A/N: Hi! I decided to cross-post this fic (it's also on Ao3). I haven't published any fanfics in a while, so we'll see how it goes lol. Oh, and just a warning, I use super-long sentences. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
A crow and a hawthorn tree.
Rosebushes and brambles snaking around the base. An indigo sky, faded like a Polaroid, night air watery and warm as a river. A full moon, dappled moonlight and ethereal starlight puddling in the grass, that grass green and brown and spotted with red-tinged leaves, leaves the color of rust and blood—and blood and blood and blood
Her throat was tight and she couldn't breathe—there were too many tombstones around the tree and they were all crumbling to dust and the bones beneath them were rattling, begging for strands of grass and vine to twine them back together and help them rise and walk again, and the crow became many and all watched from the tree, eyes glinting and beaks sharp, and the ancient air was water was water was—water—
"Rory!"
Rory Gilbert woke with a start and for a second was convinced she was still on a hillside or in a forest somewhere, underwater—then she managed to draw in a deep breath and struggled to prop herself up on one elbow. She was in her bedroom at home and the radio on the nightstand was blasting the local classical station—
And her aunt was framed in the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to be at school early?" Jenna Sommers asked.
"Yeah," said Rory, and she squinted at her alarm clock. She'd apparently been ignoring it for at least five minutes.
"Well, you'd better hurry up," Jenna warned her, and she disappeared back into the second floor hall. She closed the door behind her.
When she was gone Rory snatched for her glasses on her nightstand and climbed out of bed, her mind still suspended in that watery night air. She weeded through the dream as she turned down the radio to a level she knew would be more tolerable to her siblings and plucked a couple of stuffed animals from where she'd thrown them to the hardwood floor tossing and turning all night. She'd always had strange, inexplicable dreams, and the specific images tended to escape her after a little while, leaving her with only vague sensations of—breathing underwater? Or hearing a crow, or stepping in blood, or something?
Rory rubbed her temple and remade her bed, still running on autopilot. Her ribs seemed full of brambles—although, she thought as she leaned back from her neatly made bed and rearranged stuffed animals, that could've been attributed to anything. It was probably just nerves.
It was the first day of junior year, and although Rory was always thrilled by the prospect of being one step closer to escaping Mystic Falls, Virginia for good, today would be tough at best. She'd gone to locker setup day the week before as well as a preliminary Student Council meeting—they were having another one that morning—and her classmates had been awkward and polite with her. Most of them seemed to want to offer condolences, but Rory had been fielding them all summer.
Rory sighed, and with one more glance at her clock she forced herself into movement. Since she showered at night and tended to select a range of potential outfits the night before, it didn't take her long to prepare. Once she had grabbed her pale blue floral-patterned backpack, cracked her window to ensure her bedroom smelled summery when she made it home, and turned the radio off entirely, she jogged into the hall.
She would have kept up the pace all the way downstairs if she hadn't noticed at the last second that her twin sister Elena's bedroom door was ajar. Rory hesitated near the banister at the top of the stairs. Since middle school, she and Elena's before- and after-school activities had been different enough that it didn't make much sense for them to carpool, and it was weird to see Elena already awake. She was lounging in the cushioned seat near her bedroom's bay window, writing in her diary from what Rory could tell.
Rory could have walked in and wished her good luck, or at least said anything, but she didn't know what the hell there was to say. Instead she continued downstairs and into the empty kitchen, where she started the coffeemaker, grabbed a cereal bar and her lunch, and refilled her mint-colored water bottle. She strode down the hall, passing Jenna on the way, and stepped out onto the wide porch.
The air was warm, and the sky had already lightened to a powdery blue, streaked with white clouds. Rory breathed in the smells of cut grass and old wood—and a hint of chlorine from, presumably, the neighborhood pool only a street over—and rolled her shoulders back. I can do this, she told herself, and she trotted down the steps and hurried to her car.
Rory's car, a blue 1979 Ford Bronco, had been a hand-me-down from her grandfather, sort of. He'd intended to give it to any of the three Gilbert siblings who wanted it, and then he'd had a heart attack and Rory's dad had taken the car and put it in storage. It had been a combination of Rory's obsession with vintage anything and her spot on the Honor Roll at school that had earned her the car.
Of course the interior still smelled a little acrid from long-gone cigarette smoke at times and there were no back doors, which could be irritating for trying to drive more than a few people around. And she had to listen to either the radio or custom-made cassette tapes—or the cassettes her parents and grandparents had owned, which all seemed to be a lot of Three Dog Night and Carole King—but Rory didn't mind.
She reached Mystic Falls High in time to find a decent parking spot and made it to the Student Council meeting just as Tana Mercer called everyone to order. As it turned out Tana's insistence on meeting so soon after their meeting the week before was because she, as usual, was already zeroing in on the Decade Dance and Homecoming in October. "I'm more excited about the party at the Falls on Friday," Caroline Forbes, Vice President of Student Council, stage-whispered to the senior class representative.
Although Caroline was scolded by Tana for the disruption, her attitude seemed to be shared by most of the room. Rory shrugged off a few questions about whether or not she was going—she did usually try to stop by parties for at least an hour—and extricated herself from a conversation with the sophomore class representative and the Treasurer to escape back outside to the grassy lawn.
The parking lot had filled while Rory had been trapped in the Student Council meeting, and there were already students gathering on the lawn in clusters, talking and laughing. Rory dodged a few jocks who were throwing a football back and forth and greeted some classmates as she walked over to wait near the spiraling oak tree in the lawn, where she tended to meet her best friend before school started.
Rory didn't have to wait long. "Oof," remarked Mackenzie Lee as she wandered over from where she'd been talking with a couple National Honor Society members near the bulletin board, already peppered with colorful event flyers. "Yikes. You look tired."
Rory snickered. "Thanks." She could have commented on Mackenzie's appearance, considering Mackenzie was always pale, constantly wore her long black hair in a ponytail, and never seemed to change her eyeliner, but her state of disarray was constant and worked for her.
Instead Rory said, "I had a nightmare."
Mackenzie arched an eyebrow delicately. "What else is new?"
"It was even weirder than usual," Rory continued. "There was—death and air and water and maybe a crow, and there might have been graves or coffins or something involved. And I think it was night. Or there was a tunnel. Or I had tunnel vision?" She waved one hand in the air. "The details escape me."
"Interesting," conceded Mackenzie. She tossed her ponytail back and focused intently on Rory as a group of sophomores rushed past them, loudly discussing some party they'd gone to over the summer. "I'd say most of that makes sense. But a crow and a tunnel?"
"I have no explanation," said Rory. She adjusted the straps of her backpack as she and Mackenzie turned to walk back toward the school building. "I mean. Crows can be omens of death, but why would there be a tunnel?"
Mackenzie shrugged. "Who the hell knows? Maybe it means there's no light at the end of the tunnel."
Despite herself Rory laughed and Mackenzie smiled back, nudging Rory's shoulder with hers. "So how's life at the Gilbert house since I saw you last week? Any improvements?"
It's suffocating and still as a mausoleum, Rory thought, but it was a bright and sunny morning and they were about to start a new year. Admitting to the nightmare had been more than enough. "Definitely," she lied. "I think Elena's even doing better."
"Really?" said Mackenzie somewhat doubtfully. Rory waved at a few more classmates she knew from Book Club as they reached the sidewalk and continued down it toward the double-doors. "She seemed terrible all summer. How the hell did you handle it so much better? Is it because she was in the car?"
The previous May, Rory and Elena's parents had careened off Wickery Bridge and into the river below, and Elena had been in the sedan. She'd been the only survivor. "I don't know," Rory hedged. "Probably."
At least before Mackenzie, who was the more perceptive of Rory's closest friends, could further question her, they reached the navy double-doors. They had been propped open with wooden blocks since Rory had last entered, and as she walked back in, the two of them were greeted with a burst of cold air-conditioning and the still-strong scent of Lysol.
"Ah," breathed Mackenzie. "It's fucking freezing. Incredible."
Rory would have suspected she was being sarcastic if she hadn't known Mackenzie wanted to live in Alaska. "It's so we won't fall asleep in Ms. Connelly's classes," she joked. She glanced around the now loud, crowded main hall and exchanged a few more nods and smiles with classmates as they gathered around the dented gray metal lockers. Some of them were reuniting with each other as if they'd been parted by war.
Mackenzie crossed the hall, openly shoving freshmen out of her way, and paused to unlock and sweep open her locker door. Rory followed and gave the freshmen apologetic glances, at which they looked terrified. "You are an expert at scaring people," Rory announced as she leaned against the locker beside Mackenzie's with one shoulder.
Mackenzie grinned at her, flattered. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." She leaned over to unzip her black skull-patterned backpack and start unloading a surprising number of textbooks from it. "Anyway, do you want me to keep that up? Because He Who Must Not Be Named is approaching."
Rory groaned and covered her face with one hand as if doing so would render her invisible. Her most recent ex-boyfriend had, after six months of more arguing and making out than dating, called her and broken up with her over the phone this summer, while Rory had been working at a softball camp in Charlottesville in an attempt to escape Mystic Falls and the condolences. He'd certainly never been classy.
But she had long ago decided she would be, and for that reason she dropped her hand and straightened her shoulders. Rory glanced around and found Tyler Lockwood walking over from where he'd been with a couple of other football players down the hall. "Hey," Tyler said as he stopped a foot away from her.
"Hi," said Rory politely.
Tyler was good-looking, naturally tan with a decent jawline, short black hair, and great arms. He tended to carry himself confidently, which Rory suspected had been part of his appeal—this morning, though, he was fidgeting with one strap of his nondescript backpack and apparently trying not to look directly at her. "Uh. So. I know it hasn't been that long, but is it okay if I—uh—"
Rory furrowed her eyebrows as she watched Tyler stammer around whatever he was trying to spit out. "You don't have to ask my permission for anything. We're not dating anymore."
"I'm just warning you, then," Tyler seemed to decide aloud. "I started hooking up with Vicki Donovan."
Rory somehow managed to swallow a reflexive, startled laugh—at the same time Mackenzie choked behind her and Rory was given the opportunity to turn around and clap Mackenzie's back as she tried to rearrange her own expression. "I'm fine," Mackenzie managed, glancing back at Rory and then at Tyler. "Just choked on air. The usual." She shot Rory an incredulous look before sticking her head and almost her entire shoulders into her locker.
Rory, determined to remain polite, turned back around. Tyler was watching her warily and defensively. "You're right," she said. "It really hasn't been that long."
"I know," said Tyler. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "But you were gone all summer and we weren't really happening before—you know."
My parents drowned in a horrific car accident? "Okay," said Rory. "I don't need an explanation. Just—be careful."
Tyler snorted. "Be careful?"
"Vicki's notorious for, um, doing drugs? And your parents are…your parents?" His father was the mayor of Mystic Falls and his mother was by far the most intimidating woman Rory had ever had the misfortune to meet. Not that his father was friendly or likeable, either.
"Yeah, I know," Tyler repeated, irritation edging his tone. He glanced somewhat furtively out at the packed hall then back at Rory. This time he managed to meet her eye. "Are you okay?"
To her surprise the question seemed sincere. "Yeah," said Rory lightly. "I'm fine."
"Good," said Tyler with a nod. Someone shouted his name from down the hall and he took a small step back. "See you around."
"Bye," said Rory, and Tyler turned around and left, striding away and pushing a sophomore aside as he did. Rory watched him for a second as he continued onward and reunited with the football players. Vicki Donovan? Rory thought, torn between nonplussed and bewildered. Then she faced Mackenzie.
Mackenzie had already straightened back up and her expression was both shocked and delighted. "I—wow," she said with a hint of laughter. "I can't believe that just happened."
Rory opened her mouth to respond, closed it uncertainly, then admitted, "Me neither."
"Vicki Donovan," said Mackenzie, shaking her head. "That's quite a leap from you to her."
No kidding, thought Rory. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen Tyler and Vicki interact. How could she have? Tyler was one of the penultimate jocks of Mystic Falls High, the son of the mayor and in mostly AP classes, and Vicki was best known for popping pills like breath mints and flirting with married men during work at the Mystic Grill downtown. "That's definitely gonna be something," said Rory.
Mackenzie laughed. "Understatement of the year." She shoved a few more books into her locker and a couple notebooks into her backpack, and she zipped it up and slung it over her shoulder. She kicked her locker shut with one ankle boot. "You're on the history hall this year, right?"
"Yep. And I do want to go back to my locker to grab another notebook."
The pair thus continued down the hall, in the direction of the history wing. "You know," Mackenzie mused aloud, "I never liked him. He Who Must Not Be Named."
"To be honest I wish I hadn't," said Rory. "What was I thinking?"
Mackenzie patted her shoulder. "The world may never know." She nodded past Rory. "Perfect timing. There's the other one."
Rory followed her gaze and found Matt Donovan—another well-known football player and Vicki's brother. He seemed to catch sight of them at the same time, because he gave them a little smile and waved. Despite herself Rory half-smiled and waved back. She didn't know what it was about Matt, either, but he'd been her first kiss during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle at a seventh grade boy-girl party, and she'd had a crush on him ever since.
Of course Matt had been in love with Elena for as long as Rory had known him, and the two of them had gone out the year before. They'd broken up, too, over the summer, and Rory, who had been sent to talk to Matt on the front porch several times afterward, was sure he wasn't over Elena yet. Not that I want Elena's seconds anyway. Way too weird.
"Drama truly seems to follow you wherever you go," Mackenzie observed as they reached the history hall.
Rory rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Maybe it's the Gilbert curse."
"Yeah, that probably has more to do with cars," remarked Mackenzie. A second later she grimaced. "Shit. You know what I mean."
"Unfortunately, yep," said Rory, but she nudged Mackenzie to let her know she wasn't offended. "I'll never forget that fight Elena and I had over who would drive the Bronco to Homecoming last year."
Mackenzie snickered as they reached Rory's locker. Rory unlocked it and leaned in to fish for the floral-patterned notebook she'd remembered she wanted as Mackenzie lounged against the locker beside hers—
And just as Rory snatched up the notebook, Mackenzie swatted her arm. "Rory, oh my God. Turn around right now."
Rory leaned back out of her locker, notebook in hand, and swung it shut as she turned to look. In the midst of the various students scurrying around the hall there strode one guy Rory had never seen before. He had to be new, Rory surmised at once, because she'd known the entire high school for years, and she certainly would have remembered him. He was handsome, tan with perfectly styled brown hair, a strong jaw, and a worn black leather jacket.
As Rory watched, stunned, the guy's gaze wandered around the hall—and the two of them managed to make eye contact. Rory couldn't resist lifting her hand to give him a flirty wave; and she absolutely would have flirted with him if he'd walked over to say hi. Instead he proceeded toward the doors to the restrooms, and just as he turned to push open the door to the men's, out stumbled none other than Elena.
"No way," said Mackenzie flatly.
"Drama," said Rory, and she sighed, watching Elena visibly struggle to pull herself together enough to talk to the guy. "The Gilbert curse is definitely drama."
When the bell rang for lunch, Rory left her Physics class with a couple of other girls from the softball team, the sport she played in the spring. She had to stop by her locker and then decided to go to the only vending machine with Coke Zero. Afterward she checked her texts, discovered Mackenzie had already claimed a picnic table on the side lawn outside, and headed out to meet her.
Students were generally allowed to eat wherever they wanted as long as they stayed on campus. A few proctors tended to roam around the lawns and the cafeteria during lunch to ensure no one escaped. It did seem tempting to try, Rory thought as she stepped outside into the fresh, clean September air. She could imagine how gorgeous the various hiking trails in the Mystic Falls Preserve would be in this weather, still and quiet but full of possibility, the amber sunlight sweeping through them.
But Rory had never skipped a class before in her life and planned to continue on that track. After all, she wasn't going to get out of Mystic Falls if she bombed a class. She forced herself into movement, walking along the sidewalk, shaded by oaks, and heading out to the side lawn. There were students scattered everywhere and some jocks on the basketball courts.
Rory spotted Mackenzie at one of the faded picnic tables and strode over to meet her. "Hey," said Rory as she arrived and dug the lunch she'd packed herself out of her backpack.
"I hope your morning went better than mine," said Mackenzie, who from the looks of it had been scrolling through Instagram on her phone. "Mine sucked."
"Mine was—fine, but what happened to you?" asked Rory, alarmed.
Mackenzie sighed. "AP Chem happened." Rory winced sympathetically. "Not to mention your sister was in almost every one of my classes." She set her phone aside and grabbed her own brown paper bag lunch to root around in it. "It's not gonna get much better."
"It won't if you're pessimistic about it," chirped Rory.
Mackenzie rolled her eyes. "Keep your optimism to yourself and let me complain, would you? I don't even know how you're being positive right now. I bet you haven't talked to Matt."
"No, I haven't talked to Matt," Rory confirmed. She'd taken the longest route possible from her French class to her Honors American Literature class to avoid him at one point. Waving at him was—fine, but she was not in the mood to rehash another long, stilted conversation like the ones they'd had over the summer, all those times Elena had begged Rory to go downstairs and answer the door whenever she saw Matt walking up the street. "He's still into Elena."
"You really have a way of picking them," said Mackenzie. "But for real. All you have to do is ask him out. He's free and clear now."
Rory snickered. "How would I even do that? Walk up and say 'Hi, I know you're still in love with my sister, but—'"
"Okay, no," interrupted Mackenzie, pointing at Rory with a carrot stick. "You can't start with Elena."
"How else do I approach it? Do I just grab him and say 'Hey, baby, can I lick your teeth?'"
Mackenzie cackled and Lauren Rivera, their other best friend who had just appeared from seemingly nowhere, shot Rory a wary glance. "Well!" she declared as she threw her backpack to the grass. "I entered this conversation at…" She slid onto the bench beside Mackenzie, across from Rory, and grinned. "Exactly the right time!"
"Oh, stop it," said Rory with a laugh. She threw a pretzel at Lauren, who attempted to catch it and failed magnificently. "You missed half that conversation."
"I liked the half I heard," joked Lauren, winking at Rory in slow-motion.
Mackenzie coughed over a sip of Diet Coke. "What the hell was that?"
Lauren glanced at her and stole one of her carrots. "That was my seductive wink." She took a crunchy bite of carrot and gave Mackenzie a much faster wink. "That was my start-the-secret-plan wink."
"I'm sure we'd love to hear a rundown of your various winks," said Rory, "but how was your morning?"
Lauren shrugged. She was pretty, naturally tan with shoulder-length black curls and a blue clip-in. "It's over," she said, and she reached for Mackenzie's lunch bag. "What else do you have?"
"Nothing for you," retorted Mackenzie, yanking her lunch out of Lauren's reach. "Go ask someone on Yearbook for food."
"It's the first day of the year!" protested Lauren. "I can't give away my M.O. that fast." She pouted at Rory. "You've got to have something. Please? I haven't eaten in sixteen days."
"You're so weird," said Rory affectionately as she passed Lauren the rest of her pretzels.
"And you both love me for it," said Lauren. She bit a pretzel and nodded past Rory. "Have either of you met the new dude?"
Rory twisted around and found the new dude having emerged from the side door, loitering on the sidewalk beneath the oaks. From what Rory could see at this distance he seemed to be hesitating. She watched his head twitch as he presumably glanced around. Maybe he was trying to find someone to approach to sit with?
Well, Rory thought, if she'd just moved to a small town where everyone had known each other since birth, she'd certainly want someone to approach her. "You know what," said Rory as she stood, "I'm going to meet him now." She gave Lauren a somewhat appraising glance and Lauren blinked innocently back. "Try not to be—"
"My usual charming self?"
"—weird."
"That'll be hard," remarked Mackenzie.
Rory ignored the ensuing banter and strode back toward the side door, avoiding a group of sophomores sitting around on the lawn. The new guy started to turn, maybe intending to try the cafeteria or hide in one of the bathrooms. Rory quickened her pace and managed to reach him as he took one step to the side door. "Hey, new guy!"
The new guy turned back and Rory stopped a polite distance from him. He blinked at her as though surprised at being directly addressed, and a shy little half-smile turned up one corner of his mouth. "Hi," he said.
Rory couldn't resist just staring at him for a second. He really was handsome, and there was something strangely timeless about him, as though he'd stepped out of a vintage photograph of a young World War II soldier or a mugshot of an Italian mobster from some big-city speakeasy in the 1920s. "Um—you looked a little lost," Rory said at last, though it had been maybe a second too long. She tried not to fidget. "You can sit with me and my friends if you want."
When a shadow flitted across the guy's face as though he were considering declining, Rory added, "Don't worry, we don't bite."
The guy seemed to smirk at that and he ducked his head. "Sure," he decided aloud. "Yeah, I'll sit with you guys."
"Cool," chirped Rory. She started back toward the picnic table and he fell into step with her. "I'm Rory Gilbert."
"Stefan Salvatore," said the guy. Of course, thought Rory. That was a name straight from romance novels. "I, uh, think I ran into your sister earlier."
"Yep," Rory confirmed. "That'd be Elena."
Stefan gave the rest of the lawn a cursory glance. Rory couldn't determine if he was watching the jocks tackle each other and shout obscenities about the Patriots or if he was trying to find Elena. "You two aren't close?" he guessed.
"Not really," said Rory lightly. "Just because we have different interests." Stefan studied her for a second as though gauging how sincere the answer was and Rory, to avoid any further Elena questions, asked, "How's your first day been? Are you a senior?"
"Junior," Stefan corrected. "And it's been okay so far."
"Let me guess," said Rory. "At least fourteen girls have hit on you." At Stefan's modest shrug of concession Rory patted his shoulder and he glanced at her with amusement. "It's because you're new and good-looking. The shine will wear off soon enough."
Stefan snorted. "Thanks."
They came within earshot of the picnic table in time to hear Lauren giving her trademark phlegmy cackle. "How are we friends?" Mackenzie asked, tipping her head back and squinting up at the pale blue sky overhead. She seemed to be asking God for the answer. "I don't even remember meeting you."
"I'm inexplicable," said Lauren smugly.
"Lauren, Mackenzie," said Rory as she and Stefan stopped on the opposite side of the table, "this is Stefan Salvatore."
Both her best friends faced them at once. "You are hecka tall," Lauren observed.
"Stefan, this is Lauren Rivera and Mackenzie Lee," Rory concluded. She sat where she had been before, and Stefan hesitated only briefly before setting his shoulder-bag down and perching on the bench a polite distance from her.
"Nice to meet you," Stefan said to Lauren and Mackenzie with a cute little nod.
"I don't think he's that tall," said Mackenzie, regarding Stefan in calculation. She glanced back at Lauren. "You're just short."
"You're both short," offered Rory.
Lauren clapped one hand to her heart as if mortally offended. "Rory! You wound me. But because we're such good friends—"
"Otherwise known as you're the only one who always gives her food," said Mackenzie.
"—I'll let it slide," Lauren finished. She elbowed Mackenzie in the ribs and Mackenzie scooted further away from her on the bench. Lauren, unbothered, glanced back at Stefan. "So, Stefan, what's your story? Did your parents move here?"
Stefan shook his head. "My parents aren't, um, around anymore. I'm here with my uncle."
"Any siblings?" asked Mackenzie.
Stefan shrugged one shoulder. "None worth mentioning." Fair enough, thought Rory. She loved both Elena and their younger brother Jeremy, but both of them could be equally difficult, albeit in very different ways. "What about you three?" Stefan asked. He glanced at Rory. "I know you have a sister."
"Yep, and a brother," said Rory.
"I have no one," said Lauren cheerfully.
"And I have a younger brother, a younger sister, and an older sister," listed Mackenzie. At Stefan's raised eyebrows Mackenzie nodded. "I know. You do not want to see what goes on during dinner at the Lee house. Especially when it's a pizza night."
"Oh yeah!" said Lauren. "Stefan! Yes or no to pineapple on pizza?"
"Of course not," said Stefan, and to Rory's surprise and delight he already seemed to be relaxing a little, enough at least to play along with the generally sarcastic air around the table by pretending to be grim. "My family's Italian."
Lauren pouted as Mackenzie and Rory exchanged nods of approval. "What d'you think about New York-style pizza, then?"
"That's fine, as long as no fruit's involved."
The conversation continued from there, circling around food and restaurants and drawing out to sports and previous jobs and further. When the lunch period came to an end, the four of them had managed to hit quite a few topics. "What's your next class, new dude?" Lauren asked as they all stood and gathered their trash and their bags. Around them, across the lawn, other students did the same, strolling back toward the side door or around the sprawling brick building to the front or the back.
Stefan had to withdraw a neatly folded piece of paper from his bag to check it. "Uh, Physics."
"I had that this morning," offered Rory. "It's rough if you don't have a math brain."
"Wonderful," said Stefan dryly. "I very much do not have a math brain."
"I can try to impart some words of wisdom to you on the way there," said Mackenzie, who was already walking around the table. "I'm the only one here who's any good at math." Lauren and Rory just glanced at each other and shrugged, because it was true. "And my next class is past that one."
"Okay, thanks," said Stefan. He pulled his bag onto his shoulder and gave everyone else a little smile and wave. "Thanks for letting me sit with you guys."
"No worries," said Rory, and Lauren said at the same time, "See you around." Then Stefan and Mackenzie were heading across the lawn together.
The moment the pair were out of earshot, Rory and Lauren glanced back at each other. "Please tell me you've decided to have a crush on him," Lauren almost begged. "You'd be much better off with Mr. Broody Intellect than your sister's sloppy seconds."
She'd never been a fan of any of the popular jocks, the cheerleaders and football players in particular. Rory gave her a good-natured look. "You know my crushes are random." She adjusted the straps of her backpack and, once Lauren was around the table, they started back toward the side door, too. "What about you, any new crushes yet this year?"
Lauren groaned. "No, and I'm not allowed to pick! I clearly suck at it."
It was true that Rory and Mackenzie had never managed to genuinely get along with any of Lauren's girlfriends. This was saying something, considering Rory knew how to edit her personality enough to get along with pretty much anyone. "Then neither of us are allowed to pick," Rory decided. "We'll have Mackenzie point people out to us."
"Yeah, she does have a knack for giving good relationship advice," agreed Lauren. She clapped Rory's shoulder. "I guess that's that, then! No pining or choosing crushes until we get Mackenzie's approval."
"Good plan."
That afternoon, when school ended, Rory stopped by her locker one last time before she left for her Monday shift at the Mystic Grill. She'd managed to snag the job over the summer, after she'd come back from the softball camp she'd worked in Charlottesville. The house had been too stifling and strange to bear, and it couldn't hurt to at least try and make some money now that their parents were gone and they only had their savings and Jenna's bank account to keep the lights on.
The Mystic Grill was one of the easiest places to land a job as a high school student. It was one of the most popular restaurants downtown, on the main square near the courthouse, a line of locally owned shops, and a few other municipal buildings—and since Mystic Falls was the quintessential small town, most of the municipal buildings were in refinished brick mansions, all historic and charming.
Rory parked in the lot around the back and followed the sidewalk, squinting against the bright afternoon sunlight, to pass the outdoor tables and enter through the main door. Inside the Mystic Grill had plenty of tables and booths as well as dartboards, two pool tables, and a well-populated bar. Rory wended her way through tables to the swinging wooden double-doors to the back, exchanging greetings and waves with coworkers as she went.
In the back room, near the manager's office, the only break room had just a few dented beige metal lockers. As a result Rory and most of her coworkers just shoved their belongings into the cabinets beneath the sink. Rory did so and changed into her uniform blue V-neck, and once she had pulled her long curly dark brown hair back, she washed her hands, grabbed an apron and a pad of paper, and walked out to take over her section.
The first half of Rory's shift passed at lightning speed. Most of her tables consisted of students from Mystic Falls High and Central High, their rival and the only other public school in town. When the parents and twenty-somethings started drifting in as the hour grew later, the orders became a little pricklier, but Rory had, in the past two months, already endured much worse. She had just obtained two glasses of ice water—with two lemons each and four ice cubes, because Table 12 was being picky—when she spotted Vicki Donovan.
Vicki had been one of Rory's more common coworkers over the past couple months, but Rory was not interested in having to make small talk now that she knew Vicki, for some unknown length of time, had been hooking up with her ex-boyfriend. Rory dodged her by outright jumping behind the nearest dishrack—she waited, listening to the kitchen guys joking around and the manager attempting to expedite orders, for Vicki to vanish into the back room before she dared to emerge again.
Just then Rachel Major, another one of Rory's usual coworkers, stepped into the kitchen, and she stopped to furrow her eyebrows at Rory. "Who are you hiding from?"
"No one," said Rory at once.
Rachel folded her arms as she surveyed Rory critically. "Really? You just decided to hang out behind a dishrack with a couple of weird lemon waters?"
That made Rory half-smile despite herself. "Yeah, it's a great pastime."
"Sure," said Rachel, but she shook her head good-naturedly and kept walking.
Rory left for the restaurant floor again and delivered the waters to Table 12. She checked in on a few other tables, trying to surreptitiously keep one eye on the back and Vicki's section, and she had to chat for a couple of minutes with a middle-aged dad who thought he was hilarious before she returned to the kitchen—
Where she came face-to-face with Vicki.
They both stopped. Vicki placed one hand on her hip and tilted her head a little in defiance, even though Rory hadn't said anything. "I guess Tyler told you."
"That you two are hooking up?" said Rory. She exhaled. "Yeah. It would've been nice to have a warning ahead of time."
"It's better coming from him."
Rory and Vicki studied each other for a second, Rory a little wary and guarded and Vicki already defensive. Vicki was definitely pretty, tan with a natural pout that meant she always looked sultry, as well as hazel eyes and perfect wavy brown hair with honey highlights. She was a senior and usually friendly and funny. Rory couldn't help but wonder which of these qualities had attracted Tyler—
Stop, thought Rory sternly. It didn't even matter. "I just thought we were friends."
"I mean, we are," said Vicki, lifting her shoulders, "but we've only been working together for, like, a few weeks."
If you start dating my ex without warning me, we're clearly not friends, Rory thought, but she couldn't say it. She caught sight of another coworker, Aja Quinn, waving at her from a few feet back, which probably meant one of Rory's tables was ready. "Just—be careful, okay?" said Rory as she stepped around Vicki. "He's, um, not a gentleman, and he broke up with me over the phone while I was out of town."
With that information imparted Rory hurried to the back to grab the plates for Table 10. She gave Vicki wide berth when they passed each other again and then proceeded to try and ignore her for the rest of her shift.
At least Rory was provided with distractions—more classmates from Mystic Falls High poured in and snagged booths or clustered around the pool tables. Both Tyler and Matt came in with a few other football jocks and sat in Vicki's section. Rory tried to seem too busy to stop by and chat with either of them, though she could tell from her peripheral vision Matt seemed to be trying to catch her eye to wave or say hi.
Lauren stopped by to visit a couple of hours before Rory's shift was set to end. "Oh thank God," breathed Rory when she reached Lauren's booth. Lauren glanced up from the comic book she was reading, eyebrows raised. "It's—been a night. You want a Cherry Coke?"
"Heck yeah," said Lauren brightly. "What's going on, though?" She glanced around the Grill and winced. "Never mind, I know."
Rory nodded and left for the kitchen to grab Lauren's ordered Cherry Coke. She didn't let herself slow down much again until it was time for her five-minute break, during which she weaved through tables until she reached Lauren's booth again. She slid onto the leather bench across from Lauren and folded her arms on the polished wooden table. It smelled like disinfectant and the cheese fries Rory had brought over twenty minutes before.
Although Rory knew the remaining ones had to be cold, she stole a couple. "So," she said as Lauren watched her with amusement and sympathy, "how'd volleyball go?"
Lauren fiddled with her comic book. "It was alright. Peyton avoided me."
Peyton Goddard was one of Lauren's more irritating exes. They'd broken up halfway through the year before, and the relationship had not ended amicably for anyone. "That's better than picking fights, right?" offered Rory.
"For sure," Lauren confirmed. Then she twisted her lips as though in thought. "Can you remind me why we broke up?"
"Oh no," said Rory with a rush of genuine fear. "You cannot go back to the Peyton place. She said she would throw your mother under the bus during any argument."
Lauren paused. "Oh yeah." Then she laughed. "I can't believe I forgot about that. Good thing you're here to remind me," she added, swatting at Rory's arm across the table. "That would've been about as bad as you getting back together with You-Know-Who."
"And that is never happening," concluded Rory. "He's already over me anyway."
Lauren took another quick look around, perhaps in search of Vicki or Voldemort—but her eyes widened and she smacked Rory's arm again, this time with more gusto. "Oh my gosh. Look who your sister just walked in with."
Rory did—
And she saw Elena walking in with Stefan Salvatore.
"How?" Rory asked, even as she watched Matt approach them, his shoulders hunched and muscles tense, resembling a territorial lion. "It's been one day. He even sat with us at lunch! How did she manage this?!"
"I will never understand the minds of men," said Lauren solemnly.
Rory watched, increasingly incredulous, as Elena and Stefan sat down in Rachel's section. Bonnie Bennett, one of Elena's best friends, had already claimed the table, and a few seconds later Caroline Forbes from Student Council appeared from thin air to join them. Elena shrugged out of her black leather jacket to hang it on the back of her chair as Stefan did the same with his. Past them, already back with the football players, Rory could see Matt staring at the table, expression unreadable.
Rory started to slide back out of the booth. "Oh no," said Lauren quickly. "Do not go flirt with Stefan."
"How did you know that I—?" Rory started, feigning indignance. At Lauren's knowing look Rory rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. But look at him! She got Matt and she even got Anthony Clarke in eighth grade." Anthony had only gone to Mystic Falls Middle for one year, but during that year almost every girl in their grade had fallen in love with him. Elena had been the one to snag him with no effort whatsoever on her part. "Now she gets Mr. Broody Intellect. I need to know her secret."
"No you don't," Lauren countered. "When the right person comes along you'll know."
Rory wanted to believe that, she sincerely did, but—at this rate waiting for anything seemed to be a waste of time. Then again, she could chalk up not dating anyone else until college to waiting, Rory mused. Waiting for college did make sense—once Rory was out of Mystic Falls she was going to stay gone, no matter who was still there.
She remained with Lauren for a few more minutes as they switched to discussing their respective sports, because both the volleyball team and softball team, respectively, had lost key players to graduation. Her break time, however, came to an end. "Thanks for visiting," Rory told Lauren. "I've got your bill."
"No, dude," Lauren started.
Rory held up her hand. "Nope. Not hearing it." She flashed a smile at Lauren and slid back out of the booth.
"You can do this," said Lauren. "You're a strong, confident woman, and you will not try to flirt with the Italian guy in front of your sister in some sort of weird power play."
"Oh, hush," said Rory with a laugh, and she left the table to return to the back.
At least she only had a few tables left in her section, a testament to the hour. None of them were particularly difficult and one even tipped generously, which cheered Rory up a little. Maybe she could end this strange shift on a high note.
But Matt caught her walking to the back when she had half an hour left. "Hey, Rory," he called as she tried to quicken her pace without breaking into an outright sprint. Rory gritted her teeth and, partly because he had to know she was within earshot and it would have been rude to ignore him and partly because she was incapable of openly snubbing him, she faced him. He was watching her with sincere concern. "How are you doing?"
It was even worse because of how genuine he seemed. "I'll—be fine," said Rory, and she forced a smile. "What about you, how are you? How was your first day back?"
Matt half-smiled charmingly. He was definitely good-looking in that all-American way, lightly tan with sportily short blond hair and blue eyes. At least he didn't have his denim jacket or his letterman's jacket to complete the look and do in Rory entirely. "It was alright. Tanner really seems ready to kick our asses this year."
Mr. Tanner was both the history teacher and the football coach. "He's probably still pissed about losing to Central High," Rory half-joked back.
"Are you kidding? I'm still pissed about that," Matt returned. A second later he glanced back over his shoulder, and when he faced Rory again, all the amusement had disappeared. "So, ah. Listen. I wanted to ask…do you know what's going on with Elena and the new guy?"
Of course.
Of course of course of course. All he'd done all summer was make polite conversation until he could ask about how Elena was doing, how Elena was dealing with their parents' deaths, how Elena was coping with their breakup, ad infinitum, as Rory slowly lost her fucking mind—
Because for as long as she could remember she and Elena were a package deal. Neither of them were their own person—they were twins, the Gilbert twins, Elena and Rory, and their parents used to give them coordinated outfits and put them in the same after-school activities and take them to the same places and for years they'd had all the same friends, Bonnie and Caroline and Matt.
And somehow the memorable twin had always been Elena. It was always, always Elena and Rory, never Rory and Elena, even though Rory had been born first. Elena's favorite radio station always played in the minivan, and whenever their entire family saw a movie they saw some contemporary drama for Elena rather than a period drama for Rory or an action movie for Jeremy. Rory had always been there but she'd only been there to serve as a backdrop for Elena, to help Elena—but the worst part of it was that it had never been Elena's fault.
Rory did her best to keep her expression clear as she focused on Matt, who was staring at her and waiting for an answer about her little sister. "I—don't know," said Rory, and fortunately her voice came out steady. "You'll have to ask her."
"Right," said Matt. He looked back at Elena's table just in time to see all of them burst into laughter at something Caroline had said, and his shoulders lowered. "I'll see you later, Rory," said Matt, and he wandered away, back toward the pool tables, where Vicki had stopped to flirt with Tyler while on the clock.
Rory looked at them without really seeing them for a long moment, breathing in the smells of steak and beer, listening to the clatter and chatter of the remaining customers and doing her best to hold it together even though her ribs seemed to be parting. Then she mechanically turned around and resumed walking into the kitchen to grab a to-go cup for Table 15.
