Longest chapter YET!

I honestly couldn't stop writing. I'm not sure if I'm happy about the ending, but whatever. I'm pretty pleased with the rest of it. I hope you lot like it too.

Enjoy!

For Alaric's costume:

.com/costumes/Cowboy-Duster-Coat/0~498808~283

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vampire Diaries or One Tree Hill. I do not own any of the characters except Tari, Liam, Allen and Mr Herman.

xXx

Chapter Ten

It get's scarier

There was no way out.

The flames had her pinned against the wall. Tari tried to call for help, but the smoke choked her – she could only cough. It was so hot. Her skin began to burn and the flames weren't even touching her. Panic began to set in. This is how I die. Oh God this is how I die.

At least I'll see Mom again.

And on the heels of that, she had time to think: I'm sorry Dad. I'm sorry you've had to lose the both of us.

It seemed an agonising amount of time before she saw him. She lifted her head and through the tops of the flames, she saw a face. Narrowing her gaze, she realised that it was Allen. He was still in the same costume, but his beard had fallen off. It was how she recognised him.

At first Tari thought she was imagining him. Strange, how in my last moments I see Allen.

Then it struck her – he was there! He could help her.

She tried to call out for him to get help, but by now there was so much smoke she could barely see let alone speak. She could still see the purple colour of his costume. Why isn't he getting help!

She forced herself to stand – she almost hadn't realised that she'd fallen to her knees – and focussed on him. He was staring at her, at the flames. The gaze was so sombre, so serious that it scared Tari, just a little less than the flames did.

"Allen?" she called cautiously, forgetting everything but the look in his eyes. That's when she realised: she could see him, clearly, and speak! She hectically looked to the ground and saw the flames disappearing right before her eyes. The heat that they had given off had almost decreased, until it finally disappeared when the flames did.

She felt as if she was dreaming. It was hard to explain: one minute the flames were there and you thought these were going to be your final moments and then POOF! Suddenly they were gone again; the alley looked the same as it had done before the fire had started.

Tari wasn't even aware that Allen had moved closer until he felt his hand on her arm. "C'mon," he said, his mouth in her ear. "We need to leave." He pulled her back into the building that Sawyer and Mr Herman had been in as she coughed, her chest feeling as if it was going to explode. In honesty Tari had forgotten all about them – her mind was still filled with the flames.

The building was still empty, to Tari's relief. She collapsed on a wooden crate, catching her breath. "Tari," Allen said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she wheezed before coughing again. "I'm okay."

"You need some water-"

Allen was moving away, but Tari grabbed hold of his robe, instantly stilling him. "I'm fine," she insisted, pleased that she didn't cough. "What happened back there?"

Allen stared at her, silent.

"Those flames – they appeared out of nowhere – and then they disappeared! How- What- How did that even happen?"

Allen was still quiet, his lip in a straight line. Looking at him, Tari noticed that he looked guilty. That thought froze her mind which, in the previous moment, had been teaming with questions. Only one thing ran through it now: he knows something.

"What is it?" Tari asked. "What do you know?"

"You're not going to like it," he said. His voice was quiet, gentle. It almost had a pleading tone to it.

Dredging up her strength she forced herself to stand. "Allen, my life was just in danger. This is serious. I need to know what's going on." She tried to keep her cool, but even she could hear the high-pitched note in her voice.

"You won't believe it."

She crossed her arms. "Trust me, whatever secret you're holding, you can bet I've heard a worse one."

"I'm a warlock."

I'm sorry – WHAT?

xXx

"Oh thank God." Alaric collapsed next to Damon. "I need a drink."

"Aren't you supposed to be babysitting my daughter?" Damon asked.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "Damon, you've already got Elena and Stefan watching out for her. She'll be fine."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

"I never thought you'd be more serious and obsessive than Stefan," Alaric said. He caught the barmaid's attention. "Two glasses of scotch."

Damon finished his last one. "So tell me Teacher, how's my daughter doing?"

"'My daughter?'" Alaric shook his head. "It's going to take me ages to get used to that." He accepted the scotch that the barmaid gave them and took a sip. "Pretty well, actually. We're learning about – well, the Civil War actually," said Alaric with a grin. "Her last paper got an A-."

Damon sat a little straighter. "She did? Why didn't she tell me?"

"Oh relax, you'll be getting a report card."

Damon sighed. "She doesn't tell me anything."

"She's a teenager-"

"Everyone keeps on saying that: 'She's a teenager; she's a girl'. But she's my teenage girl. And I'll admit, I've never been the most involved parent. But when I did visit, she was always attentive and happy and..." He trailed off. Seeing Tari then was like a different girl: she was chatty and laughing, but looking back Damon realised they never talked about anything serious. There relationship had only been skin-deep.

Alaric smiled. "You know the answer Damon."

"Yeah, I do." He sighed again. "She's different because of her mom's death. And I know that spending a few days with her is different from spending full time with her. I just wish she'd throw me a bone or something – at least let me know I'm doing a good job, or even an okay job."

"I think..." Alaric bit his lip. It was going to sound a little mushy, but... "I think you'll know one day. She'll let you know."

They were silent for a moment. "Do you remember when I used to be fun?"

"I remember when you used to be dangerous, yes."

"I used to have a life."

"You never had a life – or rather a safe one."

"What's the point of having a safe life?" Damon asked. "Might as well have fun."

"Didn't you read Parenting for Dummies? Once you have a child you have no life."

"In that case," Damon said, finishing his glass, "I hope you have ten children." He took a proper look at Alaric. "What the hell are wearing?" He had a cowboy hate placed on his head, a long waist coat, and a red scarf round his neck.

"What?" Alaric said, getting up. "I'm a cowboy."

Damon's look said it all.

"It's not the worst costume," he said defensively. "Have you seen what Stefan's wearing?"

Damon smirked. "I warned him about feeding on bunny blood."

xXx

This is a dream – all of it. I'll wake up and I'll be in my apartment in New York. Mom will still be alive and they'll be no vampires or warlocks.

"Tari?" Allen's voice swam back to her. She returned to him. His eyes were round with worry. She didn't know whether it was for himself or for her. "Are you okay?"

"Okay?" she choked out. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just found out that warlocks exist. No worries at all."

"This can't be such a shock." Allen's voice was low, almost a whisper. "After all, your family are vampires."

Tari felt her heart stop. She jolted to look at Allen. He looked...not scared, no. Upset yes, but...more sympathetic. And that angered Tari even more.

"How the hell-? How did you know?" She stood up again – better to be on the offensive.

"I found some of my mom's old journals. It was about fifteen or sixteen years ago, but our parents fought against these other vampires. She's a witch too. Anyway, that's when I found out your second name was Salvatore I knew that you were mixed up into it."

"Wait a minute." Tari felt all the breath leave her body. "Were you, spying on me?"

He gazed away from her, his chest moving up in a deep sigh. "A little. Not at first though!" he said as Tari turned away, shaking her head. "When I first met you, you were just a girl – a fun, pretty girl."

"And after?" Her voice was trembling and she wanted to kick herself for showing weakness.

"I was a bit worried, to tell you the truth. I thought that there was some...I don't know, plot going on. My mom's journal made it seem like Damon Salvatore was a bit of a dick. I thought something was up. And then I got to know you," he said simply.

"You're good Tari. I didn't think we needed any more people in our group, but – it's like your family now."

"Family?" snapped Tari. "Family don't lie to each other."

"Well you weren't honest either!" Allen shot back. "You didn't tell us about your family. But I get it Tari – you can't just tell anyone this secret. I mean, who would believe you for a start? We just wanted to wait until we got to know you better-"

"We?" Tari stared at him. "Are you saying Sawyer and Liam-"

"Know that I'm a warlock? Yeah, they do." He shrugged. "It's not like I could keep it from them. But that's what I'm saying Tari! They understand – you can trust us."

"Trust you? How can I trust you? You set the place on fire!"

Tari tried to push away, but Allen grabbed hold of her. "I didn't start the fire Tari," he said. He lowered his voice. "I just stopped it."

If she had been in a better mood, Tari would have been touched by what he said. But she was so...overwhelmed. The fire had terrified her more than she realised; she was only now starting to feel the effects. Her throat was dry and her skin was still burning. She had barely come to terms with fact her father was a vampire – now her friend was a warlock? And everyone knew? Why was she the one that was left out?

She stared Allen in the face, and swiftly jerked her arm away. "Stay away from me."

She didn't realise how far she'd come until she noticed the people around her. The party was in full swing, but Tari could no longer get enthusiastic about it. She felt like the teenagers around her didn't understand any of it. They worried about school and their parents not understanding them and whether their boyfriend/girlfriend thought the quarterback/head cheerleader was cute. They didn't worry about being attacked by a vampire while walking down the street; didn't think about whether that, one day, they might have a sudden craving for blood.

"Tari?" Liam grabbed her arm, whirling her round. "Where've you been?"

"Not now Liam," Tari said. She couldn't talk to him right now. So much had happened...

"Where is everyone?" he demanded. "Did you find Sawyer?"

"She's..." She gestured in the air. "Look Liam, I can't talk right now."

It looked as if he was frowning through the face paint. "Tari, what's going on?"

"Ask Allen," she answered, finally snapping. "You guys share everything!" She broke free of Liam's grip and pushed her way through the crowd, so violently she knocked a few people who were unsteady on their feet.

She didn't know where Elena or Stefan were, and even if she did, she wouldn't know what to say them. She closed her eyes. Her head was pounding. I need to get out of here. I need it to be quiet.

xXx

Damon didn't know how many drinks he'd had, but he wasn't really feeling the effects. It didn't bother him so much anymore – his body had become almost immune to his usual intake of alcohol. He noticed the quiet with emphasis. There was plenty of noise outside, making people pause before entering the Grill.

"Damon?"

He was amazed he hadn't heard his daughter's footsteps before. He lifted his gaze to her. Automatically he analysed her: she had her arms crossed, but it almost looked as if she was holding herself together. She looked more fragile, as if she'd been knocked down. He felt his stomach tighten, but forced his face to remain indifferent.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take me home?"

A million questions ran through his mind, but he didn't voice any – it almost didn't seem as if she could take it. That confident girl that had left earlier tonight now looked as pale as paper, and utterly worn out. "Sure," he said, standing.

Before they moved away, he took off his leather jacket and gently placed it round her shoulders. She looked so young and small, as if a mild wind could blow her over. She gave him a small smile in return, despite how forced it seemed.

As he led her out, he couldn't help but think Alaric was right: they let you know that you were doing a good job.

xXx

Tari took a shower.

She didn't realise how cold she was until she stepped into the rain of water. It felt so good though – like a hug. She could just fall asleep at the warmth of it.

She'd had such high hopes for this party. She honestly thought she'd have a good time. There would be no drama; she could have fun and forget about vampires. But she was beginning to realise that you could never forget about them. Vampires would forever be a part of her life.

The world has changed, she said to herself. You won't ever see it in the same way again.

She closed her eyes. She remembered how she would get up on a Sunday morning and her mother would appear in her pyjamas; they would share coffee before getting dress and going for brunch at the diner a few blocks away. They would always try to sit in a certain area so they would get the cute Indian guy and not the perky waitress who gave them a headache. Watching the waitress, they would try to guess how much Prozac she was on.

That world would never return.

Get over it, she told herself. You've got to deal with it now. This is your life. Make it better.

Still, those words didn't give her much encouragement.

She stepped out the shower, drying herself with a towel. She had to hand it to Damon, at least he made sure she had the best of things. She cuddled the towel close to her body. It was twice her size and as soft as a baby chick's feathers. They should make carpets out of this.

Before leaving the bathroom, she paused, peering into the mirror. She didn't look like the same girl that she had been before – before the vampires, before her mother died. There was no marked difference, but her eyes. Had they gone darker? Or maybe it was just the shadows that the knowledge had brought her?

It's true what they say. Ignorance is bliss.

She crawled onto her bed. Stefan always made the beds after like, one night – something that Tari was amazed at considering how much money it would cost. But she had come to appreciate the clean covers, ironed and soft. She slept so much better.

There was a knock on the door. Tari couldn't help but be surprised when had to call him in – usually Damon knocked quickly and then burst in without warning. He must feel bad for me. She wondered if Damon feeling sorry for her would give her more freedom, even for a short period of time. She was surprised that she didn't gain any joy in that thought.

"Here." He handed her a warm mug. Tari could smell the hot chocolate. "I thought you'd prefer this."

"Thanks," she sighed, taking it. Cautiously she lifted the drink to her lips. It burnt slightly, but the chocolate soothed the soreness of her throat.

Damon waited for her to put the mug down before crawling on the bed. "Okay kid, you've gotta give me something. You come back looking scared and stinking of smoke. Did something happen?" He studied her face.

"I'm fine," she answered. What could she tell Damon? She didn't exactly think that Allen would want him to know. After all, it wasn't her secret to tell.

Damon tilted his head, giving her a disbelieving look. "C'mon Tari. I know you."

"Damon, can you just leave it?" Tari wanted to beg him, plead that he would let this drop. She just wanted Damon to stop pestering her, to stop wanting to peer into her mind.

"Just tell me that you're okay," Damon said. "And mean it," he added.

"I will be," she said after a moment. "Tonight was just..." She closed her eyes. "A Friday night I guess."

"You're sounding cryptic," he commented.

"It's been a difficult night."

Damon settled against the pillows and Tari rolled her eyes. I guess he's staying. "Can I have three guesses?"

"No."

"Oh come on."

"You're like a four year old."

"Better than being fourteen and...bitchy," Damon shot back, giving her a grin.

Without thinking Tari reached for the side of the table and wacked him with a book. He didn't even wince, just snatched the book from her grasp. "What did you think?" he said, flipping through the pages of Gone With The Wind.

Tari thought for a moment. "Heartbreaking."

"But honest."

"If I'm honest," Tari began, pleased that they're not continuing the previous conversation. "I was disappointed. The story was so good, and the romance between Rhett and Scarlett was so beautiful. You're meant to fall in love with Rhett – and of course you do, because he's kind and unloved and sweet – and you even like Scarlett, because she gets past the pain and begins to fight for herself, even though she's incredibly selfish. They should have lived happily ever."

Damon sat up a little, leading against the wooden bed head. "Life's not a fairytale," he pointed out. "It was just being true to that."

Tari shook her head. "I'd rewrite it."

"Someone did a sequel. I wouldn't read it though, it's crappy."

"But I need a happy ending," Tari pressed on. "Does it end happily?"

Damon stared into her eyes; they were so blue, so watery blue they reminded him of pearls. "Sure," he said softly. He wrapped his arm round her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

For once, Tari didn't want to pull away. After tonight it just felt so good to be held. She felt tired – deep bone tired. All the thoughts were swirling in her head, and she knew that the only thing that would make her relax would be too sleep and forget. And so, for once, Tari didn't need to be sick to allow herself to be held. She moved closer to Damon, sitting in his lap. Eyes still closed, she said, "Tell me a story."

She could feel Damon's smirk. "What story?"

"Any story."

He pursed his lips, thinking, and then smiled. "Did your mother ever tell you about the time she lost you?"

She grins into his chest. "No."

"You were three, maybe four. I was visiting, but I'd had a long night – we both had. But your mother needed to get some new clothes for you, so she woke up early and left. A few hours later I get a way too early phone call from your mother, frantic because she couldn't find you.

"We had the entire staff in the mall looking for you. It was about two hours before we found you again."

"Where was I?"

"In the backroom of a clothing store. It seems as if you were tired too, because you'd curled up on a pile of sweaters." For a moment Damon had just stood there staring at her. He had been so relieved that she hadn't been snatched by some paedophile – after all, there were some things even Damon wouldn't be able to fix. That had been one of the few times he was furious with Rebecca. Rebecca had screamed at Tari; Tari had burst into tears; Rebecca had burst into tears; Damon had shook his head and taken them both home and made ice cream sundaes. The staff at the mall had been extremely relieved to see them go.

He realised Tari had gone still in his arms. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly.

"Just stay for a while," she murmured.

Damon smiled, feeling it echo through his body. My pleasure.

xXx

"She escaped." Her voice was almost inaudible. Nervously she watched the man by the window. He was standing in the moonlight, a glass in his hand.

"I noticed," he hissed. He pressed the glass to his head. "This was supposed to be easy."

"She's Damon Salvatore's daughter-"

Before she could finish he sped towards her, stabbing her in the stomach. She gasped, falling to her knees. "Do not say that name," he hissed.

Even after all these years, it still hurt. Screwing her eyes together, she yanked it back out. Pressing her hand to her stomach, she waited for it to heal.

"Next time," he called from behind her, "you won't fail."

xXx

Tari woke up early that morning. Her mind was still groggy from sleep, but enough to remember where she was. She didn't quite remember what happened last night – just enough to know that she didn't want to think about it.

She loved mornings like this. Those lazy mornings when she didn't have to do anything, she could just lie in bed. And this bed was so comfortable. She spread out on the mattress, loving how huge it was. The beds were definitely one good thing about living here – maybe the only thing. Yes New York was great, but everything was so small and cramped. She would never admit that Mystic Falls had something better than New York. She would never hear the end of it, not from Damon or her friends –

Sawyer. Allen. Liam.

Mr Herman.

Warlock.

Tari groaned, shoving the covers off her. Oh God, it was crazy. Did this town get hit by a comet or something? Was that why there were so many freaky people wandering around the town?

You're one of them, a little voice in her head whispered.

Her phone vibrated. Tari glowered at it, knowing that the news wouldn't be good. Nonetheless she reached forward and grabbed it. She read the text, biting her lip and thinking. Part of her just wanted to stay in her room and play loud music. Did she really want to go?

It's your life, another voice reminded her. Take control.

She sent a text back, already having a feeling she was going to regret it. Especially because it meant she would now have to get up. So much for her good morning.

In a hurry she got dressed, only tying her hair in a messy ponytail and not even putting make up on. She was starving – she hadn't eaten much dinner last night, had been too busy thinking about the party – and she knew she needed to eat something. She searched the kitchen, finally deciding on an oat and honey snack bar (Damon usually snuck in the chocolate and marshmallow kind, but lately Elena had cracked down on the junk food). Before leaving she paused, wondering whether she should leave Damon a note. Back in New York she would pop out all the time to get to the shops without letting her mother know. Then again, if she had been gone out for long than one or two hours her mother would call her. And this was Damon, who was obsessive about knowing where she was.

Finally she grabbed a scrap piece of paper. Gone out into town – be back in a few hours. T xxx Satisfied she placed it on the counter, feeling slightly pleased with herself. Damon would have no reason to punish her now.

She stepped outside, opening the snack bar – and then rammed straight into someone. By the way she was pushed back while he didn't even move told her who it was.

Damon looked at her as if she was a delinquent. "Where do you think you're going?"

Tari stared at him for a moment before sending him a glare. "Does this necklace have a motion detector in it or something?"

He scoffed. "Did you forget that I'm a vampire? Super hearing? You weren't exactly being quiet." He checked her out. "Where are you going without make up and with your hair a mess? Isn't the reason I have to wake you up at six fifty every morning because you have to spend time doing your hair and make up?"

"I'm going out to meet some friends."

"This early?" His raised eyebrow said it all.

She sighed. "Yes, this early."

"Does this have anything to do with what happened last night?"

Tari tried to avoid his gaze. "Maybe." Hastily attempting to avoid questioning, she said, "I left you a note."

"Where?"

"On the counter."

He flashed away, but Tari didn't move. She knew he would be coming back, and sure enough in the next second he was back, holding the note.

"That doesn't give me much information," Damon told her, his eyes scanning it.

"But it lets you know I haven't been kidnapped," Tari pointed out. "Look, I'll be back before you know it."

Damon took the snack bar out of her hand. "Or you could just tell me what's going on," he suggested. He took a bite of the snack bar, and then pulled a face. "God this is vile."

Tari snatched it back. "I won't be long." She took a bite and then screwed up her eyes. "You're right, this is gross. Don't let Elena do the shopping anymore."

"Yeah, 'cause I have nothing better to do than to go food shopping."

Tari was well aware that time was passing. Surely they would be beginning to panic. "Can I go now?"

Damon lifted his hand, looking at his watch. "Be back here in...three hours."

"Seriously? You're giving me a time limit?"

"If you come back by eleven, there may be...pancakes?"

Tari perked up. "Really? Proper pancakes, not things from a packet? And not by Elena, right?"

"Elena will not touch them," vowed Damon. "So, see you in three hours?"

"Done," Tari said.

Damon watched her leave smirking. Screw parenting books – bribery worked every time. He should have tried that in the first place.

xXx

Tari saw Sawyer first. Her friend, usually so careful with her appearance, now had her hair tied up just like Tari and was wearing loose jeans and a sweatshirt. The skin on her face was pallid, but it didn't make her look ill; she looked like a model. Amazing how Sawyer could have a late night, and possibly no sleep as she was filled with worry, and still look stunning. Suddenly Tari felt incredibly scruffy.

She was also the one who spotted Tari. She stood straighter, causing Liam and Allen to look round. They all stood absolutely still, staring at her.

She paused. "Jesus, it's like I'm a defendant at court. Am I guilty?"

Liam let out a low chuckle, though Sawyer and Allen stayed serious. "We need to explain," Allen answered.

They had asked to meet at the lagoon, where they had taken her on the first day. Tari remembered how much fun they'd all had; how she hadn't laughed like that since her mother had died. She felt a sudden ache in her chest; it came on so quickly it was like a stab to the heart.

She crossed her arms. "I'm listening."

Allen stepped forward. "You have to understand why we didn't tell you – about me, I mean."

"I understand that," Tari interrupted. "I get that. What upsets me is that you were spying on me."

"We weren't spying," Liam said. "Honestly. We were just worried about you."

"I've read about Damon Salvatore," Allen said. "My mom knew him. He's dangerous Tari. He's unpredictable and reckless. We just wanted to make sure that you weren't in trouble."

"You're mother's wrong." Tari could feel her blood flowing through her, almost like a raging river. It was boiling her. "He's my father. From what I gather they haven't hung out in ages – how would she know that he's changed? And even if he is a huge pain in the ass, you aren't allowed to say that."

Allen held up his hands. "Okay! We get it!"

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." It was the first time Sawyer had spoken. Her voice was soft, like a feather. "We were wrong."

"Get a tape recorder," Liam said, smirking. "Sawyer just admitted she was wrong."

His cousin shoved him. "I said we were wrong idiot. That includes you." She turned back to Tari. "We know you now. We get that we can trust you, which is why were telling you this. Allen's a warlock. It's no big deal – alright," she said when she saw Tari open her mouth. "It is a big deal. But it's...more of a fact than anything else. We don't care if you're a vampire or a werewolf or just a plain bitch. You're our friend."

"More than that," Liam added. "You're family."

"Part of our family." Allen said, moving closer. They were close together, all of them in a circle.

Tari couldn't help but give in. She was mad – had been mad last night, but this morning had given her clarity. Even she wasn't naive to know that Damon hadn't been the best man in previous years – after all, he was a vampire. They were her friends. It was natural that they should be worried about her.

"You guys are idiots," she said, allowing a reluctant smile to grace her face.

"The worst," Allen said instantly, hugging her.

"I wasn't that bad," answered Liam. Before Tari could move all four of them were stuck together in a group hug. "No more lies."

"Or secrets," Tari said, looking pointedly at Sawyer.

"And no shit," Sawyer added, though she avoided her gaze.

"I now pronounce us best friends forever and a day," Allen echoed.

"Can we stop the sappiness now?" said Liam, the first to pull away.

"Yeah, even I think it's getting a bit mushy," said Sawyer. She looked at Tari. "Can we have a minute?" she asked the guys.

Both of them looked at the girls. They were both hypersensitive right now to any arguments, and Tari could tell they would do anything to avoid a fight. "It's okay," she said to Liam and Allen.

Allen looked as if he was about to say something, but Liam grabbed his best friend's shoulder. "We'll see you outside the Grill," he called.

Once the boys were gone, Sawyer faced Tari head on. "You must have a lot of questions," she said.

"Just a few," said Tari. She lifted her head, watching her friend. The girl was fidgeting, nudging the autumn leaves on the ground with her feet. "When did this...thing begin?"

Sawyer swallowed. "At the end of last year. I always thought that he was cute – I mean, everyone did. I wanted him to sign my yearbook. We were alone, and he was joking about something, and we were so close to each other it just...happened," Sawyer finished lamely. Tari could almost picture it: the heat unbearable in a stuffy classroom, Sawyer would have been showing a lot of skin. He was intelligent and funny, Tari could see that Sawyer admired him. How they were so close together, Sawyer with her curious nature, she just couldn't resist.

"We both knew what we were doing was wrong," Sawyer lamented. "We couldn't help it though. We ended up spending a lot of the summer together. It was hard finding excuses for my parents – even harder with Liam. He knows me so well."

"He knows something's up," Tari informed her.

Sawyer closed her eyes, as if it pained her. "I don't want him to worry about me. I mean, the whole reason Peter and I-"

"Peter?"

Red rushed over Sawyer's face. "Mr Herman," she muttered.

"Oh," said Tari, feeling her embarrassment.

"We broke it off, remember?" Sawyer looked bitter, her green eyes dark. "Before school began. It was getting to difficult to keep lying to Allen and Liam. The school year was starting. It was easier in the summer, but with the school beginning it made it more serious – he was actually dating a student then.

"But it was so painful." Her voice was a whisper. "No matter what I did, I couldn't make myself feel better. I was so down my Aunt Brooke even asked me if I wanted to model for her. I said no. I didn't feel pretty, not then.

"A few days I went to his flat. He didn't want to see me, but I begged and pleaded and even cried. I didn't recognise myself. Somehow – and I don't even remember how –he took me back. We've been going out for nearly six months now."

Tari went towards Sawyer, sitting opposite her. "You know how stupid this is, right? How incredibly reckless it is?"

"I got it," Sawyer answered, though a little snippily.

"Good, 'cause you're facing suspension and he could lose his job if you get caught."

"We know. We know what we're getting into. We're careful, Tari."

"You flirt with him right in front of the class!"

"And I do the same with Mr Saltzman, Mr St Patrick, and mouth off all the time to that Nazi of a P.E. teacher. I gossip and share clothes with Miss Fallacy. I make sure that I'm friendly with all the teachers so no one will suspect that there's something going on with Pet- Mr Herman. I know what I'm doing Tari. Trust me."

Tari lifted her head to the sky. "What about Allen and Liam?" she said after a moment.

"You can't tell them Tari." Sawyer turned to her. Her face wasn't earnest, just tired. "You know Liam. He would freak out, and what's even worse, he might end up punching the shit out of him. He's not exactly one for being cautious, especially when it comes to me."

"What was that just then? No lies or secrets? Was all that a lie?"

"No I-" Sawyer took a deep breath. "I know. But I can't tell them. I didn't even want you to know."

"And how is Liam gonna react when he finds out-"

"He won't find out."

"But let's just say he does. How is he going to react when he realises that I knew and never told him?"

"If Liam finds out, believe me, he won't be mad at you. I'll be the one who'll be lined up for death row." She turned her entire body to face Tari. "I know what I'm asking you to do is a big deal. But I love him Tari."

"Sawyer-"

"I'm old enough to know what love is," she informed Tari. "I've been with jocks who don't know how to spell their own name and stoners who don't know what day it is. They are so immature, and Peter... He talks about art and music and he challenges me. I love it."

Tari recalled the first day she met Sawyer, when she thought the blonde had brains as well as beauty. She suddenly understood how Sawyer would get annoyed with boys who weren't up to her level of intelligence.

Besides, what could she really do? She knew by now that once Sawyer's mind was made up, there was no changing it.

She sighed. "I'm not going to act as a liaison between the two of you. You can confide in me, but that's it."

"That's all I ask," Sawyer answered, visibly brightening. She was beginning to return to her old self again, with that witty twinkle in her eye and that cheeky smile on her face.

"You shouldn't be asking anything of me," Tari said, once again sighing. Sawyer collapsed on her, hugging and smiling.

"Thanks T," she said, her voice ringing, genuinely sincere.

"You're welcome S." Tari stood up, pulling Sawyer up with her. "Now let's go. Liam and Allen won't remain patient forever."

xXx

"Let me just give you a hand-"

"Get those hands off Elena!"

"But you're doing it wrong."

Tari gently closed the door, leaning back against it. She was half an hour early – the thing with her friends went faster than she thought it was going to. She didn't do anything for a moment though; she simply paused, listening to them.

"I've got at least a hundred and fifty years experience on you."

"In arrogance, yeah."

Stefan came down the stairs. "Hey," he greeted Tari. He was still in his pyjamas – she learnt quickly that no one was formal in this house. "Where've you been?"

"Just seeing some friends," Tari answered easily. She indicated her head with the kitchen. "Aren't you going to get in there? Stop the fight?"

He cringed. "Yeah, but then I have to decide who I side with. And while I love Elena more than anything else in the world, if I say that I like her cooking she'll make it more, and then I have to eat it."

Tari smiled, shaking her head as she walked into the kitchen. Elena and Damon were both glowering at each other. Each of them has one hand on the mixing bowl, brandishing it as if it's a weapon. Tari saw her hopes of pancakes vanishing with a casual flick of the bowl.

"Hey," Tari said. She moved on the stool, Stefan sliding beside her.

"Hi." Damon barely acknowledged her.

"Hi," Elena said, her eyes on Damon.

Stefan exhaled. "Okay: Elena, how about you let Damon cook?"

Elena whipped her head round, eyes narrowed accusingly. "Why?" she snapped.

Stefan visibly winced away. "Because it's a nice thing to do?" he answered weakly.

"Look, my cooking is-"

"-likely to make people vomit?" Damon finished.

"Technically you already made the mixture," Elena pointed out. "Couldn't you just let me make the rest?"

"I don't trust you not to burn them." Damon shot Stefan a look. "Can't you control your woman?"

"Are you suggesting I need to be controlled?" Elena flared up.

It was going to be an all-out brawl. Stefan, who had spent many years with both of them, knew that action had to be taken. "Elena honey, do you know where my original copy of Wuthering Heights is?"

Tari had to give it to Stefan, it worked: Elena jerked her head to him, distracted. "What?" she asked.

"My copy of Wuthering Heights," Stefan continued. "You borrowed it last, right? 'Cause I checked your nightstand and it wasn't there. And Cara Lockwood has been pestering me to let her take a look at it. I think she wants it for the historical society. I know you're going to the meeting today and I thought you could give it to her."

Elena frowned. Stefan was brilliant: his explanation had thoroughly distracted her from her fight with Damon, who (in everyone's best interests) was keeping quiet. The difference between tasty pancakes and charred cardboard depended on Elena forgetting she was in a fight.

"I'm sure it was on my bedside table," she murmured.

"I'm not sure. I could look again, I guess..."

"No," Elena said. Tari suddenly wished that she had gone out to eat at the Grill with the others, but she had happily gone without, dreaming of thick pancakes covered in maple syrup. "I'll look. You couldn't find a needle in a haystack."

Once gone, everyone in the kitchen breathed a sigh of relief. "I thank you," Tari said, "and so does my stomach."

Stefan smirked. "Don't mention it. Now I need to go and somehow make the book disappear from her table." He went upstairs, debating about what he was going to say to Elena.

Damon looked at Tari. "Shouldn't you tell her that she can't cook?"

"Why me?"

"Because I've tried and she's obviously not listening, and Stefan certainly doesn't have the balls to say anything."

"How long have they been together?"

"Too long," muttered Damon, pouring some pancake batter in a pan. "Before you were born."

"Almost everything in the world happened before I was born. Of course you've been around while dinosaurs still graced the planet, but..."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "You're making fun of the man who handles your food because...?"

Instantly Tari put a finger to her lips. "Shutting up now."

Damon smiled, looking down at the pan as he flipped the batter over. "So how was it this morning?"

"Good," Tari replied. For some reason she didn't like talking about her friends with Damon. Besides, obviously there were too many secrets; she couldn't tell Damon about Allen. It wasn't her secret to tell anyway. Damon wouldn't care – Allen didn't pose a threat to her. He was her friend.

He called you pretty. Tari had almost forgotten about that.

She studied her father as he flipped them, successfully tossing and catching them in the pan. When Allen had said that about him had made her want to punch him, an utterly weird feeling for her. It was there and gone in an instant, but it left her trembling on the inside. She hated how Allen had just made an assumption about him – as far as Tari knew they hadn't even met. Damon might have been an ass before, but he had changed. He had held her when she was crying over her mouth, looked after her when she was sick. Yes, he annoyed the hell out of her sometimes, maybe even most of the time, but he was hers. And no one had the right to insult him. No one, not even her best friends – especially her best friends.

"Tari?" She jolted, noticing for the first time that he was staring at her, realised that she had been staring at him. "What, do I have something on my face?"

She gathered herself quickly. "No – just your same old ugly mug."

"I'll have you know that people have based drawings on my face. And," he said, bending down so his face was close to hers. "You should be thanking me on bended knee for that great genetic make up I've given you."

"The one that made me into a hybrid? Yeah, thanks so much for that."

"You're welcome." She placed six pancakes on her plate, and then snatched one away from her plate and bit into it. "God I make good pancakes."

Mom made better ones. It was on the tip of her tongue, and she bit down hard to stop it from coming out. But it was true: her mom was a chef, after all, and though she rarely cooked in her own kitchen, when she made pancakes they were absolutely delicious. Tari savoured each and every bite, almost not wanting to swallow. Her mother always made them on her birthday-

No. She wouldn't think about her mother, not today. She wouldn't be stuck in the past; she was going to focus on the present. She was here, in the boarding house, with her father, and that was where she was going to remain.

"What films do you have here?" Tari asked.

"Check the living room," Damon advised. He smirked. "There's always Gone With The Wind."

"I don't suppose you have Pride and Prejudice?"

"If this is a way of getting out of reading your next book, you'd better think again. The DVD doesn't have half the information that the book has."

"Does that mean I actually have to read the book? Can't you give me some pointers?"

"I'm not helping you cheat."

"What?" Tari laughed, pausing before eating another bit of pancake. "Since when?"

"I'll let you know when I change my mind."