Step 3: The Rescue

My second day of school was no less confusing than the first. Apparently some dance was being thrown the upcoming weekend and everyone seemed totally into it. At my old school people rarely showed up to dances if the student council even bothered to put them on. This was a change for me, school spirit. I wasn't sure if I liked it or it scared me.

Elena was nice enough to hang out with me in our shared classes. She even sat with me at lunch and introduced me to her friend, Bonnie. Both girls were nice and giggly about the dance, looking forward to dressing up and going. They invited me to tag along if I was so inclined. When I begged off, saying I didn't have anything to wear, they offered up help in that department as well. Unwilling to ruffle any feathers or offend either girl I agreed to let them help me and I would go with them to the dance. That seemed to please them both and from the looks they were giving me, I suddenly felt like a very short Barbie doll.

Now, I am not complaining. I was blessed that two nice girls befriended me so quickly on my first few days in a new town. I don't want you to get me wrong and I think I was ungrateful. I just wasn't sure how I felt about a decade dance and dressing up in hippie 60s clothes. Did I mention before that I think my parents were hippies?

After school we went to Elena's and raided the attic for suitable clothing. We found two dresses that weren't totally terrible and Bonnie promised to do my hair on the evening of the dance. That settled, we went our separate ways; Elena to Stefan's, Bonnie and I to our respective houses. Semi-interesting second day of school.

It was starting to get dark out as I unlocked the front door to my house. It was obvious that both my parents hadn't been home yet. Great, that meant Layla, our dog, was starving and needed to go for a walk. I was greeted by a wagging tail and a lick to the face that about knocked me on my butt when our 75 pound Pitt Bull heard me come in. Great watch dog, that one, not a bark or a growl, just love love love!

I hooked up her leash, locked the door behind me and decided to head to the park. There are a few things of note here. First, Layla is a Pitt. She scares people when they look at her. It's comical really because the dog would as soon lick you as bite you. She loves people. It's also worthy of note that a short, fairly tiny girl walking a big Pitt Bull is an amusing site. Our dog doesn't pull me down the street, she walks next to me, but people still get out of our way like I am walking a tiger or something. People really need to have more open minds.

Another thing I want to mention is that previous to this day I am discussing, Layla and I went on walks on back country roads. There was nothing but dirt and corn and fields of grass for miles. Sometimes I'd use a leash, sometimes I wouldn't. She was allowed to run up ahead of me or out in the fields as she pleased- we were in the country with no one around for miles so I was never worried about her getting hurt or lost.

Mystic Falls was a little different. There weren't really open fields or dirt roads to walk my dog on. I had two choices: the sidewalks of the neighborhoods or the park. I chose the park, simply because I hadn't seen it yet. Once we got inside the perimeter, however, I wasn't impressed. It was maybe three city blocks long and half that wide. Layla and I could probably walk the whole thing in less than 20 minutes. I was about to turn and try the sidewalks thinking at least there'd be more distance to cover, when Layla did a very dog thing to do. She chased a squirrel.

Layla loves squirrels. I don't think she would know what to do with one if she ever caught one but her joy in life is chasing fuzzy tails until they run up trees. Usually on a leash she is really good but this night, maybe it was the new environment or maybe because she had been cooped up all day in that house, but for whatever the reason, Layla was off, chasing a squirrel, jerking the leash right out of my hand.

At first all I could do was stand and stare after my dog, jaw dropped in disbelief that she would take off like that. Then I realized that I couldn't see her any more; that her brindle self was blending in perfectly with the now pitch black trees in the park. The lighting was terrible and not helpful at all in figuring out which way Layla went. My heart sank into my toes as I realized I lost my dog.

Now you are probably asking yourself what this has to do with vampires or Damon and Stefan hotness. It will pertain, trust me. It's coming up shortly.

I started walking around the park calling to my stupid pet. I didn't have food or treats or anything to lure her back to me; I was going on blind trust and faith that she wouldn't go very far from me and come back when the squirrel was up a tree. What I didn't notice was that the door to The Grill had opened and closed leaving a rowdy bunch of drunk guys near the entrance to the park. My guess is they heard me calling for my dog.

If they had known my dog was a Pitt Bull, maybe things would have been different. As it was, it ended up not mattering what type of dog Layla was; she jumped in on the action way too late. The guys approached me, asking from afar what I was doing, who I was looking for. Not being a total moron I told them I was looking for my dog and I didn't need their help, thank you very much. Being that I wasn't intimidating in the least they continued to approach me. My heart jumped from my toes to my throat when I recognized I was alone in a dark park with no one in sight to help me and four plastered dudes were quickly closing in. This might be trouble.

I kept calling for Layla, hoping she'd show up and save the day. These guys would have to back off if they saw her, right? That was my hope. Yet, when one grabbed my arm my hopes were dashed and reality came crashing down. These guys were going to try and hurt me.

I did the only thing I could think of: I screamed my head off. I yelled at them to get off me, I yelled for help, I called for my dog, I just babbled in yelling format. I also struggled and moved around, making myself as hard as possible to hold onto. All I can recall were grabbing hands and hateful words from the four of them.

Then there were three. I think it startled the guys more than me but a hole opened up in the circle that was around me all of a sudden. One of the guys had literally disappeared before our eyes. I was aware enough to take advantage of that moment of shock; I shoved the heel of my palm directly up the nose of the guy who had my arm. When he buckled over in pain I brought up my knee into his face and he fell over, hurt or unconscious, I wasn't sure which.

When I whirled to face the other guys, there was only one standing and he looked terrified. Layla had a hold of his pant leg and some other guy in a leather jacket stepped forward and punched him in the face. He fell to the ground without a whimper. Layla barked at him then trotted over to sit by me, looking all proud of herself. I resisted the urge to yell at her for running off and showing up to save me almost too late. Instead, I looked at the guy who really did rescue me.

Damon Salvatore. Yep, that's right folks. A very angry, seething Damon stood in front of me, glaring at the 4 bodies on the ground. He didn't even glance at me; he seemed to be sizing up whether or not any of the boys were going to get back on their feet any time soon.

I've already proven that I am a person of brilliant conversation skills; my first word in this situation was, "Damon?" even though I already knew the answer.

He whirled on his heel and finally looked at me. Quite the conversation artist himself he replied with a "hey." He looked me up and down and the anger slowly left his eyes. "You alright?"

I took mental stock of myself; my arm felt bruised from where the guy grabbed me, my knee was throbbing from connecting with the guy's skull, and I might have twisted my ankle at one point but considering what could have happened I nodded my answer. "I'm ok."

"Good, I'll walk you home."

"Shouldn't we call the police?" Damon seemed irritated by my question but he pulled out his phone. He had a brief conversation with a Sherriff Forbes then shoved his phone back in his jacket pocket.

"Done. Let's go." Damon began walking.

"Shouldn't I wait to-"

He grabbed my arm firmly but gently and stared into my eyes. He was doing that thing again, where it seemed like he wanted to see beyond my outsides, probing for my soul with his beauteous eyes. After a breath he exhaled slowly. "We're not waiting, it's okay. We're getting you home." He began leading me out of the park.

As we hit the sidewalk he glanced over at me. "What were you doing?"

"Walking my dog." I responded, giving him a weird look as I motioned at Layla.

"She didn't show up until after everything was over." He pointed out.

"She ran off." I shrugged. "I was looking for her."

"Alone. In the park. After dark." He gave me a rather fatherly, disbelieving look. I frowned at him.

"You make it sound as though I meant for that to happen. Layla doesn't typically run off. And no one messes with a girl and her Pitt Bull." I pouted a little bit, not liking that he thought I was dumb.

I could practically hear his eyes roll he was so exasperated with me. "It's a good thing I was headed to The Grill. I don't typically go on Tuesday nights. Mystic Falls can be pretty dead at night. People don't like to go out after dark." He seemed to be talking to himself as much as he was talking to me in that moment. I think he was realizing what he was saying, while he was saying it, but I can't be sure. You never know what that guy is actually thinking.

"Good thing." I agreed with his first statement. "Thank you for coming to my rescue. It was kind of you."

He gave me a strange look. "Kind? I heard you scream, I came to help. Anyone would have done the same, kind or not."

I shook my head. "You hear stories of people just walking by, not wanting to get involved, not wanting to deal with what's happening right in front of them. It was kind of you to get involved."

"Stop calling me kind." He replied gruffly with a hint of anger. It was my turn to give him a weird look. He caught it and pressed his lips together. "I'm not a hero."

I replied with my own wry smile. "Not a hero. My hero!" I gave it some over dramatic emphasis and grabbed his arm so that he was escorting me down the street. He looked perturbed but didn't respond or pull away. We were at my house anyway, so he didn't have to put up with me for long.

"Thanks for walking me home. Quite the gentleman tonight, Damon Salvatore." I put a teasing tone in my voice so he wouldn't be offended. I couldn't imagine why a guy wouldn't want to be called a gentleman or a hero but this Damon guy was apparently hell bent on being the bad guy. I had noticed that yesterday. Yet the guy couldn't be all bad; he did go out of his way to save me this evening.

"Good night, Avvy. Try to be safer. And smarter." His grin seemed genuine. I returned it. This guy might be a weirdo, but I liked him.