Time to Pretend

My life has changed so much in the last three years in the last three years. I've learned more than a person could learn in a lifetime. But everything started when I moved from the coldness of New York city, to the warmth of Miami.

I was and wasn't ecstatic about the move from the amazing cool city that never sleeps to the sunshine state that was extremely humid, I mean who would be? But I wasn't exactly opposing to it either.

My life on the Upper East Side was dull, I literally went to tea parties, socialite parties, cotillions, and social gatherings every other day. My life was completely and entirely planned out for me, by who? None other than my wonderful mother, Katherine. Don't get me wrong, my mother was loving, fun, and crazy, but she was one of those people who definitely talked too much. If I had a penny for every time I said the word TMI because of how much she would tell me that I didn't want to hear, I'd be a billionaire. Oh wait, I am.

My mother was fun and sweet at times though, and I knew all she wanted was best for me. Plus she was hilarious and always made me and my friends at home laugh.

Like when my mom had betrothed me to William van Jucksen, a total hottie back home, when I was 12. All of my friends envied me I remember, but he's dating my best friend Mary. I gave her permission, even though I didn't feel the need. He always liked me, but I never saw why. I was too shy to ever talk to him, even though we were practically raised together. I was a pretty quiet person, and if it hadn't been for my mother's social gatherings, well, I wouldn't have any friends.

My mother speaks enough for the both of us, for one thing. But on a more serious note, she has absolutely traumatized me with the way she always babbles about anything she ever hears or sounds like a good story, even if it includes our personal lives. As the years have gone by, I've gotten better socially I speak when asked, and every once in a while I give my own opinion. But, when it comes to defending myself, I pretty much suck. This brings me back to my mother who says a woman should always act like a damsel in distress, even in conversation. She loves it when I can't defend myself, which sounds a lot worse not that I actually think about it…

My mother is a very controlling person, and I'm very much like her unfortunately, because that's how she wants me to be. My mom does everything to control people, especially me. For example: my mom has chosen every outfit I've ever worn in my life. Some people meet their friends and boyfriends by chance and God, but my mom has everything set up. My friends all have pedigrees, and besides myself, their ancestors go back to the pilgrims who came to the U.S. to flee the evil British king.

At first I resisted in trying to become her, but after a while I couldn't help it. Plus, it wasn't like she was that bad right?

Back to the story: I was very surprised when I was notified that we were moving. And I don't mean I was surprised because it was unexpected, but because my mom was devastated. I was in absolute shock when I realized for once in all of our lives, my mother didn't control our move. My father did. My father's job required him to move, and my mother could not fight it.

My father never really controlled my mother, she controlled us like puppets, but my father was like a little loyal dog to her, still in love with her like he just met her, and I for someone reason felt sorry for him.

I didn't fight it either, not only because I wasn't much of a fighter anyway, but because of the perks of our moving. I was finally going to be in a sense free. My parents promised that the move would provide my liberty. No longer would my wardrobe be chosen, no longer would I have to endure those dreadful parties, and I could make my own friends. The thought of it was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. My mom never told me why she was agreed to do this, but that's because she's also been quieter in the past 2 weeks than she had when her mother died.

On the day of my leave, I remember there were tears, from all of my friends and I. Even though they had been in a sense 'planned' friends, Abby, Mary, Vivian, and Bella had all been like my sisters. I recall feeling that I was going to miss them and the city I had grown up in and loved since forever. I had known that the move had its benefits, but that I wanted to move.

I still felt then, and still wish for a while after that I was a better arguer and fighter. If I had been then I wouldn't be told what to do all the time and I wouldn't have had to move.

Little did I know the move that I would've preferred not to happen, would change my life entirely.

We left our Mercedes that we had bought last month in New York, and we had a Bentley and a new Mercedes Benz Maclaren at our house waiting for us, or so my father had told me.

Our house was in Coco Plum, and it had a huge driveway. The house was beautiful and previously owned, and the owner had named it Elena, by coincidence. It was a coincidence because my name was Elena, Elena Gilbert. My mother's full name is Katherine Pierce and my father's is Jason Gilbert.

I remember the shock and awe I had when I first saw it. In New York City there were no large houses, only very nice and luxuriously large apartments. This house looked nice and big to me but I was so curious I wanted to see more.

"Where are you going?" My father asked with his window down, when I opened the door before the limo driver had even parked.

"I want to see the house, if that's okay." I replied the way I always spoke to them.

"Sure honey, knock yourself out." He had encouraged, and I smiled back at him.

I ran to the door of the house, I had noticed it was very long and two stories, but I hadn't noticed it wasn't the only house. The first thing I saw from the house was two staircases on the sides that curved to meet in the middle. But instead of going upstairs to check it out, something else caught my eye. I looked straight ahead and I saw a beautiful black door, which a design that looked like vines with leaves on them. Through the door was an actual glass behind it that showed me the hidden pool. And then behind it, a mansion.

I didn't bother looking to the right and left side of the first house, but instead I turned the knob of the door and slowly pushed it open. The pool looked like a dark blue that was almost purple. It was at least 100 ft in length, and 60ft in width. It wasn't an extremely wide pool but it was very long. In the center of the plum colored pool, there was a beautiful water fountain, that had a white statue of a saint with grapes in her hands and her other hand was up and pointing towards heaven. Her mouth was spitting out water. I was positive the saint was Saint Ita, my favorite saint. She was rather unknown but her feast day was my birthday and I had a curiosity for saints who were unpopular. St. Ita was known for supposedly eating food that was from heaven, and I had seen pictures that looked like this statue. It was funny and ironic because if I ever had a house I would've wanted a water fountain just like this one, and what better place to put it but in the middle of the pool?

As I walked past the pool, the mansion behind it caught my attention. It was a faded red, or so I thought, there was so many vines around the house making it appear old, but the antiquity made the house even more beautiful. I again turned the doorknob of the door that was identical to the last one I had opened, and when it banged shut I had heard the last of the water trickling down the statue of St. Ita, and my eyes opened wider than ever.

Again, the first thing that caught my attention was the stairs on both sides that curved in to meet at the middle. The design of the stairs was also the same as the door, with iron vines that curled and had little leaves on them.

The house was beautiful, it had palm trees in the entrance and it was a mansion. It had a hidden pool, a huge backyard and it was right in front of the ocean, it already had yacht parked in a space it had there. I'm not going to lie, compared to the apartments I had been living in for 15 years of my life, this was amazing. The house was a creamish color with dark chocolate for the color of the tile. I was absolutely positively in love with the house, and it's hugeness because that meant my room was going to be bigger than normal. When I went back out to our driveway, I realized there were 5 other houses in our house area. And I also saw a guy who looked about 17, ride his bike, he winked at me and he left. He made me blush but thankfully he didn't see that. The boy looked very cute from the glimpse I had caught from him. His eyes were a dark brown, and his hair was a brown with some blonde in it, which was refreshing since everyone in Manhattan had blue eyes and blonde hair, except for me.

I had brunette colored hair with natural blonde highlights in it. My eyes were a light green, and I was white, but I could've easily tanned. My nose was small and I had normal sized teeth. I was thin but not too skinny, and I was slightly muscular but weaker than anything. I looked Hispanic, even though my mother was from a very old and wealthy family in Bulgaria. I had a pretty face, but I sometimes thought I looked plain.

I had never even had a boyfriend because my father prohibited it and I saw no use of one. But at 15 going on 16, everyone had a boyfriend which made me feel out of place in Manhattan.

That had been one of my goals while in Miami; Find a boyfriend.

As if it were so simple.

I went back inside and found all of my stuff was being put away by maids and since I was hungry I went to the kitchen and since I couldn't cook, I looked for our chef.

"Mom!" I yelled.

"Yes, darling?" She sang.

"Where's our cook?"

"Oh he's not in sweetie, he starts Monday." She said.

Today was Sunday, and since I didn't eat snacks because I didn't want to gain weight. So, that meant I wasn't going to eat anything till tomorrow, great.

I went looking around the house, and found what looked like a movie theatre but in a room, and started looking for movies. I saw Gone with the Wind and immediately pulled it out. I adored that movie, and nothing passed time like four hours of Scarlett O' Hara and Rhett Butler. I asked one of my maids to make me popcorn and realized that was a snack, but I was hungry so I ate it anyway.

I started the movie and slowly but surely time passed. When the depressing movie ended, and Scarlett ended all alone, I wiped my tears off of my face and walked out of the room to see the house very dark. I turned on some of the lights to find my way back to my room and when I found the last room of the aisle I stepped into my now beautiful organized room and slipped myself under the covers and fell asleep, and that was the first time I dreamed of the cute guy who made me blush.

School started the next week, and of course I wasn't going to Public School. My school's name was Prideux premier Grove Senior High, it was supposedly huge which was great. It was also only five minutes away and a limo usually took all the kids who lived in my area to school, but that started next week. I was happy to be able to choose what clothes I was going to wear to school, it was fun. And when I had my omelette with cheese made by Carlos, our chef, I left to school with my dad.

"Thank's dad for taking me to school," I had told him when we were near my school campus.

"Of course. Have a great day Elena. I love you." He said.

"I love you too."

When I got down, I clicked the home button on my iPhone 5 to check the time and saw that I was 10 minutes late. Wonderful.

I went to the school office like the letter the school sent me say I should. And the lady at the front desk asked,

"Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah. Today's my first day and I'm supposed to report here- or something?" I said.

"Oh, yes! You must be Elena Gilbert!" The fat lady with orange wavy hair said, offering her hand.

I shook it and nodded my head meaning yes.

"Well, you're supposed to be guided by someone but I don't think-"

"Hello, Mrs. Thompson." A boy with a Clark Gable type voice said.

"Oh, Damon! You're late!" Mrs. Thompson said.

I turned around and saw the gorgeous, which was a horrible underestimation, boy. This guy was dark-brown, arguably black haired and his eyes were so beautiful blue they were almost the color of white crystals with a shade of blue to them. On top of everything he had this amazing smile, and his eyes looked warm and sincere and magical. He was tall too, he was at least 6'2, I was only 5'5.

"Well, maybe you're just extra early." He laughed, never really looking at me. .

"Salvatore." She groaned and smiled. "Just give her a tour of the school, and don't take longer than an hour." She informed him.

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed my hand and pushed me out the door he held open, softly, so that we could get away from Mrs. Thompson.

"Okay, first things first. My name is Damon Salvatore, and you are-" He stopped after closing the door and finally looked at me.

"You look- just like her." He looked dumbfounded. As he whispered the word her I got goosebumps.

"Just like who?" I asked, confused.

"Katherine?" He squinted his eyes and grabbed my arms roughly as he looked into my eyes

"Katherine? No, that's my mom's name. I'm Elena, Elena Gilbert." I explained.

"Gilbert? Hmm." Damon said to himself, as he let go of me and started pacing around, looking rather angry. "But Kat never got married, did she? She couldn't have." Damon whispered to himself, looking rather sad now.

"Elena Gilbert, are you by any chance related to Katherine Pierce?" He stared me down.

"What? Ye- Yeah," I nodded nervously. Jeez, this guy was a freak. "Pierce, is my mother's maiden name." I stupidly felt the need to continue. "Do you always talk to yourself?" I asked.

"Wow." He smiled in a devastatingly handsome way and started circling around me to examine me.

"What?" I wondered sort of agitated already, this guy was hot but crazy.

He laughed and said,

"Nothing, nothing you just remind me of your mother, you even get angry like she used to." He smiled, and for a second looked way older than 17.

"How do you know my mother?" I wondered.

"We're old friends." He smiled and began thinking about something else it seemed.

"How old are you?" I said.

"Just turned 18, why?" He asked.

"How are you old friends with my mother?

"Um, well, not really old friends. Ha, I was just kidding. Um, I think I bike ride around your area. I've seen her a couple times?" It sounded more like a question than an excuse.

"Yeah, okay?" I asked, weirded out by him.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" He asked, and he looked into my eyes and I looked in his and his were deep, like they knew a whole lot of stuff.

"Maybe." I smiled, intending to flirt.

"Why?"

"I don't know, maybe because I just moved in last week…?" I looked at him skeptically.

"If you knew half of the things I knew, you wouldn't think I was so weird." He was closer to me now, close enough to kiss.

"You smell nice." He smiled, as if recollecting something.

"Thanks." I smiled as he moved away from me.

"Lemme guess, Chanel number 26?" Adrian guessed.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I wondered, amazed he knew women's perfumes.

"Because you're mo-" he paused. "Because my friend used to wear the same one." He quickly corrected himself.

"Your friend?" I wondered.

"Um, yeah?" He gulped nervously.

"Is this like, a joke? Like does it help you pick up girls or something? Because I'm not buying it…"

"This is not me flirting." He grinned. "Scout's Honor." He raised his two fingers and laughed.

Oh no, please don't laugh, your smiles make me melt.

"Call me crazy, but something tells me you've never been a boy scout." I smiled sarcastically.

"Oh quit being smart." Damon rolled his eyes playfully. "That's beside the point. Aren't I supposed to be giving you a tour of the school?" When he said this, I kind of thought he had ADD.

"Yeah, kinda." I laughed at his forgetfulness.

"Well, then let's get on with it. I don't want you to think I'm completely crazy. If you think I'm a little bit crazy then, that's okay." He laughed. "Because I don't care anybody thinks about me." He started walking forward, and I followed.

"Oh, wow. You must be like, so cool." I said in my most air-headed and flirtatious voice.

"Do I hear a sarcastic tone in your voice?" Damon grinned, as if we had been friends forever.

"Most definitely, Mr. I'm too cool for you." I rolled my eyes with a smirk. "Tell me then, fearless man, if you don't care what people think, then why do you care now?" I wondered, trying to flirt, but didn't know if I was doing it correctly since, well I had never done it before.

"I don't." He lied.

"You just said you didn't want me to think you were too crazy." I tried to hide a smile as I was on the verge of winning this mini-battle with a demi-god.

"Are you flirting with me?" He asked, smiling. And stopping in a hallway.

"With a guy I just met? Of course not." I awkwardly saved myself.

"Yeah, sure." He said cockily.

"Nice try at distracting me, but it's not going to work. Why do you care now?" I stood my ground and said adamantly, no flirting intended.

"Well, because you're not just anybody." He smiled.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you're special." He said sweetly and sincerely.

"Oh, is this the part where I'm supposed to melt in your arms?" I rolled my eyes at his cheesiness and the intensity he looked at me with.

"I'm serious." He smirked.

"Tell me Mr. Salvatore, was it? What makes me special?" I squinted my eyes and put air quotes around special, making it obvious I didn't believe him.

"Because-" he paused, giving that infuriating look when people are deciding whether or not to tell you something but ultimately decide not to. "Well, I can't answer that." He grinned.

"What?" I asked, extremely confused, he reminded me of my mother, sometimes she knew so much more than me, and then wouldn't explain.

"Let's just say, I already know who you are. Or knew someone just like you."

Instead of asking the obvious, who, I asked,

"Was she nice?"

"I mean, I guess so?" He laughed, caught off guard by the question. "But of all adjectives that could be used to describe her, I don't think that would be one." He shook his head.

"What was her name?" I asked.

"Well, I called her Nikki, because she hated her name." He laughed, as if remembering a past memory.

"Oh." I smiled and thought about how I hated my name too, but stayed silent. I didn't want him grouping me with other women. Awful.

"You're lucky you don't have that complex, your name is beautiful." He said.

"Thanks." I said warily. "I hope you know-" I paused and took a breath before regaining confidence and laughing. "That you're wrong."

"Wrong? Me?" He laughed as if I spoke blasphemy.

"Of course." I circled him. "I'm nothing like that girl, Nikki. I'm nothing like any of the girls you've met. So I suggest you don't start grouping me with them." I hissed.

"Testy, this is a surprising side of you." Damon smiled, but he gulped – as if nervous?

"You said your last name was Gilbert, and your father's name Jason-" He interrupted our conversation, obviously waiting for me to tell him.

"Jason." I said.

"Jason Gilbert, hmm. That's German right?" He wondered.

"Well, yeah, but my dad's totally American. I mean blonde hair, blue eyes, the works. His family was actually one of the families that came from Europe to America in the 1600's." I smiled.

"Oh, really?" He paused and whispered, "An American, who would've thought?"

"There you go again," I said, looking away from him.

"What am I doing?" He asked, not lost in a gaze anymore.

"Talking to yourself." I laughed, it was funny how even though he seemed crazy, his face would never give that impression, so it gave him an excuse for all this craziness to be normal.

"Yeah, well, forgive me for having flashbacks right now." He laughed. "Thirsty?"

"Um, actually, yeah. I think I saw a vending machine that way-"I looked away to find it and when I turned back I saw a Sprite in his hand.

"Where'd you-?" I asked him.

"Magic." He smiled.

"How'd you know what soda I wanted?" I questioned.

"Lucky guess?"

"Sure." I took the soda from his hand, wondering if it was safe.

"It's not poison, I haven't touched it, look it's closed." He handed it to me and I looked at him, wondering how he seemed to know everything I was thinking.

"I'm not a mind reader." He laughed.

What the hell?

"I haven't said anything, and how the hell are you guessing everything I'm thinking, before I say anything?" I asked.

"Your face and your expressions. You make it obvious." He smiled.

"Sure."

"Let's just get on with the tour." He rolled his eyes seeing how I hadn't believed him.

"Sounds good to me. So far, I know where the soda fountain is. Oh no wait, I don't know where that is." I said sarcastically.

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm in your voice?"

"Well, it's not sincerity." I retorted.

"Are you-angry?" He laughed.

I crinkled my nose, because I was. I didn't like not knowing things. I hated secrets unless I was telling them. On the Upper East Side, I knew everything.

"Too bad you hate secrets." He smiled.

"How'd you know I hate secrets?" I said, semi-furious.

"You're mad because I'm not telling you how I did a few things, when actually I already told you how I got the soda."

"Well, then why is it too bad?"

"Because, then we can't be friends." He said seriously, a smirk never leaving his lips though.

"Why not?" I wondered, and a little hurt.

"Because you will never know this one." Damon whispered. "I think this tour is done. Goodbye Elena." His eyes stared into my eyes, as if gazing into my soul and paralyzing me from speaking for about 5 seconds, and he turned around and left.

"Wait! But, I don't where any of my classes are! I don't even know what campus we're on!" I yelled and watched him walk away.

All of a sudden the bell rang, and a bunch of 6th grade looking students started swarming around me.

What the hell just happened? How could he just leave me here? Did I say something mean? How did he always know what I was thinking? How did he get me that soda? What did he mean by, 'I already told you how I got the soda'?

I reviewed the conversation in my head and when I asked him how he got my soda, he said, Magic. Magic? Like a magic trick? Yeah, that would make sense. Maybe I would just go home.

No, I needed to find my classes, and I would and I would talk to Damon again and find out more about him. Find out his secrets.

I would find out his secrets, if it was the last thing I did.

Did you like it?! Read and review and repeatttt pleaseeee let me knowwww if you like and I'll continue!