Elena Gilbert could be described in many ways. While her father liked to boast about her accomplishments and refer to her as his "beautiful and intelligent daughter" when discussing accolades with his work comrades, other such parties, namely one Jeremy Gilbert, often found that names like "overbearing, irritating, and annoying" were a much better fit.

These descriptions she found most endearing and only moderately patronizing. For a woman to be called intelligent in the 1900s was truly something special. For she had only been educated under her father's roof and never in any official capacity. If anything, she was a party trick. A delight that her father brought out and dusted off for parties. "Look at my smart, beautiful daughter, look at how I taught her to recite Homer in ancient Greek and go ahead, ask her to solve a math problem!" He was so proud of his ability to teach. So, she was kept like a trophy, stored away and taught by tutors, taken off her shelf when the time was right.

Learning, for Elena Gilbert, was never about her. And of course, the teachings had not been fair. Elena was not to read that book, or learn about history, or speak with other women—for of course they wouldn't understand her far superior intelligence, and Elena didn't want to make them feel bad about themselves, did she?

It wasn't a bad life, exactly. She had access to troves of books that she otherwise wouldn't know how to read, and while her father wasn't a delight to be around, Jeremy was always there to bring life into the house. She was merely a possession in her father's eyes, but Jeremy as a friend, not just a sister.

And while of course, the two annoyed the ever-living daylights out of one another, they had a friendship that was forged in mutual disdain for their father. For Elena, he treasured and kept locked away, and Jeremy he pretended didn't exist.

Their plan didn't come together all at once. Elena was intelligent, a scholar on the level of many men her age. But the ceiling above her encroached. Her father would never allow her to learn outside of his bounds, would never allow her to have a job. In fact, he would likely marry her to some business associate who wouldn't let her near a book ever again. A life without books? What was that, to Elena Gilbert? It sounded like a certain kind of hell.

Jeremy was equally restless to escape. While they had each other, it wasn't enough. They both longed for more. One night in late July, when the air was hot and humid, and the sun hadn't quite gone down, Elena was lounging in the garden with a book in her hand, as she was often found.

"Well, what is it?" She perked up immediately upon hearing the gate open. "Tell me it's good news, it must be good news."

Jeremy was tall and slightly gangly, with shaggy brown hair and kind brown eyes. He feigned a look of sadness. His lips pressed into a tight line, his hands clasped in front of him. It was almost convincing.

"Oh stop it, Jeremy Gilbert, do not mess with me. This is serious."

He pushed her legs out of the way and sat down on the edge of the lounger. "Right yes, very serious indeed."

"Oh shut it, would you? Just tell me what happened."

He wiped the sullen look from his face and pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket, which he presented to Elena.

She unfolded it and quickly read aloud, "Dear Mr. Jeremy Gilbert, we thank you for your interest in Harmon College. It was a delight to speak with you about your recent accomplishments, and your essay about the influences of Homeric epics on today's fiction was in-depth, fresh, and exciting. We're happy to offer you a spot in our upcoming class, starting on September 7th, 1901."

Her eyes widened while she read, and Jeremy got increasingly more excited next to her. "They liked my essay," Elena said, looking at her brother with a look of wonder the likes of which he'd never seen.

"Jeremy Gilbert's essay."

"Right."

Of course, one Elena Gilbert could never have gotten into such a prestigious college on her own. While there were programs that accepted women, they were few and far between. And from what she'd heard—which wasn't much—the women's programs were not regarded in the same light as the men's programs.

"You're sure you want to go through with this?" Jeremy asked. "We don't know what could happen if you're found out."

"I won't be found out."

"Elena."

"I won't."

"What are we going to tell Father?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. That was the true dilemma. Getting into the college had been easy, nearly guaranteed (though Elena would never boast about herself in such a manner). Figuring out how to actually get there without raising questions from their Father? Well, they hadn't really thought about that plan too much.

In the end, it didn't matter. Their dear father suffered a fatal heart attack on a summer night in August, just when Elena was certain the plan would crumble, and though they grieved for him in public and private, they didn't dare share their feelings of relief out loud. Elena was free. Not only from the torturous experience of being her father's show pony but free to enroll in an actual, real college.

"You've never mentioned your plans. Not really," Elena commented one night while she packed her belongings (and many of Jeremy's) into a large trunk. "Where are you going to go? Surely you won't stay here."

"Well, as a man with no name, I think I could anywhere I please."

"Just stay out of trouble, would you?" Elena looked at him with a motherly gaze. She was his older sister after all.

"I should say the same to you!" He looked at her in that way of his that said all the words he couldn't. "I hope it's everything you've dreamed of, Elena."

"Me too."

The next morning, Jeremy helped her load the trunk into the carriage that would take her to the train station. They said brief goodbyes, and while Elena had felt her eyes getting misty, she refrained from crying for Jeremy's sake alone. He never knew how to handle her tears. Most men did not.

Elena, in clothes that looked slightly too large for her lithe frame, waved goodbye to her dear brother as the carriage pulled away, leaving "Elena" behind and taking his name with her. Assuming her brother's name and identity was odd, but it was a tool like anything else, and she would use it to her advantage.

The ride took hours, and though she was delirious with sleep, she couldn't manage to keep her eyes closed for more than a few minutes at a time. There were simply too many things to see. Their father had been something of a hermit, and Elena even more so because of it.

This, while first and foremost a step in becoming her own person, a real person—one who didn't exist for anyone else—it was also her first true foray into society as a whole. She'd attended many a party of course, and sometimes even ones outside her own home. But she was always kept on a tight leash and never allowed to stray far. She'd barely even spoken to people of her own age.

The carriage pulled to a stop aside the bustling train station, busy even though it was quite early in the morning. With her tickets already in hand, she was quickly situated in her train car. Again, she watched the countryside pass by her window until she fell asleep with her chin atop her hand.

The train came to a screeching halt six hours later in front of Harmon City Station. This station was far busier and much larger than where she'd boarded. She'd never seen so many people in one place (a thought she would have many times that day).

In the next hour, she'd take a short carriage ride to Harmon College, weave through the mass of new and returning students with her large, too-heavy truck, all the while worrying about whether or not she looked enough the part amongst the sea of men, to finally check in to her dorm with no issues and collapse in a heap on the bed, alone.

Everything came to a stop around her as she sat alone in a small room hundreds of miles from the only place she'd ever known. What have I done?