Despite months passing between now and her meeting with the detective, his words were lodged firmly in her brain. Words about the potential of supernatural creatures existing in the world around her. It still seemed inane, completely unrealistic, and borderline idiotic. But still, as time passed, she began to see everything differently, began to question everything around her just a little bit more. And while she didn't see the detective again, he'd permanently altered her way of thinking.
At the beginning of May, the end of the semester coming to a close after a grueling year of intensive study and far too many alcoholic beverages for an entire lifetime, Elena and Damon had finally wrapped up their project. And though they couldn't be considered best friends by any stretch of the imagination, they'd begun to tolerate each other's existence.
Elena sat with her legs crossed on Damon's couch. She'd been spending more and more time at his apartment lately, just the two of them. Though, it was mostly under the guise of finishing their project. However, they weren't in as much of a rush to separate from one another once the work was done. In this case, they'd just wrapped up their very last review of the work they'd completed together.
"I think it turned out alright," Elena said, taking a sip of the drink Damon had just placed in her hand.
He shook his head, laughing under his breath.
"What?" Elena asked, raising one brow.
"Complimenting our work is such a challenge for you?"
"Fine. It's good."
"It's great, Gilbert. We make a good team." He reached out and clinked his glass against hers. "It's okay, you can admit it. I won't hold it against you."
"Fine," she said again, looking at him over the rim of her glass, eyes only slightly narrowed. "We make a good team. Sometimes. When you're not being stubborn."
"You mean when you're not being controlling?"
She looked around for something to throw at him. "I am not controlling."
"Gilbert," he said her name accusatorially, eliciting a scowl in response.
"Don't Gilbert me, I am not more controlling than you are, Mr. He can't be let into the society no matter what."
Those words seemed to suck all of the air out of the room, leaving behind a heavy tension as Damon leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.
"I—" Elena stammered, uncertain. The words had just slipped out unbidden. She barely even thought about those early days anymore, months ago when she'd thought he hated her entirely. Nowadays, the thoughts were more confused than anything else. Mostly I know he must like me, but there's something else I'm missing. And sometimes, apparently, that confused feeling, not resentment, but something else, sometimes it came out when she wasn't thinking. "I'm sorry, I know that was a long time ago."
"Doesn't make it any less true," Damon said, catching her off guard.
"I'm sorry?"
"It is a bad idea for you to join this secret society."
"Me?" she finished her drink and dropped the glass heavily on the table, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned forward to look him in the eye. "Why only me? Why not you?"
"Harmon's Great Minds… it's not what you think."
"And that's all the information you're able to give me, right? That's all you can say, all I would understand?"
He went to say something else but Elena stood, the room shifting a bit with how much she'd had to drink. "No, Salvatore," she said his name maliciously. "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of all your there's so much you don't understands and your knowing better than me. Because you don't. You don't know better than me. And I'm tired of pretending you do. Last time I checked Damon, I was winning. So we're going to turn in this assignment, I'm going to win that clue, and there's not going to be anything else you can do about it."
She stomped off toward the door, turning around once more before she got there, still full of anger. "And one more thing."
"Yes?" he asked, calmly, leaned slightly forward, like she hadn't just yelled at him. Like he still cared about what she had to say. Almost like he hoped it would be a never mind or an I'm sorry. Instead, it was more salt in the wound.
"Stop pretending to be my friend. I hate it."
When the time came for the rivals to in in their project, Elena hung back, sitting low on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest, still grumbling wordlessly. Being in Damon Salvatore's company was full of peaks and valleys. Some days, she found herself liking him, even considering him a friend. Other days, she was only reminded of how utterly obnoxious he was, how arrogant and selfish he was. How holier than thou he acted in regards to her potential position in the society. Today, was of course, the latter.
As he turned in their assignment, the last assignment of the semester and year, she could only think about how much their relationship had changed since the first day of classes. And yet, how much remained exactly the same.
She sat in the same seat at the beginning of that year, his eyes like daggers in the back of her head, their banter in the coming days much like it was now. And yet, along the way, there continued to be secrets. And maybe it was hypocritical of her to criticize him for keeping secrets, but at least her secrets weren't harming anyone, even indirectly. Unless you consider all the damage it did to the male ego.
His secrets, whatever they were, involved actively barring her from Harmon's Great Minds, threatening his friends for inviting her over, and insulting her intelligence by assuming she couldn't handle certain information.
"Cheer up, Gilbert," Damon said as he passed her to take a seat in his normal chair. Their project sat firmly in the turned in pile on Dr. Bartlow's desk, atop the project the twins and Marcus had turned in weeks ago. And yes, they'd gloated. For hours.
"Bite me, Salvatore," she barked in response then offered a feigned smile. He returned it with a look of mock offense. But he had to know how much she truly detested him, right? Had to know that his constant skirting of her questions drove her absolutely mad, right? He couldn't possibly be that obtuse. Or else he wouldn't be such a worthy competitor.
Maybe she should have let it go by now, moved on, and let them establish some kind of a true friendship, but the whole reason she'd decided to attend Harmon College in the first place was because she was sick of her father withholding information. And to arrive and have some jerk do the same exact thing? No, she couldn't stomach it, even months later. The mere idea of letting it go, letting him just get away with withholding knowledge, knowledge which was almost definitely interesting, made her sick.
But it was fine. She was confident in her grades outside of their joint project and confident in her maintained lead. She would be the one to receive the clue for Harmon's Great Minds. Not him. And then she would be the one to gloat. Right in his face, like a lady.
The rest of the lecture went by at a snail's pace. But finally, when there were only a few minutes left in class, Dr. Bartlow put his hands together and turned his attention toward Damon and Elena. Marcus and the twins were basically out of the running, anyway. Everyone knew it was a fierce race to the top between their two hotheaded peers.
"This may be our last official lecture together, but I'd like to meet at the same time next week in order to announce the winner of our little competition." His eyes moved from Damon's to Elena's, acknowledging them both equally. "I know this competition has been, historically, Mr. Salvatore's without much contest, but Mr. Gilbert has truly given him a run for his money this year, and I do think the outcome will be quite exciting for you both. No matter the winner."
A small smile flitted across Elena's lips.
"You are dismissed. Thank you, as always, for a great year of study. I look forward to seeing you all next week and next year, as well," Dr. Bartlow said with a nod, then turned on his heel and walked back to his desk.
Elena was just as prompt in her exit, stowing her books into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, and fast-walking out the door if only to avoid engaging in any further small talk with any of them.
But only moments later, they were seated next to each other once more. Damn their back to back classes and the seats they'd been assigned on day one.
"I'm offended, Gilbert. I thought we were becoming friends," he said, tilting his head to the side to look at her.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes but not giving him the satisfaction of her full attention. "Friends tell each other the truth. They don't withhold important information. They aren't condescending jerks."
"The truth," he said, with a scoff of his own. "And you've been entirely truthful?"
She sat up a little taller at those words, a little straighter.
"I've no reason to lie," she said finally.
"Tell you what, Gilbert. I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said coyly.
"And I meant what I said earlier, Salvatore. Bite me."
He only chuckled, getting under her skin even more. He'd basically made a home there. "I'm sorry to crush your hopes of joining Harmon's Great Minds. But I can't say I didn't warn you." These exact seats, only months ago.
She smiled, recalling her own words from that first day. "Well, I do hope you like being surprised."
"Ah," he said, smirking—she didn't look at him, but could hear it in the way he spoke. "May the best man win."
She will, Elena thought, letting an equally arrogant smile fall upon her own lips, just before the teacher started the last lecture of the year, the last lecture she'd have to share with him.
Over the next week, Elena isolated herself from the group of people that had come to be her friends, at least kind of. Compatriots, at least. Mostly because holding back from arguing with Damon was an impossibility, and she didn't want to put herself through the emotional turmoil. But, as it turned out, waiting for the week to pass without anyone to engage with was quite boring. She considered taking a carriage to the country house in hopes of catching Caroline alone but decided against it at the last minute. They'd have time to see each other over the summer, after all.
Instead, she spent most of her time packing her things back into the one trunk she'd arrived with. It was bittersweet, the year ending. And with the final meeting of her Ancient Greek class, it would actually be over. The dorms closed the next day, and she had to be packed, cleaned, and completely moved out by noon.
Thankfully, her inheritance had secured her an off-campus apartment for the summer months, so she wouldn't have to stay at the country house. And hopefully, her time would be mostly consumed with Harmon's Great Minds. She'd take that clue and find their meeting spot immediately. And she (as Jeremy Gilbert, of course), would get to learn what they kept such a secret, what they even discussed behind those locked doors. Her. Not Salvatore. That would feel good. It would certainly make up for all the arguments and all the knowledge he kept from her under the belief that her small brain couldn't possibly comprehend it.
After putting away the last of her things, she straightened up her appearance in the mirror, tucking the loose strands of hair up inside the newsboy cap she'd worn every day for the last year. Delicate hands ran over her button up shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles, looking at herself in the mirror with a satisfied sigh. This was it. The start of the next chapter, of learning what had been kept behind doors bolted shut for ages. It was everything she'd ever wanted, and it was just a few moments out of reach.
Walking into the Ancient Greek classroom for the last time, she felt alive. Her heart raced, like it could skip a beat entirely, excited. This was the moment, her moment. She took a seat in the couch that had come to be hers as well, crossing one leg over the other.
Each second seemed to last an eternity, like the moment she'd been waiting for would never actually come. But then Dr. Bartlow walked into the room, placed his bag on the seat near his desk, and turned around to face them. One clap of his hands together, and he had their attention.
"Shall we get straight to the point?" he asked, looking over at them, stopping to meet each individual's eyes. They nodded, and he continued, turning around slightly to unpin the envelope from the corkboard behind him. It'd been there all year, and it never once occurred to Elena to just take it. But she could have, should have, maybe.
He flipped the envelope around between his fingers and walked slowly over to the group. For once, he had everyone's rapt attention. Perhaps the twins and Marcus were eager to see someone finally best their arrogant friend.
"You two have truly made this an interesting competition," he said, then shot a mocking glare at the twins. "For once." Then, he turned back toward the two of them. "Harmon's Great Minds would be lucky to have either of you, and it's a shame that I cannot extend the invitation to you both. But this year, I'm happy and proud to announce that Mr. Salvatore will be joining their ranks. That is, if he can solve the clues, and figure out their masterful puzzles."
Dr. Bartlow kept talking, but she didn't listen. Sound droned on in the background, buzzing.
Her face fell. She'd lost? After everything she'd been through, it didn't seem possible for those words to have fallen from Dr. Bartlow's lips. After all his compliments and all her high grades, how had she still lost? She could feel Damon's eyes boring into the back of her head even as he tucked the envelope containing the first clue into his pocket. To be read later, she assumed. Where her eyes couldn't find it.
The corners of her eyes stung with tears, but she absolutely refused to cry in front of any of these people. They were her friends, sure, but they also weren't. They didn't care about her the way friends were supposed to care for one another. They wouldn't put an arm around her shoulders and console her. In fact, she was shocked Damon hadn't just laughed directly in her face. But nothing he could have done would hurt as much as this, anyways. As much as losing.
But she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, refused to make him feel any pity toward her. So, when Dr. Bartlow finally dismissed them for the semester with kind words she hardly listened to, she stood up and walked over to her rival. One who had bested her, despite all her effort. Despite blood and sweat and long nights of translation, despite gritting her teeth to deal with him.
"Congratulations," she said, offering a smile that could not have come across any other way. I hate you, it said. Rot in hell. "Turns out you were the better man. You very much deserved the win, Salvatore." You dirty, lying, cheating, threatening, jerk of a man. Still, a smile. She extended a hand for a firm shake.
He stared at her for a moment, mouth slightly open, searching her eyes for something. Sincerity, perhaps? He wouldn't find it. When he didn't move to shake her hand, she dropped hers and walked out of the room.
The walk back to The Mac was melancholy. The stone path didn't capture her attention, fewer flowers poking through the cracks. The sky seemed cloudy, no rays of sun shining down. Nothing to enjoy about Harmon College, like all the magic had left when Dr. Bartlow read Damon Savlatore's name. And she was just a girl again, with a goal out of reach and a man in her way.
Once she got back to her dorm room, now smaller, less charming, and downright uncomfortable, she allowed herself one moment to weep for the future she thought was just within reach, before she wiped the tears from her face, gritted her teeth, and let the cogs start turning. Damon Salvatore may have won this battle, but she'd win the war.
END OF ACT I
A/N: Ahh! Thank you so much for checking out In Pursuit of Prestige and reading this far. I'm so so so so excited about where this story is going, and I can't wait to start uploading Act II. It might be a little while (about a month or so) before that happens, just because I want to make sure everything's perfect for this new portion of the story!