A/N: This one's short, but the next one's pretty long!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
After a relatively sleepless Thursday night, Rory left for school early, avoiding her aunt's questions with vague excuses about a club meeting. It was another warm September morning, the sky clear overhead, and there was still dew on the grassy lawn when Rory pulled into the Mystic Falls High parking lot and took her already usual parking spot.
She remained in the driver's seat for a few minutes, thinking about the acrid cigarette smoke that seemed to tickle her nose and the Three Dog Night cassette in the stereo, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. She couldn't just sit there and wait for Mackenzie and Lauren to arrive, though—instead Rory grabbed her floral-patterned backpack and climbed out onto the asphalt and into that morning air. She crossed the parking lot to the sidewalk and turned to pace up and down it for a few minutes as other cars pulled in.
Rory didn't retreat to the spiraling oak tree in the lawn until other students started to crowd the sidewalk. She waved to a few classmates and other members of Student Council in passing and had to stop to talk to one of the other softball players before she was able to loiter at the base of the oak tree, where she walked back and forth over the roots twisting out of the dirt and grass, fidgeting with the end of her fitted white T-shirt.
Mackenzie joined her first, and Lauren arrived a few minutes after. She came jogging over from where she'd been talking to a couple of other volleyball girls. "Finally," said Mackenzie when Lauren was in earshot. "She wouldn't tell me anything until you got here."
"I'm here," chirped Lauren. She and Mackenzie faced Rory. "What's up?"
Rory craned her neck to glance around her two best friends and the tree, triple-checking to ensure no one else was within hearing distance. As the sun brightened overhead, slanting over the top edge of the school building, Rory beckoned her friends closer. She leaned in and said in a low voice, "Damon Salvatore is the murderer."
"Salva—Salvatore?!" Lauren shrieked.
"Oh my God," blurted Mackenzie at the same time.
"Shush!" Rory hissed at both of them. She had to quickly check again—fortunately the only people nearby were some awkward freshmen, who seemed distracted enough by their own hushed conversation that they might not have noticed the outbursts. Rory leaned back in and Mackenzie and Lauren mimicked the movement. "Both Damon and Stefan are vampires, but Stefan at least seems much less interested in murder."
"That's something," remarked Mackenzie with evident sarcasm. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jesus, I can't believe this. What sort of town do we live in?" She dropped her hand and squinted up at the green leaves of the oak tree overhead as though asking it for the answer. "Why?"
"Beats me," said Rory.
Lauren had turned to start pacing, moving slowly back and forth through the damp grass, both palms pressed to her temples. "Oh my gosh," she said, and she managed to keep her voice low. "There are two vampires in Mystic Falls, Virginia. One is a serial killer and the other one's…in high school?"
Mackenzie lowered her gaze to frown at both Lauren and Rory. "Yeah, I don't get that either. Why would he put himself through this? He could be anywhere."
"He said last night he wants to be normal," reported Rory with a shrug. "And maybe that's why he's, um. Into Elena."
"Oh, ew," cried Lauren. She returned to Rory and Mackenzie, her expression somewhere between horrified and revolted. "What kind of age gap is that?"
Mackenzie swatted Lauren's arm as Rory checked again to ensure no one had overhead. Although the freshmen had moved closer to the building, a collection of soccer players seemed to have replaced them—from what Rory could hear, though, they were busy dismantling something the jock Pietro Vasari had done over the weekend.
Rory faced her friends again. "I don't know if their minds don't age," she said, and both of them seemed startled by the concept. "But back to Damon—he seems to have been murdering people to ensure some secret anti-vampire council made of Founding Families reconvenes, and he wants me to join it."
Lauren seemed even further bewildered and concerned as Mackenzie spluttered a laugh. "Why?!"
"I have no idea," Rory concluded. "He's going to text or call, or something."
The first bell rang out across the lawn. All three of them jumped and then exchanged longsuffering glances as they simultaneously started toward the school building. "I guess we'll have to continue this discussion at lunch," said Mackenzie bracingly.
"Later might be better," Rory countered. "Vampires have super-hearing."
"Of course they do," said Mackenzie, throwing her hands up.
Lauren had glanced aside and seemed to silently converse with someone through a series of facial expressions and gestures. "I'll see you two later," she said, and she patted Rory's shoulder in a sympathetic and supportive manner before she left, jogging over to join a few swimmers.
Mackenzie gave a gusty sigh. "I'm still not over Lauren being right about the whole—uh, thing," she said as she and Rory drew closer to the navy double-doors. An unfortunate sophomore seemed to have gotten stuck holding one open for everyone. "How are we supposed to deal with any of this?"
"No idea," said Rory. She felt rather as though she had yet to come to terms with the concept of vampires existing in Mystic Falls, Virginia at all, much less determine how she and her friends were supposed to handle a murderous one with a mysterious plot. She wasn't even sure how she was meant to focus on schoolwork.
She did make a valiant attempt, though, in her morning classes. When Rory left Physics and automatically started down the hall to find the vending machine with Coke Zero, she felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her denim jacket. With a wave of instinctive apprehension she slowed and—after exchanging a forced smile and wave with another softball player—she stepped over to the wall near the open door to the Biology classroom.
Please don't be from Damon, Rory thought as she withdrew her phone from her pocket. She clicked the screen on—
But of course it was from that row of angry emojis.
DAMON: hey so operation join the founders council starts now. you should get a hold of the journals from the civil war by johnathan gilbert
Rory raised her eyebrows. Stefan had mentioned that he was born in the 1840s, hadn't he? That meant he and Damon must have been roughly their current ages around the time of the Civil War. I can't believe that thought makes sense.
She stifled a sigh and texted back.
RORY: What is that supposed to do?
DAMON: less questioning, more doing
Rory rolled her jaw as a low burn of irritation set in. Rather than answer him again she set her phone to silent, shoved it into her pocket, and resumed her walk to the vending machine with Coke Zero. Despite herself—although she was loath to assist Damon Salvatore, murderer and creep extraordinaire—she was already curious about the Civil War journals.
She had no idea where to start searching for them, though, and she did her best to force the thought from her mind. This worked until she had made it two turns toward the side lawn, because Stefan materialized from nowhere to match her pace. "What is it?" Rory asked him without waiting for a greeting. She glanced past him to see where he'd come from and had to guess at either the AP US classroom or the knot of students loitering near a set of lockers.
Stefan had the decency to look embarrassed. "I just—wanted to check in."
"I've only told Mackenzie and Lauren," said Rory shortly. She waved at one of Lauren's volleyball friends and the other girl openly checked out Stefan. "And none of us are going to tell anyone else."
"That's fine, I just—I really am checking in," said Stefan.
Rory glanced toward him with a hint of surprise. He seemed sincere, his expression honest, and at this polite distance his eyes appeared a deeper green than the oak leaves outside. At least, Rory thought reluctantly, the vampire that had elected to pursue her sister was the sweet one. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "As long as your brother doesn't decide I need to do his dirty work."
Stefan grimaced. "I'm sorry about him." He reached the side door first and pushed it open to allow Rory through, and when she had moved out into the cooler but sunny afternoon air, beneath the trees, he trailed after her. "I've never known how to deal with him."
Fair enough, thought Rory. If her relationship with either of her siblings seemed complicated she couldn't imagine what Stefan and Damon's must have been like.
The thought of her siblings made her realize—Rory automatically glanced around to find Elena, even though she knew Elena and Bonnie always sat in the cafeteria, near the vending machine with Cherry Coke. Aside from a few cheerleaders practicing cartwheels in the grass, a collection of sophomores talking as they sprawled on the gently sloping lawn, and Lauren and Mackenzie watching from the usual picnic table, there wasn't anyone else outside.
Rory faced Stefan, who was already looking at her. "Don't you want to find Elena?"
To her surprise Stefan gave a half-hearted shrug. "She's in most of my classes." He fiddled with the strap of his shoulder-bag. "Would you, um, mind if I sat with you?"
"No," decided Rory without having to give it much thought. She turned to lead the way to the picnic table and Stefan matched her stride. "I'm sure Mackenzie and Lauren want to slam you with questions."
"Sounds good," said Stefan, and soon the two approached the table. Both Mackenzie and Lauren were openly staring, wide-eyed—and when Rory reached the table and slung her backpack around to set it beside Lauren, the other girl blinked rapidly at Stefan.
Lauren pointed at him as he halted near the end of the table. "You don't sparkle."
"Uh, no," said Stefan with a ghost of a smile turning up one corner of his mouth. "I do not."
"And you don't have color-changing eyes."
"Not really."
"And—"
Rory couldn't resist interrupting. "Would you let the man sit down first?" Although Lauren pouted at her, Stefan shot her a look of relief as he moved around the table to sit more than a polite distance away from Mackenzie. She still slid down as far as possible from him, one hand on her Diet Coke, and eyed him with suspicion.
"Do you know any faeries?" Lauren asked.
"Uh—not personally, but I know they exist."
"They do not!" Lauren yelped—as all three of the others around the table jumped she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Wait," said Mackenzie at last. She set her Diet Coke bottle down to lift her palm and indicate the rest of the conversation needed to stop. "Before we even start to go into this." She rotated to better face Stefan—and after regarding him for a long second she burst, "Why the fuck would you choose to go through this bullshit when you could be in goddamn Greece?!"
Although a few of the other students outside glanced over, their heads turning in Rory's peripheral vision, she didn't bother shushing Mackenzie. Instead she, and Lauren, waited for Stefan's answer. Under the scrutiny Stefan rubbed the back of his neck, visibly flushed. "I—uh. For obvious reasons never really got to do anything normal. And I miss—" He stopped. "I just…like fitting in."
"Yikes," said Mackenzie matter-of-factly.
Rory bit her lip as Lauren hummed in agreement. "Yikes is right. Sorry, new dude, but you're going on what, two hundred here?"
"To be fair," Rory offered despite everything, "he can't have many peers his age." She glanced toward Stefan. He was handsome, but in the sincere expression and tilt of his head he seemed to have an unspeakable melancholy emanating from him. She couldn't even start to imagine being two hundred years old, staying the same as the rest of the world turned. "Do you?"
Stefan shook his head.
For a moment both Mackenzie and Lauren studied him. Then Mackenzie sighed. "Whatever," she decided aloud. She seemed to settle more against the picnic table, unscrewing the cap on her Diet Coke. "At least you're not psychotic." Her gaze flickered toward Rory as if to silently add As far as we can tell, and Rory could only shrug back.
"…thank you?" guessed Stefan.
"How've you heard about faeries?" Lauren asked. She started drumming her short blue-painted nails on the table. "Are there werewolves?" She straightened a little as if to peer into Stefan's backpack, set on the bench beside him. "And do you have any food, or does it taste like dirt to you?"
The conversation proceeded and all four of them relaxed more as lunch continued. When the bell rang out across the lawn, Mackenzie volunteered to walk Stefan to Physics again, as she had their first day, and he agreed. As the two started back toward the building Stefan shot a glance back over his shoulder toward Rory that she could only interpret as grateful, and she waved.
When the pair had vanished back into the building, Rory and Lauren faced each other. "He's so sweet," said Lauren, and she heaved a sigh, pushing one hand back through her messy dark hair. She had a pink clip-in that brightened in the sun. "But he's two hundred."
"I know," said Rory wryly. She slung her floral-patterned backpack onto her shoulders. "He might get bored soon, before anything goes too far with my sister."
"Let's hope," said Lauren, and the two exchanged grim nods before walking back to the main building themselves.
