt slightly hypocritical with my love for alcohol ringing in the back of my mind. "And when you do–" I poked my finger into his chest to really empathize my words. "–I'll be right here for you." I took a step back, flaring my arms out a bit. "But until then, I'm not gonna do anything." He looked at me, both surprised and confused, until…
"Whatever." Jeremy shrugged, leaving me and the kitchen the same way he'd come, typing away on his phone.
Well. I'd say that went pretty good. And I didn't even touch the whole Vicki subject Elena and Jenna had filled me in on as well.
Just a nice little reunion.
From upstairs, his door was slammed shut, hard enough to rattle the pictures against the walls around the room.
Or, well, it was a work in progress.
Sitting back down with a sigh, I didn't have to rub my temples for much longer before Elena came home.
Her worked up state was obvious from the moment she sat her foot inside the house, but when I asked her about it she merely shrugged and mumbled something about how it was complicated. Like I said, weird behavior. Just like Stefan's.
Sadly for me, my sister couldn't offer me a good excuse to get out of going to the event that night, instead waving me towards a nurse costume she'd worn to the same party last year. I took one look at it, scrunched my nose, and went to try and throw together something more appealing from the rest of her closet.
Gathering an outfit from the black clothing she owned, I kept my own black, high-waisted jeans on, adding a nice, black, long-sleeved top with a boat neck from Elena. Combining this with using water and gel to slick back the roots of my hair, I added a pair of cat ears to actually turn the outfit into a costume, finishing off everything with my favorite, beloved, old black boots. And voilà! You might have been able to take me for Catwoman! Or something. Whatever. It was a high school Halloween party! Who the hell cared if my costume was believable or not.
Not able to help herself, even in her stress, Elena forced some eyeliner onto my eyelids, enhancing the cat look. Once she finished, I said, jokingly:
"You know what? I should have dressed up as a vampire instead! Much easier to put together." Elena, regarding her work with the her forehead creased in concentration, instantly bolted upright – just avoiding to screw up the line she'd drawn along my eye – with a horrified expression on her face. I took careful note to it.
As if it had suddenly hit her, she looked at me with her brown eyes gaping. "You're going to the party at school?"
"Well, duh!" I answered and dragged my hand over my now straight, slicked back, dark hair. The smooth sensation was unfamiliar, since my usual waves mostly flew wherever they so pleased, refusing to be tamed. "What did you think I needed a costume for?" Elena didn't answer, she just kept staring at me with her mouth hanging open, struggling for words.
"But… Why? It's a high school thing, you hate those!" Her voice was nearly hysterical.
"Elena, calm down!" I shot right back at her near hysteria. "What is going on?" As she only shook her head, I sighed and answered her question. "Yeah, I do hate them, but Matt asked me. Sounded like he could use some company…" Turning away from my sister and her horrified face to the mirror behind me, I applied some dark lipstick onto my lips. Whilst doing so, my eye caught the picture stuck to a corner of the mirror.
It was a photo showing my mom hugging Elena and Jeremy, my dad and I surrounding the group with our arms spread wide and chins placed on either Mom's head or her arm. It was taken from above, and we all stood there, smiling in a happy little circle. Actually, I remembered that occasion quite well, and how long we had struggled to get that care-free image since both of my parents had been pretty angry at me after having picked me up at the station only a few hours earlier.
"Matt's going too?" my sister exclaimed, nearly dropping the eyeliner.
"Yes," I replied and sat the lipstick down, eyeing her in the mirror with a frown. "Seriously, Elena. What's going on?" She avoided my questioning gaze in the mirror, so I turned around and looked at her directly instead. Squirming, she moved towards the bathroom, but I shot up and blocked her path with my arm, pinning her to the spot with a stern look. "Elena…?" I pushed.
"It's nothing!" she assured, a nervous trembling to her voice. I only crossed my arms, and finally she released a shaky sigh.
"I've got it covered, okay?" She tried to move around me.
"No." I sidestepped her. "Not okay."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you!" Elena exclaimed, frustration permeating her voice.
"Try me." I firmly stood my ground and continued to stare her down.
For a brief moment, it seemed as if she was about to give in and tell me. However, the moment was gone when we both heard the front door close with a bang downstairs; my sister flinching by the sound, whilst I didn't even move a muscle. Instantly, Elena ran towards the window as I went through the adjacent bathroom that also connected to Jeremy's room, a suspicion already forming.
"Jeremy just..." Elena's panting words faded as she saw me stand and look into his empty bedroom.
"He bailed," I declared and turned away from the unmade bed.
"He must have gone to the party. Oh, no…" Elena shook her head, backing away to begin pacing around. Then, suddenly, she lunged for her phone on her nightstand. Now I was seriously worried.
"Elena–" I tried, for like the millionth time.
"He can't see Vicki! Okay?" my sister blurted out, looking at me with pleading eyes. "Please, Parks. Just… Just trust me on this one." She squeezed her phone between her palms, her knuckles nearly white by the action, as if she was begging me. A little reluctantly, I nodded.
"Fine. But just this once! And I want an explanation later," I told her, strictly.
"Yes! Of course." Elena instantly began typing in a number and left the room to make a call, whilst my mind quickly went through the situation and its aspects.
Where would Jer go to – undoubtedly – meet Vicki? Off the top of my head, one certain place came to mind. What better suited location existed than one dark and filled with a crowd of drunk teenagers for the night?
"He's at the school," I stated as soon as Elena returned, instantly brushing past her to hurry down the stairs. Quickly, I heard her follow.