Chapter 3:

Leisurely, I placed my textbooks into my locker, arranging them neatly to waste a couple of minutes. I had gym next and, although I sort of enjoyed the compulsory class, I would much prefer to dawdle for a few measly minutes to ensure that the changing rooms were empty upon arriving to them. I didn't want some strangers staring at my too-skinny frame as I changed.

"OCD-ish much?" I jumped slightly at the intruding sound and knocked my little pile of textbooks slightly. Great, they were astray now...

Wow, maybe I am a little OCD-ish... I thought to myself dubiously.

Swiftly, I fixed the fallen books and turned on my heel with a coy smile on my lips, "Can I help you with something, Damon?" I couldn't subdue the venom in my voice when I sneered his name spitefully. I slammed my locker door shut for effect and turned on my heel, bounding down the corridor with my bag hugged to my chest and Damon in tow.

He raised his eyebrows at my retort and smirked lopsidedly at me, "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." He observed. When I shot him a reproachful glare he raised his hands in surrender and chuckled softly. My insides quivered and jolted at the sound. He cleared his throat, "Actually, there is something you can help me with."

"And what might that be?" I sighed and veered to the right at the end of the corridor. It took him off guard and he jogged a couple of steps to keep up with me, obviously put off with my evasiveness, my snarky attitude and my mood.

Truthfully, I was in a particular bad mood due to lack of sleep; today was only the second day of school, a terrible Tuesday, and I'd spent the most part of the night unpacking boxes after attending to Jeremy's hunger and my own. Mum was working late last night and so she ate at the hospital. She hated turkey sandwiches, but she made do. Due to this, I was overly exhausted and looked a complete mess.

My straggly hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, still maintaining yesterday's curls, and my outfit was mismatched; a pair of faded jeans with torn knees from where I'd fallen over years back and a red sweater that was much too small for me. My cleavage was straining against the taunt material, begging to be released.

"I was sort of hoping that you'd bring that cute little ass of yours to a party tonight -a pool party. My pool party." He winked at me and flashed me his infamous lopsided grin.

"What's the occasion?"

"There isn't one."

"Well, my cute little ass won't be attending this party of yours." I retorted, quickening my pace.

"And why would that be?" His brows were furrowed in blatant confusion now. Obviously, he'd never been rejected before.

"For one, I have a job interview for Thursday that I need to prepare for and, for two, I don't want to go to a ridiculous pool party, much less yours." I smirked at my ingenious response, smug with my comeback.

"Ouch," he hissed, placing his hand over his heart theatrically, "that hurt."

"Good." I said indignantly.

After a moment of silence, Damon spoke up, "Is this the same interview you applied for yesterday at Mystic Grill?"

I froze mid-step, a chagrined expression plastered to my astonished face.

What the ever loving fuck?!

"How do you know about that?" I whispered impishly.

Not so tough now, are you? My subconscious snickered inwardly. Damon's sidelong glance affixed with a mischievous grin proved that he was on the same train of thought as myself.

I felt the cool of his breath brush the curve of my neck and felt him inhale there. Frozen, I couldn't move. His nose trailed down to the nape of my neck to my ear, his lips brushing the rim of it. "Because," He breathed seductively, "I'll be the one administrating the interview."

Then he was gone, strolling down the deserted corridor casually as if he had not just emitted these pressing feelings from within me. The fact that his breath emitted these feelings was the thing that bothered me the most. I mean, he's breathing carbon dioxide onto my skin and I'm feeling wanton with lust?!

So, was Damon the son of Giuseppe?

Fuck!

I made it to gym within the nick of time, the girls only just having started playing volleyball. Coach didn't even notice me quickly slide into the gymnasium behind the crowd of fawning girls, he was too occupied demonstrating tactics with another student to take any notice.

Throughout the entire lesson, my mind continued to wander to thoughts of Damon.

How could Damon be the son of Giuseppe when they were so obviously opposites? After awhile, everything began to click into place; images of Giuseppe leaning over the booth to whisper inconspicuously into Damon's ear invaded my mind. Was it true? Damon... Salvatore? Or was he trying to get one over me to make me feel agitated? After all, the bartender, whom Giuseppe had referred to as Mr Donovan, or whomever else who had overheard about my interview, could have informed Damon and he was just trying to get back at me for my sour attitude to him. Furthermore, Giuseppe could have been telling him and his friends to clear out when he'd spoken to Damon in the booth... But Damon wouldn't take it to these extremes would he?

One thing was for certain, I was highly conflicted by the mystery of Damon... Salvatore.


Caroline took a swig of her mothers supply of liquor and handed me the bottle, I took a healthy chug and then another, passing the bottle back to her. Caroline brandished an old midnight blue bikini in my face and continued to babble on about this stupid pool party that she was forcing me to attend.

"You have to go!" She exclaimed, dangling the offensive item of clothing from her pinky finger. With the other hand, she took a long slurp from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Must I?" I pouted miserably. It was inevitable that I would end up attending but I couldn't help but try to dissuade her. Caroline had been bustling on about this goddamn party since lunch and she was set on going. One thing I'd learned about Caroline was that she was adamant. It was one of the many things I liked about her.

"Damon's going to be there..." She smiled excitedly at me and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as if that would entice me into going.

I heaved a huff of a laugh, "And that right there is one reason I don't want to go."

After taking yet another swig, she handed the bottle to me and pressed on, "So, what are the other reasons behind you not wanting to go?" I noticed the way she said 'not wanting' compared to 'not going' and heaved a sigh.

"I've told you, I've got the interview with him on Thursday and I need to prepare for it." I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, troubled. I still couldn't get my head around that facet of information.

"What, so you've got to put together an outfit? You don't need two days to coordinate an outfit, Elena! FYI, he's going to hire you." She stated matter of factly.

"And why would that be?"

"You're pretty." She shrugged.

"And that constitutes to getting the job?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly, put off the job by her petty and vulgar words. I placed the bottle of liquor on my bedside cabinet.

"No," she groaned, putting emphasis on the word, "it's just that Damon likes pretty girls to look at whilst he works."

It took me a moment to process what she was putting across. Damon worked there?!

"He works there?!" I voiced my thoughts.

"Of course he does, he's Giuseppe's son -the owner? You met him yesterday?" She explained, tilting her head to the side slightly.

I gestured for her to continue with a swipe of my hand as I drank in the information she was feeding me. After she leant across my bed to retrieve the bottle of liquor she'd stolen from her mothers liquor cabinet before she'd come barging into my home, she continued, "Well, him and his wife -Damon's mother- split a few years back and Damon spends his time with both parents," Swig, "but since Giuseppe works a lot, Damon decided to work there to be close to his father, although Giuseppe's usually cooped up in his office all day long." Swig, "It's rather pointless, to be honest, he doesn't get paid for it. Mind you, he doesn't need it. They're sort of a wealthy family and well known around town. Hence why we are most definitely attending tonight." She wiggled the bottle in my face as I stared at her indifferently, expressionless. She glared at me playfully until I swiped the bottle from her hands, rolling my eyes in the process.

With that said, she launched the bikini at my face and skipped to the bathroom to change into her green one.

At least I'd put together a few pieces of the puzzle that was Damon Salvatore...


I self-consciously slung my arms across my chest, covering my bikini clad breasts that were threatening to spill out of the tiny article of clothing.

Caroline rolled her eyes accusingly at my posture and tinged cheeks, "You look perfect, Elena, I really don't understand you..." She trailed off, side-eyeing me accusingly.

With a 'Humph,' I slipped through the front door of the Salvatore house with my favourite white dress on. Caroline wore a brown sarong that hung haphazardly low on her hips, making a patch of green bikini bottoms visible to any preying eyes. And, of course, eyes were undoubtedly preying.

Caroline said I looked sexy. In my eyes, I looked like a fucktard bimbo in this stupid bikini getup. I vowed not to take my dress off.

At all.

The sound of music echoing from the backyard grasped Caroline's attention. She squealed exuberantly at me and grabbed my hand, leading me through the hallway and the bustling kitchen to the garden area.

The grass was an exquisite shade of deep green, the flower beds various hues of blue, red, purple and white. The whole garden area was immaculate, prim and proper, except for the bikini clad hips and swimming trunks swinging seductively around the marvellous swimming pool, sloppily dropping empty red cups along the floor, which was scattered with droplets of water dripping from wet bodies. A jacuzzi was off to the side with a row of bushes shielding it from view, ensuring that it was privately hidden from anybody else in the garden. My mind drifted to Mystic Grill. It seemed that the Salvatore's had tasteful design, referring to both interior and exterior décor.

I could actually picture myself residing here, but with mum's minuscule pay check and the dwindling income since dad's death, I couldn't imagine relocating to a house of this impressive standard within the near future.

I jumped slightly and released a squeak when someone tapped my shoulder lightly, I could faintly hear them calling my name over the blaring music. It felt like the music was being injected into my brain, seeping into every thought and overriding them.

Mr Donovan stood innocently behind me with a small smile adorning his slight lips. He extended his hand to me in greeting, his baby blue eyes bright, "We didn't really have a chance to introduce ourselves yesterday," He began, "I'm Matt."

"I'm Elena." I smiled, shaking his sturdy, extended hand.

"I know." When he smiled, dimples appeared on either of his chunky cheeks and I couldn't help but grin back. I recalled him shouting my name just a couple of seconds ago and blushed at my thoughtlessness as he already knew my name.

"Would you like something to drink?" He questioned.

"Yes please!" Caroline interjected over the music. I immediately felt guilty for forgetting that she was there and blushed profusely, mouthing a 'sorry' to her. She tilted her head to the side with a reproachful look in her eyes, but nodded her head forgivingly at my pleading expression.

"Thank you, Matt." I smiled apologetically.

Matt awkwardly nodded his head in assent of my words and ambled through the throng of swaying bodies.

"We used to date." Caroline explained in my ear when Matt was out of hearing distance. That explained the tension...

"What happened?" I asked nosily. She shrugged and averted her eyes in return.

Right, touchy subject...

Matt returned with three red cups full of some unknown substance a while later. He looked past Caroline's shoulder as he handed her a cup, but just as he slipped the cup into my hand -his fingers lingering their a little longer than necessary- Tessa 'fell' into Matt and knocked him, effectively making him spill my drink down the front of my dress. The liquid seeped through the thin material and soaked my chest.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, pinching the front of the dress to prevent it from sticking to my chest.

Tessa giggled at my dumbfounded expression and placed her hand to her mouth, "Oops."

Speaking of fucktard bimbos...

She was clinging off of Damon's arm and giggling profusely. It suddenly dawned on me why she would act such a way. She was jealous that I got to sit next to Damon in chemistry, I recalled her snarling face yesterday from the desk a handful of rows in front of him...

Assigned seats are a bitch, I though menacingly.

I released my dress from between my fingers as Matt apologised repeatedly, but I drowned out his voice -Damon was grinning at me from ear to ear, proud of his girl undoubtedly.

Slowly, I grabbed the hem of my dress, fiddling with the edges for a second, debating. He undressed me with his eyes as his grin disappeared. As he licked his lips, I tugged on the hem of my dress torturously slow and pulled it over my head.

And here I vowed I'd never take it off... Pfft...

His eyes widened, as well as Matts, as his eyes roamed over my attire and drank me in. Tessa's face fell. She was livid.

Tessa had her arms flung around Damon's neck possessively, her nails sunk into his skin and he flinched in pain, distancing himself from her. She glared at me venomously and stalked off dramatically, her feet slapping harshly against the drenched and sticky pavement.

Such a drama queen...

I chugged down the half-full cup of remaining alcohol and threw the cup aside, my eyes trained on Damon.

"Wanna dance?" Caroline grinned like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland and my gaze flickered to hers, her expression devious and pleased with my performance. I nodded my head eagerly and padded barefoot towards the area were people were moving rhythmically to the music.

Smiling, I grabbed her hand and spun her around as she ground her ass into the air. Deviously, I smacked it playfully and she squeaked, giggling.

By now, all of the attention was affixed on us. Boys were chortling and cheering us on around us, but Damon...

Damon was sitting in a plastic chair, glaring at me as he chugged down his beer. His thick brows were in a constant sneer and his eyes bore into me. I felt someone grinding on me from behind and grimaced, pushing them off. I didn't want some strangers junk up in my funk!

Within seconds, Damon was striding towards me with a stoney glare plastered to his face. I gulped at the sight of him and cowered back as he pushed the boy aside. He tore off his black tee and threw it in my face.

"Put it on," He near growled, when I didn't make a move to obey, he rubbed a hand down his face; distressed, "now."

I did as I was told, the t-shirt much too big for me. It sagged off of my small frame.

Shocked into silence, I stared as he strutted indoors with his bare chest and back etched into my mind.

Holy Jesus...

Without my assent, I found my feet padding towards his retreating figure, my face as blank as a canvas.

Once we reached the empty kitchen, him oblivious to my stalking him, I stood awkwardly by the centre island behind him. I leaned on it for support and cleared my throat to grab his attention.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed as he spun around to face me in surprise, shocked at my presence. I scratched the back of my neck nervously. "What do you want, Gilbert?" He sighed once he'd regained his at ease composure.

"Sorry," I mumbled helplessly, "I just wanted to grab a bottle of water." He nodded his head and reached into the fridge, retrieving a bottle before throwing it at me. I barely caught it. He didn't turn back to face me, instead, he rested his forehead against the sliver refrigerator, "And to say that I'm sorry." I continued awkwardly.

He sighed with his back to me, the sound reverberating against the fridges' chilled surface, "For what?" He sounded bitter, but in an infuriated and put-out sort of way, not resentful.

"I...Umm..." I muttered. Why did I want to apologise again?

A heavy silence hung over us as I fumbled over my words, his back still to me.

"Why don't you just leave?" He pleaded without warning.

"I-I thought you wanted me to bring my cute ass here?" I blushed at my feeble excuse. I really shouldn't have let Caroline drag my drunk ass here...

He chuckled at my response and shook his head. "You'll be the death of me, Gilbert."

I inhaled deeply, "Elena," I whispered gently, trying to ease his sombre mood. He threw a cautious and bewildered glance over his shoulder and surveyed me as I stood awkwardly in just his t-shirt. "My name is Elena."

His lip quirked up at the corner into a half-smile. I opened my mouth to congratulate him on this, but quickly closed it. I didn't want to sour his mood any further, especially since I'd never seen him in this light. So laid-back and at ease with himself... and with me. "Elena." He smiled, testing out the word on his tongue. His smile broadened into a full-on smirk and then he was striding towards me. Leaning down deliriously close to my ear, he whispered, "I told you that I always get what I want."

And Damon was back to his infuriating self...


A/N- So, Damon's already affected by Elena. What'd you think? I'm so sorry for the long wait but I've been on holiday this whole time in my defence, and I only got back home yesterday. Hopefully, this rather long chapter makes up for it and since there was no damon/elena dialogs last chapter, I decided to make it up to you lovely lot this chapter. Next chapter, I think it will be the interview. Reviews are highly appreciated and encourage me to write faster!