Isobel's POV

It was incredible how small this town was. The walk to the bonfire wasn't long at all from my house, though it also wasn't the most pleasant stroll I'd ever taken. It seemed as though come nightfall, Mystic Falls proudly lived up to its name. The place had almost an ominous air to it, the clear, darkened sky presenting the moon boldly amongst splatters of glittering stars. Around me were disorganised columns of trees, branches contorted in unnatural angles as they reached out into the night sky. The only thing that kept me from getting lost in the pathless expanse of backwoods was the visible orange glimmer of the raging fire through the trees, and the music that boisterously blared from an unseen sound system.

As soon as I stepped into the immediate vicinity, a red plastic cup was thrust into my hand by a shamelessly drunk individual, who did nothing but grin prior to stumbling over the log by my side. Swiftly, I meandered my way through the dense crowd, wandering eyes scanning the area. Each stereotype had loosely grouped amongst themselves, and it was comforting to realise I recognised some of them from my classes during the day. Their names, however.. That's another story. As I walked past them, the preppy girls and cheerleaders audaciously eyed me up and down, and as a jock from one of my classes noticed me, he shouted "New girl!", and the intoxicated mimicked chorus that followed from his fellow team mates elicited a fleeting laughter from my behalf. A short exchange of pleasantries was halted as I excused myself, curiosity getting the better of me as I made my way to the vaguely familiar figure that sat on one of many logs with his back to me.

"John, was it? Sorry if I got that wrong, there aren't any doors for you to burst through, so I can't be sure."

John's POV

With all the boisterous laughter and jeering friends that surrounded the engulfing bonfire, I was trapped in my own mind. Trying to remember how on earth I had got to this place. Why had things escalated to the point of no return. To add insult to my already painful injury, I was drunk just like the wretched pig at home. Like father like son.

The thought entered my mind and as the comparisons accumulated I found solace in the form of cheap beer. Tilting the red cup to my lips, I was struck by the faintly familiar voice that murmured my name. I had to see whom had so rudely approached me, I hadn't given off the party mood but once my slightly hindered gaze landed on Isobel things became clear. What did this bitch want now? Was she gonna nark about the consumption of alcohol and minors? The recreational drug use? The lude acts occurring behind the treeline? I wasn't in any mood to pander to the new addition to town.

"If a door is slammed in the woods and no-one is around. Does it make a noise?"

I asked the ghostly cutie standing before me.

Isobel's POV

With the slight turn of John's head as he acknowledged my presence came the lingering, familiar scent of cheap beer. Placing my cup down on the tree stump beside me, I spared my watch a quick glance, a sculpted brow raised in silent question as I directed a curious gaze at him once more. Drunk? Already? Lightweight.

A sliver of a smile played on coral brims upon hearing his response. His completely, nonsensical response, and folding slender limbs across my chest, I began a steady stroll towards him, my own displayed in matter-of-fact tones.

"If there were.. it would. But forests don't have doors."

Perching on the spot beside John though facing the opposite direction, I throw him a pointed glance to emphasise my statement, wondering in the back of my mind why I even bothered to entertain such a senseless question.

John's POV

The reply from Isobel's mouth fell to my ear, deafened due to my inebriated state, I managed to grasp a little of what she had said. Clumsily nudging her shoulder as I attempted to guide my cup to my lips to refresh my pallet and instead spilled the dregs that remained at the bottom of my cup. Boldly I reached out to wipe her lapel dry and instead grazed her boob. What a fucking jerk move! I could scream at myself but the drunken state I am in wouldn't be able to focus long enough to listen and heed my warning. Instead I had to settle for regaining control of the argument at hand.

"Are doors not made of wood and are we not surrounded by trees, which are wood before it's wood. Would, wood. Would, wood."

Oh my god. What the hell am I doing. Who gives a shit about wood or even doors.

I could die. I could literally dig a grave, and crawl in it. Poor Isobel Flemming. She had found herself saddled with a drunk babbling jerk at her first party. Tonight is supposed to be a rite of passage for any Mystic Falls teen not this shambles.

Isobel's POV

Because he was trashed. That's why I entertained the question. I was swiftly reminded of this fact as errant spots of beer showered my jacket, a fact that didn't bother me greatly. What's a little beer? It'd wipe off easily. This exact thought was apparently the one that ran through John's mind as politely, he attempted to wipe it off. I need to be more drunk for this.

Upon accidentally brushing his hand on my chest, I thanked whatever merciful God was watching from above for the atrocious lighting, the apples of my cheeks flushing violently with tints of pink. What was he even talking about? Clearing my throat, I directed a vague gaze in his direction once more, seraphic features altering in curiosity. I had to take a second to catch up with what John was drunkenly spouting, and missing my cue to respond by a fraction of a beat, I still only managed to drag out one word.

"..Yes?" Fucking wood."

John's POV

I felt the urge, I couldn't for the life of me contain it and as my lips compressed they were unable to stop the billowing surge I felt rising up my throat. My hands gripped the log I was sat upon and I braced myself for the uprising that would surely have my new 'companion' running for the hill. Don't. You. Do. It

A raging and echoed burp pried apart my brims and the reverberating sound was almost a vibration. I was mortified, hanging my head for a second before I grasped her shoulder and staggered to my feet.

"I'll be back, do not move."

Pushing myself a few steps forward I averted the fiery pit and stalked off behind the treeline. I needed a piss before the next urge that swept over me was a more unfortunate one. I quickly slid from sight, passing a couple whom were huddled against a tree. By the looks of it they were reenacting a scene from the sex education video we were forced to watch in health class. I propped a hand against the trunk of a great oak, unzipping my flies with the other to free myself and take a leak. The flood gates were opened and the sprinkling sound was surprisingly soothing.

Inhaling deeply I tried to clear my head and thus dissolve the heady intoxicating haze that filled my mind. I was blowing it with Isobel, even I could see that. I needed to regain my composure and allow the mask to slip back on. No good christian boy would dare act this way in front of a girl. When I returned to Isobel, I smiled apologetically and reclaimed my seat beside her, clutching a bottle of water I had snagged from the bed of a buddies truck.

"I'm sorry, I'm not normally like that."

Isobel's POV

I couldn't fathom why I listened to him when he told me not to move. I was pretty sure that trusting drunk adolescents who I found in the middle of a forest, nonetheless - was right up there with 'Talk to strangers' in the list of 'Don'ts I was given when growing up. I hadn't the slightest clue as to where John went, and given his evidently influenced state, I waged an internal battle. Should I follow him? Should I not?

I wouldn't put it past him to pass out in a hidden corner where no one would be able to find him. Even as these chaotic questions stirred in already clouded thoughts, I strained to hear past where no one would be able to find him. Even as these chaotic questions stirred in already clouded thoughts, I strained to hear past rather impressive display. Impressive? It was a rancid burp. Get your head together, Isobel.

Snapped out of convoluted reverie as John took a seat beside me once more, I looked up, a nonchalant shrug claiming my shoulders.

"It's fi-"

For the first time in the evening, I saw his features in the bright light of the blazing fire behind us.

"John, what happened?"

Svelte digits gingerly rested on his jaw as sable irises were colored with concern. How have I just noticed this? Warily moving his head from one side to another, I swallowed thickly, noticing the split lip and slightly swollen eye. Clearing my throat as I noticed his awkward demeanor, I was swift to take back my hand, wordlessly conveying an apology through the wry smile that dressed plush brims. It was only afterwards that I realised how unseemly my actions were, and yet at the same time, it was instinct that caused me to react in such a way. Well done. You've freaked the guy out.

The impassive air he held only caused my concern to elevate. Why? I barely knew the guy. But as he responded, darkened irises continued roaming injured features, and what followed was blurted out before my mind could even process the words that so quickly slipped past unguarded lips.

"You should come to mine and let me fix you up."

What the hell, Isobel Flemming?! My own statement surprised me, my eyes slightly widening as I looked down for the briefest second, mortified by how unintentionally forward I came across as. Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile as I looked back up at him, careful to choose my words before speaking them.

"I just mean.. You haven't even tried doing anything to that, have you?"

Mindlessly, tips of slender digits clawed delicately at the bark of the log John and I were sat on as I awaited his response.

John's POV

I was struck with a confusing expression tainting my previous apologetic appearance when Isobel's svelte digits lightly and rather boldly touch my face, the inappropriate caress provokes a lowering of brows to occur in a successful attempt at conveying the awkwardness of the moment. Although inappropriate her touch also brought forth a soothing that had been desperately missed. The chilled temperature of her fingertips sent shivers crawling up my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck prick and providing ease. What is she doing?

I held a steady gaze on her and inhaled a sharp breath, one which was hopefully undetected by her. What's her angle? She has to have one. Everyone does. Is she lulling me into a false sense of security to implement her revenge. I did ruin her first day at school.

For as long as I could remember I had been suspicious, it was instilled in me and my brother ever since our mother had died. Trust wasn't easy to share and I learned early on that kindness is just a means to and end; but Isobel's chaste touch felt good. Her icy digits aided my ailments and for a moment my sights were set on her. Hey, dumbass. She's going to want an explanation. Get your head out of her tits and think of something.

I berated myself and yanked back from her clutches, regaining my tough-guy facade.

"You should see the other guy."

I still couldn't figure out what Isobel wanted from me, I had been awful to her. The biggest asshole in the world and to top it off I had groped her. I wished God would smite me down in this spot and put and end to the awkward atmosphere between us. I was very aware of my breath and the stale stench of beer still lingered, coating my tongue in the bitterness. I needed to wash my mouth clean. Dude, your breathing this stink all over her. She is gonna puke or something.

The bottled water I had lifted from a buddy's truck had come in handy. I slid my fingers firmly around the screw cap top and lifted my head skyward as I took a leisurely swallow as she offered to take me back to her house and 'fix' me up. Yeah. I know that trick. I've used it plenty of times.

I had to halt the urge to bellow out a laugh in response to her bold offer. Isobel was hot, in a avant-garde way, she had potential and I didn't have anywhere else to go. I dreaded going home to the unknown, what mood would my father be in? Would we go for round two? Fuck it. She's cute enough and I could nail her.

It's been a slow summer in the girl department other than the Pastors daughter and his niece. I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had replaced the condom in my wallet.

"Hey, it's not that painful."

As I said it, my lip pulled and the split at the edge of my brim tugged prompting a wince to escape along with an accompanying grimace.

"Yeah, let's go. I hope you have meds and mouthwash."

I staggered to feet, inhaling deeply trying to clear the heady inebriating fog, stretching a hand out for hers.