Okay, so I got a fairly good response from the last chapter in Damon's POV, so I decided to branch out and cover the crazy stuff going on in current Elena's head. Let me know if it seems out of character, because constructive criticism goes a long way. I am still trying to figure out what tweaks I need to make when writing Damon's character, because I still don't feel comfortable writing him with all his snarkiness. This is sort of a filler chapter just meant to show current Elena's mental state. The next chapter is the much anticipated Elijah chapter, which I am looking forward to writing, because I love Elijah so much. After that will be the 'date.' Thank you to the people who consistently review my story. It means a lot.

Current Elena's POV

I toss outfit after outfit carelessly behind me until the pile on my bed holds every article of clothing that I own. Huffing in frustration, I throw myself onto the pile hoping the perfect outfit for my non-date with Damon miraculously appears in front of me. This is stupid. I should not be freaking out over what to wear for Damon. Damon has seen me in my pajamas for Christ sakes, and besides this is not a date. There is nothing to be worried about I repeat in my head. Two friends can go together to a carnival without it being weird, even if one of those friends might have feelings for the other friend, and even if one of those friends might recently have been dumped by her boyfriend. Everything will be fine, so what if my future self is in love with Damon, so what if Damon knows that, and so what if my heart beats faster when he's around, tonight will be a fun evening between two platonic friends, I tell myself unconvincingly.

Even in my head, this sounds lame. I allow myself the tiniest scream into my pillow to vent my frustration, and afterwards I throw it behind me and start muttering to myself. "Stupid, evil, manipulative, out to ruin my life. . . ." Before I can finish my little tirade about my future self, she walks through the door like she owns the place, which I guess she technically does, but that's beside the point. In her hands are bags filled to the brim with clothes.

"Relax, your clothing emergency is over. I figured since I got you into this I should at least supply your wardrobe for the evening, so you can stop obsessing over what to wear," she states with an air of cool confidence.

"I was not obsessing over my outfit, because this is not a date," I defiantly claim. My voice sounds a lot shriller than I would like, but I try to look firm and resolute. She takes one look around the room and the mess speaks for itself. My lie is quickly discovered, and my future self lets out a small chuckle at my expense.

"If that's your story," she states smugly. "Either way, I brought several options for you to choose from."

While I'm tempted to deny her offer of help, the clothes peeking out from her bags look too cute. The inner girl in me gives a silent squeal of delight and snatches the bag from my future self's hands. All the items she picked out are different from my typical jeans and solid color shirt combo. Most of the tops are low cut, tight, and practically sparkling. The pants are all a variation on a theme, snug fitting skinny jeans that show off all the right curves. As good as I look in all her choices, they just aren't me. I never dressed like this for actual dates, let alone non-dates. Before I give up completely, I find a simple white dress at the bottom of one of the bags. There are no sparkles, no flashy colors; it is a plain white dress with a green sash tied at the waist to add a splash of color. As I pick it up, Elena holds up a pair of dark green heels that match perfectly with the dress, as if she knew I would choose it all along.

I manage to mumble a small thank you before Elena leaves the room to let me change. When my hair is just right and the outfit is complete, I descend down the stairs to gauge Elena's reaction. I may still be mad at her for this forced setup, but she is currently the only female in the house, and I desperately need another woman's opinion. Her face shines with awe and pride as I come into view. It almost feels like having a big sister getting me ready for a big date, which this is not, I quickly remind myself.

"You look beautiful," she compliments softly.

"Are you sure that it's not too much? I mean it is only a school carnival. Why couldn't I just wear. . ."

"Stop it. You look perfect," she insists strongly. Her hands rest on my shoulders staring me down until I relent. She spends a couple moments fixing my bow and straightening out my dress before she gives me final approval.

As she's primping me, the same nagging thought keeps invading my brain. It has been bugging me ever since future me suggested this cockamamie idea. "What do you want from me," I ask plainly?

"What do you mean," she responds, clearly confused at my nature of my question?

"Stefan broke up with me only 24 hours ago and now you're setting me up with his brother. What do you expect to gain from this? What do you really want," I beg desperately?

Her face softens as she hears the pleading in my tone, and she leans on the back of the couch for support. "I want you to have fun," she says simply. There seems to be more to her story, so I let her continue without commenting. "Let's face it your life has royally sucked lately." Understatement of the century, I think to myself. "A lot of that is because of my sudden arrival." Correction, that was the understatement of the century. I keep wanting to be so mad at her, but every time I am, she goes and says something kind and sincere that makes me reconsider. It's stupid to trust her after all of her manipulations, but something inside of me compels me to have faith in her intentions. Her next suggestions for the evening actually leave me feeling excited for the first time about the carnival.

She speaks with such authority that it becomes impossible not to believe her. "For one evening you deserve to take a time out from your problems, think of it like a night pass from reality. Put your worrying brain aside for one night and enjoy a few hours of harmless fun with a friend who cares about you. Luckily, Damon has a special talent for making the most tragic of circumstances seem miles away. He can make you laugh and smile. This isn't some elaborate ploy to make you fall for Damon. I trust that will happen in its own time. Tonight is about you, so don't overthink it," she requests pleadingly.

"I can try, but no promises," I concede smiling genuinely. The strangest urge takes hold of me and I pull my future self into a hug. "Thank you," I whisper not really knowing what I am even thanking her for.

"You're welcome," she replies before reminding me that being late to a Caroline planned event will mean certain death, especially with her new vampire emotions adding to her neurosis. I walk out the door taking a few calming breaths and repeating my new mantra in my head. This is not a date. This is not a date.

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