I finished my first editing job, you guys! So now I can work on fanfiction without the nagging guilt that I should be editing. Anyway, here's the new chapter. I even dragged my lovely beta, AnglcDmn, out of bed to have a look at it so that I could post it this morning. :P Enjoy!

Elena didn't think she'd ever wished so badly that she didn't have to be at school. Everywhere she went on Monday, she felt like she was standing in a spotlight. Every freshman and sophomore girl's eyes were glued to her as she walked the halls between classes, and they were either whispering to their friends or they had their phones out texting. Even a few of the junior and senior girls were intrigued enough by the breakup of two lowly underclassmen to turn their heads her way, and she got the evil eye from some of Matt's friends from the football team as well. Didn't these people have anything better to fixate on than her love life?

Girls' night hadn't exactly been the stress-relieving experience Bonnie had wanted it to be for her either. Caroline had seen to that. Elena could've taken Bonnie's gentle ribbing about Damon, tactfully alternated with much longer periods of comforting reassurance that her friendship with Matt would survive in the end—that would have been perfectly fine. But Caroline's enthusiastic demands for details of her encounters with Damon and insistence that she not let things stay platonic (because a guy like that was sure to be snapped up by the first girl who was brave enough to make a move) had been far too much.

Even in the face of all Caroline's badgering, Elena had managed to refrain from telling either of them about Edgar. Somehow, the fact that she and Damon kind of had a pet raven didn't seem like the sort of detail one could reconcile with patterns of mere friendship. Besides, Edgar was special. She didn't want to share him with anyone else.

The thing she had been dreading most about being back at school now that the weekend was over happened on the way to third period—Matt was waiting for her by her locker. She had a fleeting impulse to turn right around and go to Algebra II without her textbook today, but he spotted her before she could decide whether or not to act on it. She tried not to drag her feet or lower her head as she walked towards him.

"Hey," he said. "I tried to call you."

"I know," said Elena. "I just didn't want to talk about it over the phone."

He looked at her silently, wearing that same heartbreaking expression he'd had on Saturday, though it was mixed with resignation now. "You aren't changing your mind, are you." It wasn't a question.

"No," she said quietly. "You're my best friend, but that's all this can be."

"Then what about the last year?" he said, now sounding bitter. "Why did you ever agree to go out with me?"

"I'm sorry it took me so long to figure things out," said Elena, "but you were so happy, everyone else was so happy for us, and it was really fun going out with you, so it just didn't start sinking in that my feelings aren't the same until a couple of months ago. Even then I tried to fight it."

He swallowed. She watched his Adam's apple move up and down. "Then I guess there really isn't anything I can do to fix it," he said hollowly.

"I'm so sorry, Matt," said Elena. She wanted to hug him, but she doubted he would appreciate it right now.

X

College campuses were some of Damon's favorite hunting grounds. The students were always so preoccupied with getting to their classes that they never noticed when one of their fellows peeled off and followed him around the back of a building, and they were all so sleep-deprived that it seemed perfectly normal when his leftovers rejoined the populous a little more sluggish and several shades paler than usual. There was something particularly satisfying about hunting on this campus. The place where he'd once been a prisoner for five years. The members of that society were all long dead, and the children's children of the man who'd led it were still paying for those sins.

He strolled over to the bulletin boards in the middle of the quad at Whitmore College and waited. Class was in session at the moment, so all the walkways of campus were mostly deserted. If he tried his patented snatch-eat-erase technique now, it'd be too conspicuous. Instead, he pulled out his phone, remembering that he still hadn't used the knowledge that Stefan had been in town last Friday against him. To his annoyance, the call merely went to voicemail after four rings. Stefan was probably out hunting squirrels or something away from his phone.

After a few more minutes, the large clock on top of the main building chimed eleven, and the quad was suddenly flooded with students. Damon glanced casually at the board next to him so he'd look more natural standing there, and one of the many flyers caught his eye.

Big Band Swing Club

Finals Week Shindig

We're ending the semester with a bang!
Take a break from finals and join the Big Band Swing Club
for our biggest bash of the spring!
Come dressed in your best '40s or '50s threads.

Thursday, May 28, 7-11 p.m.
Student Rec Center Gym
$5 admission

A smirk curling over his lips, he snatched the flyer off the board, folded it twice, and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket. Then he turned around to resume his prowling, only for a young woman to come crashing right into him. The large pile of books and papers she was carrying flew out of her arms in every direction and she went pitching over backwards, but Damon caught her easily before she could hit the ground.

"Sorry about that," she said, face flushing red with mortification as Damon set her back on her feet. "I really should pay better attention."

"I don't mind," said Damon, the smirk swiftly returning as he looked her up and down. She had wavy honey-blonde hair, full lips, and large blue eyes—not to mention some lovely curves in her figure. She bent down to gather her things from the ground, and he stooped to help. "Where are you headed?" he asked.

"Dr. Thompson's Psych 101 class," she said. "I'm the T.A. and I get to prowl the rows looking for cheaters during the final."

"I'm headed that way too," said Damon as they stood back up, his hands spread wide as if he was amazed by the coincidence. "Mind if I walk you?"

"Sure," she said, an incredulous grin stealing over her lips and her cheeks reddening slightly, though this time not from embarrassment. She started walking and he followed her lead, employing his quick reflexes to hide the fact that he didn't actually know where her destination was.

"I'm Jenna Sommers, by the way," she said.

"Damon Salvatore," said Damon.

Jenna stopped in her tracks and looked at him with wide eyes, her pulse suddenly going a hundred beats per minute. Damon groaned inwardly. He should have realized. "You're Elena's aunt, aren't you?" he said, still affecting his pleasant air.

The fear on her face transformed at once into protective anger. "Stay away from my niece," she said coldly.

"Now why would I want to do that when your niece is such wonderful company?"

Jenna's eyes darted around the crowded quad. She was likely calculating the odds of him trying anything with so many witnesses around. "How can you be out here in the middle of the day?" she said.

"That," said Damon as he started walking again, "is for me to know and you, your sister, and your brother-in-law to pointlessly obsess over."

"What are you doing on this campus?" she demanded, hurrying to keep up with him.

"So many questions. Maybe I'm just here to learn."

Her eyes widened again. "You're looking for someone to bite, aren't you?" she hissed.

"Oh, I already found someone to bite," said Damon, flaring his eyes at her and relishing the sight of her swallowing nervously. "But since I'm fairly certain you're on vervain, it seems I will be forced to select a different vintage." He glanced around at the students going past them in every direction.

Fear flared up in Jenna's scent again, but when she spoke, she sounded furious. "You're not coming to my school and preying on the students."

"Was that a threat?" said Damon with an incredulous laugh.

"No, but this is," said Jenna, turning to face him directly. "If I catch you anywhere near here again, I'll see to it that vervain finds its way into all the drinking fountains on campus."

The next second, Damon's hand was clamped around her throat and he was slamming her against the side of a building. Her books and papers spilled out of her arms again as she struggled fruitlessly against his grip. She talked a big game, but it was obvious that she was a rookie at this stuff. She hadn't even noticed that he was leading her onto a deserted walkway where the view was blocked by trees, so there were no longer any witnesses.

"Just because I can't bite you doesn't mean I can't kill you," he said through fangs, his nose an inch away from hers. "But since you're Elena's aunt, I'll give you a free pass, so long as you stay out of my way." He released her and vanished before she could try his patience any further.

X

Miranda was in the middle of arranging an event for the historical society when she received a call from Jenna. "Excuse me for just a moment, Carol," she said to the Mayor's wife, "I need to take this."

"Of course," said Carol with a tight smile that did not conceal her impatience. All the same, Miranda smiled back and touched her arm before walking out of the Lockwoods' sitting room into the entrance hall.

"What is it, Jenna?" she asked after accepting the call.

"You'll never guess who I just ran into on campus," said Jenna. She sounded slightly out of breath.

"Who, Sheila?" said Miranda, frowning.

"No, and I tried going to her office like you asked, but she wasn't there. I think getting a hold of her during finals week might be a tall order, but I'll keep trying. But no, it was Damon Salvatore."

"What?!" said Miranda, much more loudly than she intended. She glanced around to make sure nobody was coming out to check on her, then hurriedly exited the house through the front doors and walked out onto the sprawling porch. "What was he doing there? And how was he outside in broad daylight?"

"I have no idea about the daylight thing, but as far as I could tell, he didn't have a bigger agenda than finding someone to feed on," said Jenna. She heaved a slightly shrill sigh that caused a burst of static on Miranda's end, and she seemed a little hysterical when she spoke again. "Miranda, I never thought I'd be glad to know the truth about all this stuff, but I really think I might be dead right now if I still had no idea what was going on."

"Oh, honey," said Miranda, clutching the phone tightly, wishing she could wrap her arms around her baby sister. "You made it through, and that's what matters."

"He said the only reason he wasn't going to kill me is that I'm Elena's aunt."

"Then he does want something with her," said Miranda, her worst fears confirmed.

"Look," said Jenna, her voice much steadier now. "I know I said I wanted to stay at Whitmore over the summer and let you and Grayson deal with all this without me, but I've changed my mind. If that monster is after Elena, then I'll come home. I'll do whatever you need me to do to help keep her safe."

"Easy there," said Miranda. "Just remember that even though you're a Sommers, we spell it with an 'o' and your first name isn't Buffy."

Jenna laughed. "I know, thanks."

"But I'm glad you're coming home," Miranda went on. "I'd rather have you close by. For now, though, the best thing you can do to help is to keep trying with Sheila Bennett."

"I will," said Jenna. "I've gotta go, though; I'll be late for Thompson's final."

X

Elena picked morosely at her lunch. She was sitting at the end of the table occupied by the junior varsity cheerleading squad across from a quietly sympathetic Bonnie. Caroline was holding court in the middle of the table, as usual, but neither of them was participating in the other girls' conversation. About a third of the way through the lunch period, Elena's phone buzzed. She set down her half-eaten slice of pizza and picked it up.

"Well, I think I can guess who that's from," Bonnie muttered into her milk carton when Elena immediately perked up. She kept her voice low so that Tiki and Dana sitting next to them wouldn't hear.

Elena could feel herself blushing, but Bonnie's remark couldn't reverse the effects of the new text from Damon.

"Last chance to forfeit our contest with your dignity intact, Gilbert."

"Why would I want to do that?" she typed.

"Because I just found us a swing ball. Thursday night, 7:00, at Whitmore College."

Forgetting the audience of gossipy cheerleaders to her right, Elena let out an audible gasp of delight. Tiki and Dana immediately looked around at her, and Caroline leaned forward so she could see her from her spot three seats over. "Sorry," said Elena, casting around wildly for a cover story that would get all the eyes off her. Nothing occurred to her, but Bonnie came to the rescue.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she said. "See you guys later."

Elena got up as well, and thankfully no one else followed them. Still, she cringed when she thought she heard the words "Matt" and "breakup" come out of Caroline's mouth just before she was actually out of earshot. Once she and Bonnie were in the hall outside the cafeteria, she handed over her phone so Bonnie could read the text chat. She watched Bonnie's face closely for her reactions as she read, and was gratified when she saw her lips twitch in amusement.

"Okay," said Bonnie, passing the phone back, "if you seriously don't want to date this guy, then I think I might."

Elena shot her an indignant look.

"Don't give me that," said Bonnie. "From everything you've told me about him and all those chats you've shown me, he sounds like a really fun guy. And you two constantly flirt already, and this whole competition thing sounds like a really thin cover story one of you is telling yourself so you can spend all this time together without admitting you're dating."

"No, Bonnie, come on," said Elena, a bit of a whine in her voice. "We're just friends. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Enough times to convince yourself, maybe?" said Bonnie, eyebrows raised knowingly. Elena didn't respond to this, so Bonnie went on. "Look, you and Matt didn't work because you were friends who tried too hard to date. Maybe for you and Damon, it's the other way around and just being friends is what won't work."

"Even if you're right," said Elena, "I'm going to keep trying to just be his friend at least until it's been enough time since I broke up with Matt that it wouldn't be weird. And hopefully until I can convince my parents that they're being paranoid and ridiculous about him." She looked down. "And until I'm absolutely sure he doesn't see his dead ex when he looks at me," she finished quietly.

Bonnie reached out and laid a comforting hand on her arm. "Do you get the feeling that he does when you're around him now?"

"Not really," said Elena, shrugging. "But I wonder. He's definitely not over her."

X

Elena was sitting down in her next class when she realized that she still hadn't confirmed with Damon that she could go to the dance. Her French teacher, Madame Baillie, was strict about cell phones in class, but there were still a few minutes before the bell, so she was willing to risk it.

"I'd love to go, even if it takes me months to catch you up on points. Only thing is, I don't actually know how to swing dance."

She didn't expect a quick reply, especially as she hadn't given one herself, but her phone was buzzing with his next text within seconds anyway. "Well if you come over to my place tomorrow, I can fix that."

Elena grinned and bit her lip. The tardy bell was going to ring any moment now, so she quickly typed, "Okay, I'll see you after I get out of school tomorrow." She hit "send" and dropped her phone back into her bag just as Madame Baillie said "Bonjour, classe!"

"Bonjour, madame!" she chorused along with the rest of the students.

X

Elena normally stayed late after school, hanging out with her friends and getting help from her teachers when she needed it, so she knew her mom wouldn't ask questions as long as she was home in time for dinner. On Tuesday, therefore, she left as quickly as she could and drove straight to the Salvatore boarding house. She parked next to Damon's car, which now sat in the driveway, and walked up to the oversized front door. A few seconds after she knocked, Damon opened it.

"Hey," she said, smiling.

"Hey back," said Damon, flashing his trademark smirk. He stepped aside so she could enter, which she did, looking around eagerly at her new surroundings.

"So is today the day I get the tour?" she asked.

"If you want it to be," he said, shutting the door.

"Well, you can either show me around in person, or I'll just wait until you take a bathroom break and go exploring on my own. It's up to you."

"Guided tour it is," he said, amused. He swept a hand out towards the rest of the house. "This way, ladies and gentlemen."

"I hope I didn't park in your uncle's spot," said Elena as she followed him further into the house.

"Doesn't matter," said Damon. "He won't be back until later."

The whole place had rich, dark wood paneling on the walls, which was interrupted here and there with a heavily laden bookcase. The furniture was antique, the hardwood floors were covered in elegant rugs, and there was a strong color theme of crimson and brown. It looked incredible. Damon led Elena from the front hall into a vast room with a vaulted ceiling, an enormous fireplace, and a balcony where the second floor looked out over it.

"This is your living room?" she gasped. Her gaze was drawn to the paintings on the walls, all of which appeared to be originals. She couldn't imagine how much they must have cost.

"Living room, parlor—for today's purposes, ballroom," said Damon, sounding like he was too used to all the grandeur to be particularly impressed.

"I feel like I just walked into the nineteen twenties or something," said Elena.

"Nineteen teens," Damon corrected, "but I can see how you could make that mistake."

"I'm surprised this place isn't always full of customers," said Elena, leaving his side to explore the room a bit. "It's way better than any hotel I've ever seen."

"I guess most people get a creepy vibe from it for some reason," said Damon. "But of course you'd be the exception, O tamer of ravens." Elena rolled her eyes at him. He smirked and waved her back over. "Come on, I'll show you the library."

They made their way gradually through all the rooms on the ground floor. After the library, he showed her the kitchen, dining room, study, and sitting room.

"Do you play?" Elena asked, gesturing at the magnificent grand piano in one corner of the sitting room.

"Not often," said Damon. "It probably needs to be tuned."

He headed back towards the parlor and she followed. "Any chance I'll get to hear you play sometime?" she asked hopefully.

"Maybe," he said. "If you're very, very lucky." He walked over to a cabinet that housed an impressive vinyl collection.

"So," she said, getting down to business. "I'm guessing you've swing danced before, if you can give me a private lesson."

"I've done every dance invented since the Civil War," said Damon matter-of-factly. But then he made a face. "Well, disco and hip-hop, not so much." He pulled out several records and moved to a record player that looked nearly as old as the house itself. "You'd think they'd have come up with something better than that to follow swing." He shook his head in disgust and dropped a record onto the turntable.

Elena giggled. "You say that like you were there when it happened. Why did you learn so many dances, anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, lowering the needle and catching one of her hands to spin her into him as the first few jazzy notes played. "I did it to impress the ladies."

"Good strategy," Elena chuckled. Before their proximity could start wreaking havoc with her insides, she pushed a hand against his chest to put some distance between them. "Okay, so what am I supposed to be doing with my feet?"

"Quite a lot," said Damon. "I'm going to show you at least four different steps."

"Bring it on," said Elena. "If I can make the varsity cheerleading squad, I can learn this."

"Well okay then," said Damon. "First there's the Charleston step…."

He spent the next half-hour showing her touch-steps, triple-steps, and kick-ball changes, and then how to improvise with them, all while the record player kept playing music from the likes of Glenn Miller and the Andrews sisters. The rhythm of the music made the dancing come almost naturally. Once she had the steps down, they started adding some flare to the dancing, including dips, jumps, and spins. It was fast-paced enough and the music was lively enough that even though she was alone with Damon in this huge house, Elena never felt overwhelmed like she had when she'd tried to kiss him on her couch at home. In fact, they were laughing and joking and having such a good time dancing all around the parlor that she was shocked when she caught sight of a grandfather clock and realized that it was already after five.

"Crap!" she said. "I have to go! Dinner's at six!"

"Your parents haven't changed their minds, have they?" said Damon.

"Nope," said Elena grumpily. "And they still won't tell me why, either."

"But you still don't care," he said, smirking.

"I can make my own decisions," said Elena. "You haven't given me any reason not to trust you, so until my parents trust me with their reasons, you're stuck with me." From his expression, her implication that she trusted him seemed to surprise him a great deal, though he wasn't displeased. This only hardened her resolve not to sever the acquaintance even more.

A second later, his smirk was back. "Stuck with you, huh?" he said as she grabbed her purse off the couch where she'd dropped it.

"Yep," she said. "So I'll see you on Thursday?"

"Five thirty sharp," he said. "Takes two hours to get there, but the first half hour of a dance is always boring anyway. Just tell me where I should pick you up to not blow your cover."

Elena smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He blinked down at her, looking baffled. "I know I already told you my stance on beautiful girls kissing me," he said, "but what was that for?"

"For the dance lesson," said Elena sweetly, clasping her hands together behind her back. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

He grinned. "Well, in that case," he said as they started moving towards the door, "I can't wait to see how you reward me after we spend Thursday night showing up all the college kids."

"Bye, Damon," said Elena, rolling her eyes while still smiling—an increasingly familiar combination where he was concerned—and trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she left the boarding house.

She was in trouble. The shaky ground on which her determination to keep things platonic between them rested seemed to have eroded away completely while they danced together. As soon as she was in her car, she pulled out her phone. She would call Bonnie first, then Caroline. She had made up her mind, but she was going to need help if her plan would succeed.

X

Grayson had just gotten out of his last appointment on Wednesday morning and was about to go out on his lunch break when his secretary caught him at the door. "Dr. Gilbert," she said, "There's a Sheila Bennett asking to speak with you on line two. Should I tell her to call back later?"

"No, I'll take the call," he said. "Thank you, Laura. You can go ahead and take your lunch now; I'll watch the phones for you."

"Yes, sir," she said.

As soon as she was out the door, Grayson went into his office and picked up the phone. "Sheila," he said. "I'm glad to hear from you."

"Your sister-in-law just cornered me on the way out of a thesis defense committee. What's this about, Grayson?"

"Damon Salvatore is back in Mystic Falls," he said.

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" said Sheila. "Damon Salvatore might be a vampire, but he's been protecting my family since eighteen sixty-five. I don't enjoy being in his debt, but if you expect me to go against him, you'd better have a damn good reason."

"We think he's after Elena," said Grayson.

There was a pause. "Are you sure?"

"No," he said. "But I want to be."

Sheila sighed heavily. "I always knew Mikael wouldn't be the last of that sweet child's troubles. What do you need?"

"I would just stake him myself and be done with it, but there could be more of them. His brother, more Originals—I don't know. We need to find out who else we're dealing with."

"Mmhm. Well, tomorrow evening after five o'clock is the soonest I can help you get information out of vampires, but I have one condition."

"Name it."

"You and your family have always known about us Bennett witches, and I believe that goes all the way back to Emily Bennett and Johnathan Gilbert."

"It does. And if Johnathan had gotten his way, she never would have burned."

"Then you might be able to help me recover Emily's spellbook. It's been missing since her death, but there's a chance it wasn't destroyed."

"Done," said Grayson at once. "Miranda and I will meet you outside the Salvatore boarding house tomorrow at five fifteen."

"I'll see you then."

X

It was Thursday morning, and Damon lay sprawled over one of the leather couches in the parlor, rereading Call of the Wild for about the dozenth time. He couldn't think of when he'd been in a better mood. Zach had suddenly remembered an endless list of "errands" he had to run, despite the boarding house now being mysteriously closed to guests until further notice (even the maid had stopped showing up to clean), which meant that there were only so many legitimate items he could have on his to-do list. Damon found it all highly amusing. He had also been dining very well the past few days, specifically on sorority girls from Whitmore College, now to spite Jenna Sommers on top of the satisfaction he already got from using his former prison as his current feeding grounds. And last but not least, there were his plans with Elena for the evening.

He'd forgotten how good it could be to have a friend. He was going to miss their banter once her parents finally clued her in properly and she started towing the Gilbert family line.

All of a sudden, he heard music start playing from the direction of his bedroom. "Teenage wasteland! It's only teenage wasteland. Teenage wasteland! Oh yeah…"

"What the—?" said Damon, perplexed. But then he remembered. "Oh, right. Stefan's ringtone." He'd forgotten about picking "Baba O'Riley" for that. He'd done it years ago, as soon as personalized ringtones became a thing, but this was the first time Stefan had actually called him.

He marked his page and vamp-sped up to his room, where he picked up his phone off his nightstand. "Hello, brother," he said.

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Damon?"

"The one and only."

"You're the one who called me the other day?"

"Yep," said Damon. "I was hurt when you didn't answer. Were you too busy holding funerals for all the Bambis you've killed lately to keep track of your missed calls?"

"Why did you call me? It's been fifteen years since we had any contact, Damon. I don't even know how you have my number to begin with."

"I have my sources. And as to why I called, a little birdie told me you were in good old Mystic Falls last Friday, which is a staggering coincidence, because that happens to be where I've been ever since."

"What?"

"Well, okay, the bird wasn't all that little."

"What are you doing in Mystic Falls?" said Stefan, his voice rising as he lost patience. This was just too much fun.

"Why is everyone so interested in what I'm up to?" said Damon flippantly. "You, Zach, various grad students. Honestly, it's getting a little intrusive."

"Answer me!" Stefan shouted.

"Why so paranoid, Stefan? Can't a guy visit his hometown every other decade without raising so many questions?"

"Every time you go to Mystic Falls, people die there! Last time it was Zach's pregnant girlfriend and about a dozen boarders, and in the fifties it was four people, including Joseph!"

"Ah, Joseph," said Damon nostalgically. He had no idea who the other three people were, but he had most definitely killed Joseph. Traitorous, greedy bastard. His death had been much too quick for what Damon had endured because of him. "You know, these last few generations of Salvatores have been incredibly unwelcoming. I blame Dad's genes."

"If you do anything to Zach—"

"You'll what?" Damon sneered. "We both know that as long as you're on the bunny diet, you're all bark and no bite—and even the bark part is pretty pathetic—, but that if you bulk up on the human blood, it would only make you more likely than me to kill dear little Zach. Besides, threats work better in person, even when they're the idle kind."

"Please, Damon, just tell me what you're doing there."

"What I should be doing is looking for something to wear this evening. You don't mind if I raid your closet, do you? If one of us still has anything from the fifties, it definitely isn't me."

"Why, do you have a hot date or something?" said Stefan flatly.

"Hot, yes. Date, no. I mean, really, she could even give Katherine a run for her money in the looks department, but we're just friends."

"You don't have friends. Who is this girl and what are you doing with her?"

"Let's see. The highlight reel includes bird watching, The Princess Bride, and swing dancing," said Damon. He knew Stefan wouldn't believe him and would automatically assume the worst instead, which was somehow even funnier when he meant no harm. At this rate, Stefan would be back in Mystic Falls before the week was out to try to protect the innocent townsfolk from his wrath, which was absolutely fine by Damon. Between having fun with Elena and messing with Stefan's head, comet day would be here in no time at all.

"Well, it's been great catching up, baby bro," he said before Stefan could say anything else, "but I really do need to go find that outfit." With that, he hung up, even though he had no intention of wearing anything but his normal clothes to this dance. He'd already lived through that era; he didn't need to revisit it with his wardrobe.

X

"What do you think?" said Elena, emerging from Bonnie's bathroom for what felt like the hundredth time and doing a little spin, making the skirt of her dress flare out around her. This one was a dark burgundy '50s halter-style swing dress with little black polka dots. It hit her just below the knees, and together with a pair of black flats that would give her no trouble on a dance floor, it was probably her favorite outfit of the many she'd tried.

"I love it," said Bonnie.

"I don't know," said Caroline dubiously. "It's cute and fifties-y, but if you're really planning to grab this guy at the end of the dance and kiss him, then shouldn't you wear something sexier that'll really get his attention?"

"Caroline, the point isn't to draw all the attention to my appearance. I happen to look just like his ex, so being flashy could backfire. I just want to be cute and in theme and have fun with him like I have been since we met. I want to feel like me, not some ghost from his past."

"But you do want to kiss him?" Caroline pressed. "You're really done with all this obviously in denial 'just friends' talk?"

"Yes," said Elena. "It's been almost a whole week since I broke up with Matt—which had nothing to do with wanting to be with Damon instead, by the way, because I actually meant that 'just friends' talk and I already knew things weren't working with Matt before I even met Damon."

"If you say so," said Caroline, holding up her hands.

"So is that the dress, then?" said Bonnie.

"Yeah, it is," said Elena, doing another twirl. She loved the way the skirt billowed when she spun, which would be even more fun on a dance floor with Damon.

"Okay, then let's do the hair," said Bonnie, and the three girls went back into the bathroom together. Caroline hopped up on the counter to watch and Elena sat down on a stool while Bonnie went to work with a curling iron.

"You know, since Damon is older than high school age," said Elena, "if I start dating him, it doesn't have to be gossip fodder, because nobody will see us together at school." She looked pointedly at Caroline.

"Aw, come on! You mean I have to keep this a secret?" she whined. "It's such a good story!"

"But you know it'll get back around to Matt," said Bonnie, "and I'm sure Elena doesn't want to rub it in his face that she's already moving on when it's probably going to take him much longer."

"But what if knowing that she's moving on is exactly what he needs to help him move on too?" said Caroline. "Isn't it better to rip off the Band-aid in case he's still holding out hope?"

"I think I did enough Band-aid ripping with the way I broke up with him," said Elena. "I don't want Matt getting any wrong ideas about why I did it." Caroline opened her mouth again, but Elena talked over her. "And my parents banned me from seeing Damon, remember? So please don't tell anyone, Caroline. I can't risk it getting back to them before I can talk sense into them."

"Okay," said Caroline grudgingly. "But you'd better tell me all the details to make up for forcing me into a vow of silence."

"Deal," said Elena, laughing.

"Whoa, hold still," said Bonnie. "I don't want to burn you."

"Sorry," said Elena, trying to be as statuesque as possible while Bonnie gave the front of her hair that classic fifties wave.

"So do you think it's his age that has your parents all Nazi-like about him?" said Caroline.

"Well that wouldn't be very fair, considering that they started dating when Dad was twenty-four and Mom was still a senior in high school," said Elena. "But no, they were fine with him until I introduced him by name, and then they got all tense, but they still waited until he was actually gone from the house before they full-on freaked out."

"That's weird," said Caroline, frowning. "If they're so anti-Damon, why didn't they just tell him that he couldn't see you? Is he a wanted felon and they're too scared to challenge him directly or something?"

"I'm pretty sure your mom would be involved if he was a wanted felon," said Elena.

"Hey, for all I know, she could be," said Caroline. "It's not like I'm always asking Mom for details about sheriff work."

"He's not a wanted felon," said Elena. "The whole town would know if a founding family member was a wanted felon."

It took Bonnie about ten more minutes to finish Elena's hair. "I wish I was going to this dance," Caroline sighed wistfully as Bonnie was applying a few last touches.

"You could always organize a big band swing club for our school," Bonnie pointed out.

"Don't tempt me," said Caroline. "I'm organizing enough things as it is already."

"There," said Bonnie. "All done."

"Final verdict?" said Elena, standing up and doing one last spin for them.

"You look amazing, Elena. Damon's going to love it."

"I had my doubts about the dress at first, but I think you look fabulous," said Caroline, "and so help me God, I'm going to make sure that one of the decade dances next year is forties or fifties even if I have to kill someone for it. The girls on this year's dance committee were idiots. Thirties and nineties? Really? Depression era and grunge? Ugh! What were they thinking?"

"You still went to both dances, Care," said Bonnie dryly.

"So? Their bad taste in decades is not going to stop me from dancing with hot upperclassmen," said Caroline loftily. "Anyway," she added, flipping open her phone to check the time, "speaking of committees, I need to run. The Mystic Falls Beautification Committee is meeting in half an hour to plan the Fourth of July decorations for Main Street. I'll see you later. Just remember that you promised me details."

"Have fun," said Elena.

"How long do you think she's actually going to be able to keep this a secret?" said Bonnie after Caroline had left the room.

"Hopefully at least a week," said Elena. "If we keep a close eye on her, we might be able to keep her from spilling until school's out, and then word won't be able to travel as fast anyway."

Her phone buzzed where it was sitting on the counter, and she picked it up. The new text was from Damon.

"See you in twenty. I hope you're ready to dance until you drop."

"Oh, I'm ready," she replied. She looked up and grinned at Bonnie.

"You've got it bad, Elena," she said with a bit of a laugh in her voice. "I can't wait to meet this guy."

"You will when he gets here in twenty minutes," said Elena excitedly.

But twenty minutes passed, and there was no sign of Damon's car on the road to Bonnie's house. The girls had moved to sit by the window in the front room so they'd see it as soon as it got close.

"Are you sure you gave him good directions to get here?" asked Bonnie when 5:35 arrived without him.

"Yeah, he said he knew where it was," said Elena. She was starting to get anxious.

"Text him again," said Bonnie. "See what's up."

"Okay." She pulled out her phone. "Hey, everything okay?" she typed. "Your impeccable punctuality record is starting to look a little shaky. :P"

By the time the little clock on the mantel struck a quarter to six, Elena was worried enough to start pacing. "What if something happened to him, Bonnie?" she asked fretfully. "What if he got in a wreck on his way over here?"

"I don't know," said Bonnie. She looked just as worried as Elena felt. "I would say he's probably just standing you up, but I kind of have a really bad feeling."

"What, like, normal bad feeling, or psychic bad feeling?" said Elena. Bonnie had been half-jokingly claiming psychic abilities for a few months now, but it had only ever been little things that could easily be waved off.

In response, Bonnie only gave her a grimly meaningful look.

"I can't take this," said Elena, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "I'm going to the boarding house to make sure he's okay."

"I'm coming too," said Bonnie.

"Wait, what?" said Elena, looking back at her, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

"If everything is okay and he's just a little delayed, I'm still your alibi for this evening," Bonnie reminded her. "I'll drive your car back here and then you and Damon can head off to the dance."

"Good thinking," said Elena.

To their intense relief, they didn't see any signs of a car accident on the drive to the Salvatore boarding house, but they didn't see any signs of his perfectly functional car either. They pulled into the driveway of the boarding house at about 5:55.

"What's my parents' car doing here?" said Elena, frowning at the little gray car parked in the same spot she had used on Tuesday. "Did they find out about tonight?"

"Maybe," said Bonnie. Her eyes were fixed on a different car. "But if they did, then why is Grams's car here too?"

"What?" said Elena. Now that she looked at it, she realized that Bonnie was right. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," said Bonnie. She unbuckled her seatbelt. "But let's go find out."

They both got out of the car and made their way up to the front door, which was a few inches ajar. Bonnie definitely wasn't the only one with a bad feeling now.

Teehee, aren't cliffhangers fun? What are Bonnie and Elena about to walk in on? Here's the dress Elena's wearing in that last scene, by the way: modcloth DOT com SLASH shop SLASH dresses SLASH budding-starlet-dress-in-dots

The chapter title is a reference to an awesome Andrews sisters song. If you're not familiar, go look it up. I think my favorite characters to write in this chapter were Sheila, Caroline, and Jenna, although the bit where Damon taunts Stefan over the phone was probably my favorite scene to write overall. Also, I should mention that I did the math on Grayson and Miranda's ages and realized that they couldn't possibly have been high school sweethearts like I wrote in chapter two. Miranda is eight years older than Jenna, who was 29 in 2009, and Grayson was already a practicing doctor when Elena was born in '92 (when Miranda was 20). The very youngest Grayson could've been when Elena was born was 26, and if he and Miranda had been trying really hard to have kids already, then they probably got married right after Miranda got out of high school and just jumped at the chance to adopt Isobel's baby when John brought her to them two years later. Gah. Timelines. Anyway. I hope you liked the chapter, and please let me know what you thought!