Winter break came fast, and before she knew it, her first semester at Harmon College had come to a close. By the time they got back for the new year and new semester, Dr. Bartlow would have their final assignments graded and the standings for the competition updated. Of course, as Elena had spent a good portion of the last two weeks working on and stressing about her project, she felt confident. She'd turned down multiple invitations to gather with her classmates on weeknights and weekends, so certainly none of them could have been studying too hard.
Despite insisting several times that she didn't need a place to stay over the break, Damon still gave her a key to the house and a copy of his and Marcus' itinerary. Why had he gone so far out of his way to be nice to her? Certainly, he wasn't just a nice person all of a sudden. It had to be a part of some greater scheme. Her thoughts started to sound oddly like Elizabeth Bennett's, though Damon was no Mr. Darcy by any stretch of the imagination. And besides, she was certain he was out to get her and not just some shy misunderstood Mr. Darcy type.
Though Caroline had tried for several hours to convince her not to worry about the disguise over break, Elena still showed up to the house in trousers, a sweater, and a long wool coat. Carrying her trunk from the carriage to the front door was an endeavor, and the chilly wind didn't help. She'd only made it halfway when the front door opened.
She dropped one handle of the trunk (as she'd been dragging it along behind her), and was about to open her mouth when she realized the person at the door wasn't Caroline at all.
"Need some help with that, Gilbert?" Damon called, leaning against the door frame. Clearly, he'd only opened the door to watch her struggle. According to the itinerary he'd provided, they were supposed to be out of town already.
Elena rolled her eyes dramatically, hoping that he could still see her annoyance from fifteen feet away. Ignoring him, she continued dragging the trunk along the path.
He stepped outside anyway. Meeting her where she was, he picked up the other handle, lifting the trunk from the ground. Then, he slipped his hand over hers and took the other handle, too. But he didn't say anything, just disappeared back into the house, carrying it with no issue.
Why hadn't he left already? She never would have come if she knew he'd be here to gloat about it. This was supposed to be an easy in and out before anyone even knew about it kind of deal. Now he knew.
With bright pink cheeks and a freezing cold nose, she got over her stubborn desire to stand outside until he left and stomped into the house.
"You're here!" Caroline jumped up from one of the lush couches and rushed over to envelope Elena in a hug.
"Only because he wasn't supposed to be," she grumbled.
Caroline pinched one of her frozen cheeks. "Oh, cheer up. He'll be gone by tomorrow. Then we'll have the place to ourselves for the next few weeks."
Thank god. She'd gotten through four months of Damon Salvatore, she supposed one more day wouldn't kill her.
"Sit down, you look freezing. I'll make us something warm to drink," Caroline said, giving Elena's arm a squeeze before disappearing through the living room and into the kitchen without waiting for a response.
Of course, that warm drink turned out to be incredibly alcoholic. Even after having three of them, Elena still wasn't certain what they actually were. But by the fourth one, she didn't really care. Nor did she care that Damon and Marcus had interrupted their drinking session with their own. Except, of course, they drank bourbon in crystal cut glasses and sat on the couch barely speaking to one another. Caroline and Elena, however, kept exchanging glances. More than once, Elena had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
The living room itself was monstrous in size. It featured one wall lined with bookshelves and a fireplace on another. Beside the fireplace were the l-shaped stairs that led to the massive quantity of guest rooms. Another offshoot of the living room led to what Elena expected were even more bedrooms, bathrooms, and bookshelves. Across from the fireplace, a long countertop that offered a view into the luxurious kitchen. That's where Caroline stood, crafting strange chocolatey infusions.
The other side of the room, across from the bookshelves, had floor to ceiling windows with black panels cutting the huge glass into smaller squares. In front of those windows stood the black grand piano she'd listened to Damon pluck away at more than once, not that she would ever pay him another compliment about it for the rest of her life. The first time had been too embarrassing.
In the center of the room, a heavy octagonal coffee table held Damon, Marcus, and Elena's drinks while they lounged around it. There were two deep red couches with dark wooden details on the arms and backs. Filling in the gaps on the side were matching wing-back chairs with ottomans. And of course, there were many a soft item to be found strewn about.
The space, while quite large, was still cozy. Warmed by the fireplace, with a window to the stars, and a vast collection of books? Elena could get used to this.
Caroline, clearly bored out of her mind by the concept of sitting around in silence, cleared her throat, causing three heads to turn in her direction.
"Something to say, dear sister?" Marcus asked without looking up from his book.
"Is this all you do? Drink and read. It's so very boring," she said. And Elena, with no schoolwork looming over her head, actually agreed. If there was a time for drinking, it was now.
"And what would you propose?" asked Damon.
"Oh, I don't know," Caroline said dramatically, like making a decision weighed heavily on her. "Perhaps the theater or even a dance hall."
Marcus and Damon exchanged a look that Elena caught but couldn't place. They seemed to have their own secret language, those two. Just as James and John did, but more difficult for onlookers to understand.
"I'd like to finish War and Peace before the night's end. But Salvatore will go with you," said Marcus, flipping to the next page.
Damon shot a glare in Marcus' direction but stood up anyway. "Fine, Caroline. Anything for you. Let me get changed and we'll go to The Hall." As he walked toward the stairs he looked back at the group. "Marcus has something that might fit you, Gilbert. You can't go in that."
She raised an eyebrow at him and then looked over her shoulder to Caroline.
"He's right, that's too… drab."
Her eyebrows knit together in the middle. How dare they. These were good, high-quality hand-me-downs. Certainly, they weren't as nice as what the other gentlemen wore on a regular basis, but they were fine, right? Caroline shook her head like she knew exactly what thoughts went through Elena's mind. Her mouth fell open in shock. Why hadn't anyone told her this before?
"Oh, it's fine. Don't be dramatic. I'll help you pick something out," Caroline said, taking Elena's hand and pulling her along to Marcus' room.
"Caroline!" Elena said once the door closed behind them. "What were you thinking? I can't go to a dance hall, I don't, I've never—"
The blonde held up a nice suit jacket and a freshly pressed white button up shirt. "Hush, it's going to be fine. You don't even have to dance."
"I certainly won't!"
"That's the spirit," Caroline said as she laid out the clothes on Marcus' bed. "Try these on."
"I'm going to look foolish!" Elena cried, suddenly longing for the sparkly purple dress tucked in the upstairs closet.
Caroline grabbed her shoulders. "For goodness sake, Elena. Pull yourself together. No one ever goes out with me. Do not ruin this."
Elena stood up straighter and gave a salute. "Aye, aye, Captain."
Caroline nodded firmly, then they both burst into laughter. Only Elena slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the other from hearing her girlish laughs.
The unlikely trio walked into the dance hall, aptly named "The Hall" together. The large brick building featured a tiled floor with a bar running down each side of the room. Bartenders in smart outfits took orders and women in sequined dresses delivered them on trays throughout the crowd. Caroline was right, Elena would have looked wholly out of place in her sweater and worn trousers. Everyone inside was dressed to the nines. The women wore sequined dresses with patterns, in various colors. And the men wore fitted jackets with pressed pants and hats of all shapes and sizes. She'd never seen anything like it before in her life.
And while most of the patrons danced in small groups or couples in the center of the room, there were also tables to stand and talk at around the edges, and booths in the back that provided even more privacy.
Damon lowered his head slightly so she could still hear his words over the roar of the music and asked, "Never been to a dance hall before?" At the very back of the room sat a stage with a woman in a floor length gown singing her heart out, backed by a band and orchestra.
She shook her head, totally entranced by the atmosphere.
"Come on, Gilbert. Don't just stand there, or we'll lose Caroline," Damon said, motioning for her to follow. She snapped out of her shock and awe and followed.
Caroline had already found a place at the bar and lifted her hand to call over one of the bartenders. She held up three fingers with a smile, and the bartender got to work.
While the other girl seemed in her element, Elena wished to make herself smaller so no one would look too closely in her direction. Unfortunately for her, as they stood at one of the smaller tables waiting for Caroline to return, Damon's eyes found hers. How long had he been looking? Could he see the absolute panic on her face?
He looked just about to say something when Caroline returned with three drinks in hand. These drinks were much more glamorous than what they drank at home. In similar crystal glasses, amber liquid mingled with an orange peel, a few cherries, and one large ice cube.
She'd barely had a chance to finish her drink before Caroline grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the mass of dancers. "Come on, let's dance," she said. Elena turned back to look at Damon, mouthing the word help. He responded with an amused expression, raising both eyebrows and shaking his head.
Caroline was a natural, whereas Elena had never danced in her entire life. She watched the other men in the club, most of whom didn't seem to know what they were doing either. Thank god.
Exhausted after dancing for what felt like hours, Elena and Caroline joined the wallflowers on the outskirts, sipping at new drinks. As much as Elena loathed to admit it, she searched the crowd for Damon.
It didn't take long for someone else to arrive and pull Caroline away, leaving Elena alone to watch the crowd. Her mind immediately drifted. It had been only a short few months since she'd left home, but things had changed so drastically. To think that all of her time used to be spent within the Gilbert home. Nearly always in her room, only sometimes outside or with Jeremy, almost never allowed into proper society. And now she was here, fully engulfed in, well, perhaps not proper society, but society. She had friends, even if they occasionally bullied her, and she had the freedom to read whatever books she desired, learn whatever information she craved.
If she could tell her old self, even from just a year ago, young Elena wouldn't believe it.
As she took another sip of her drink, her eyes spotted Damon across the room. They looked up at the same time, finding each other. She lifted her drink to him in a cheers, and he smiled. He smiled. At her. On purpose. Were her cheeks… warm?
He crossed the room, and Elena steeled herself for another painstaking conversation, but it didn't come. He stopped in front of a petite young woman in a black dress with fringe that swished back and forth as she moved. Extending his hand, he pulled the woman into the mess of other dancers.
"You're staring," Caroline said. "You know that, right? That you're staring."
She hadn't even noticed the blonde arrive. Even though she heard the words, she couldn't keep her eyes off Damon as he danced with the girl in black.
"Oh my god, you're drooling," Caroline snapped her fingers in front of Elena's face. "You really need to get it together. It's embarrassing."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Elena said, coughing to clear her throat before turning to look at her friend.
"You are as red as a tomato."
"I am not!" Elena gasped, putting a hand to her cheek. "It's just the alcohol." Caroline kept staring at her with a you look so guilty expression. She couldn't help but smile at her friend. "Hush, would you?"
"Oh, never. Personally, I think you should talk to him," Caroline started.
"About what?" Elena asked with scrunched eyebrows. "What would I even say? Hey Salvatore—"
Caroline shook her head, her eyes glancing behind Elena. She nearly groaned, knowing exactly who awaited her. She pressed her lips into a tight line and swirled on her heel to face him. He stood directly in front of her, so close they almost touched.
"Hey, Gilbert," he said coyly, looking down at her. "Everything alright?"
All of the words fell out of her brain in that moment. Frantically she searched for something to say. Instead, she just stared at him. He must have thought her insane. The strangest man he'd ever met, likely. But instead, he just took a step back and let out a dry laugh. "I'll get us another round."
She stayed facing away from Caroline until Damon was out of earshot, then quickly whipped back around, glaring daggers at her friend. "You are going to get me in trouble."
"You're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep looking at him like that."
"I'm not, I don't know, shut up!" Elena stammered. They looked at each other for a beat after that, completely straight faced, then burst into laughter once more. Yes, this would be a friendship for life, Elena was certain.
Somehow, she managed to make it through the rest of the night with her dignity intact. After hours of dancing and drinking, the trio took a carriage back to the Salvatore house. Caroline insisted they keep the party going, which resulted in them promptly passing out on the couch only a few minutes after, unfinished drinks leaving rings on the coffee table.
The next morning, Elena woke up with a pounding headache, the likes of which she'd never experienced before. However, the two equally drunk friends who'd passed out with her had since disappeared, likely to their own rooms. Elena still wasn't even certain which guest room she'd actually be staying in. Damon had carried her trunk upstairs and left it somewhere.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Caroline said, her voice much too chipper for the amount they'd drank.
"How are you alive?" Elena asked. A blanket had been thrown over her, and her hair was a mess (hat, somehow, still on). She'd definitely drooled all over one of the nice pillows and made a wrinkled mess out of Marcus' suit. But Caroline looked picture perfect, freshly showered, fresh clothes, and a smile. Elena groaned and pulled the blanket over her head.
Caroline placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of Elena and patted her on the shoulder. "Marcus and Damon left, by the way. You don't have to pretend anymore if you don't want to."
Now that got her off the couch. Not that she had any of her own clothes around to wear. But it would at least be nice to keep her hair down. The hat had started to give her a headache.
"So…" Caroline started, extending the o's for far too long. "Did you like The Hall? Would you want to go again? Maybe, you know, as you?"
Elena looked at her through half open eyes as she reached for the warm mug of coffee. "Ask me again in twenty four hours once I've recovered." But she already knew the answer. She did want to go, risks be damned.
A/N: Thanks so much for checking out this chapter! I'm so, so excited about where this is going and I can't wait to keep sharing it with you! From here, updates will likely get back to normal (once a week). Or maybe after the next chapter (which I'm very excited about). We shall see!