The following day, as I walked through the bustling halls of the school, my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, each pulling me deeper into a world where everything around me faded into the background. I didn't see Elena anywhere; truthfully, I wasn't even searching for her amidst the swirl of students. It wasn't until lunchtime, while I animatedly shared my latest photos with Jeremy, that the weight of her absence crashed down on me.
Just then, I felt a presence beside me. I turned slightly to find Stefan Salvatore approaching, his expression calm and composed, but there was an intensity in his gaze.
"Hi, Bella. Jeremy," he greeted, his voice smooth, but it cut through my thoughts like a knife.
"Hi." My reply came out strangled, a barely audible whisper.
The sound of his voice sent my heart racing, and I felt a flutter of panic settle in my chest, making each breath a challenge.
"I don't know where Elena is," Jeremy's voice broke the spell, his tone casual, though the concern lingered beneath the surface.
The mention of Elena snapped me back to reality. "Huh?" I turned fully to face Jeremy, confusion knitting my brows. "What did you say?"
"She didn't come home last night. The favoritism Jenna shows her is unbelievable. Just the other night, I walked in late and got an earful from Aunt Jenna for it," he said, shaking his head in frustration.
"Actually," Stefan interjected, his tone surprisingly casual amidst the tension, "I was wondering if I could speak to Bella for a moment."
Jeremy and I exchanged puzzled looks, the surprise evident on our faces. "Bella, who?" I blurted out, incredulity creeping into my voice.
"Bella Swan," Stefan clarified, his gaze shifting to Jeremy, who nearly choked on his juice, eyes wide in shock.
I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. "Me? You want to talk to me?!" I exclaimed, barely able to wrap my head around the idea.
"Yes," he confirmed, his expression serious but inviting.
"What about?" Jeremy pressed, curiosity glinting in his eyes.
"Ah, it's kind of private," Stefan replied, glancing around as if considering the watching crowd.
I stole a glance at Jeremy, who was lost in admiration of the photos in his hands, unaware of the undercurrents of the conversation. "I'll be right back," I assured him.
"Okay," Jeremy replied, his attention still on the pictures. "I'll give these back to you before I leave."
We strolled down the dimly lit hallway, I could feel Bella trailing two paces behind me, her presence a mix of nervous energy and anxiety.
She had opted for a casual look today—a soft brown Henley shirt that hugged her figure just right faded jeans that allowed for easy movement, and her beloved blue Converse shoes, worn but still vibrant. She looked like she was trying to blend in with the sea of other students, yet the unmistakable scent surrounding her set her apart.
Her blood was a tantalizing obsession, one I struggled to resist, and I could sense the frantic rhythm of her heart echoing in my ears.
I found my gaze drawn to her more than I intended, captivated by how she gripped her book tightly, her knuckles pale against the cover as if it were a shield against an encroaching danger. Her face was a canvas of pure terror; her wide, darting eyes seemed to search for an escape like a frightened lamb that had unknowingly stumbled into a den of lurking, famished lions.
"What's this all about?" she asked suddenly, her voice quivering as she halted.
I noticed the way her pulse quickened even more, the sound of blood rushing beneath her skin almost deafening in the stillness.
"Elena told me you collapsed yesterday," I replied, attempting to gauge her reaction.
A flush crept over her cheeks, transforming her expression as she pouted her full lips in irritation. "Really? She told you that?"
I nodded, a hint of amusement dancing in my eyes. "Yep, she said it happened right after Damon and I left."
With a sigh, Bella complained about Elena's loose lips before focusing on me. "What else has she said about me?"
"Nothing much," I answered, knowing there was more to the story.
"Somehow, I doubt that," she replied, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
"Did Damon upset you?" I questioned, curious.
She scoffed at the idea. "Does he upset you?"
I shrugged, an involuntary smile creeping onto my face as I considered her question.
"I guess."
"I can survive Damon," she stated with a firmness that
intrigued me.
I couldn't help but think, I'll bet you can.
The allure of her large, dark eyes was captivating, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. As she parted her full, inviting lips, it seemed as though she was about to share something profound, but instead, she bit down on them, a slight frown crossing her face as she averted her gaze, finally setting me free from her magnetic hold.
With a flick of her wrist, she began tossing her luxurious mahogany tresses, the cascading waves catching the light and framing her face. I noted that she often did this when she felt vulnerable or under scrutiny. Her long, flowing hair served as a kind of shield, offering her solace from the watchful eyes of others. Yet, as it danced in the air, it carried her unique scent, a fragrant invitation that called out to every vampire within a considerable distance.
"Elena is angry with me," I confessed, the weight of my words hanging heavily in the air.
"Why?" she replied, her curiosity piqued, with a mix of concern and intrigue woven into her tone.
"It's not—" I started, searching for the right words.
"Then why tell me?" she interrupted, her intensity unwavering as she locked her gaze onto mine again.
I felt a shiver of unease as I caught her stare, but I had the sense to look away, offering nothing more than a quiet resignation.
"She's with Damon," I finally admitted, the truth bitter on my tongue.
I cast a sidelong glance at Bella. Panic fluttered across her features, her wide eyes betraying a mix of fear and confusion. For a fleeting moment, I pondered Elena's worries about her.
Did my compulsion on Isabella actually work?
Had she honestly forgotten everything?
"What are you saying?" Bella's voice trembled, barely above a whisper, as if the idea of Elena being in danger was too much to bear.
"Elena is missing." The words fell from my lips, heavy and unnatural.
"Has she been kidnapped?!"
"No," I replied, the lie tasting bitter.
"Are you going to go after her?"
"I don't even know where she is."
"Why didn't Jeremy mention it earlier? Did you tell her aunt? I'm calling Caroline—"
"Elena is angry with me," I repeated as i grasped Bella's wrist firmly, and our bodies jolted at the sudden contact. Our eyes locked, an exchange filled with urgency. "Chances are she and Bonnie will keep their lips sealed until Elena decides it's time to speak."
"But she chose to confide in Damon?"
Her trepidation was palpable, reflected in the way her brow furrowed, and her gaze flickered as if searching for answers that weren't there.
"She won't respond to my calls, but maybe she would answer yours."
With a heavy sigh, her shoulders sank, and she averted her gaze, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. "That's what you wanted to talk about."
"Yes. You could say—"
"Give me her number," she said, exhaling in resignation. "I'll call her after school."
"Could you please try it now?"
"Is Elena in danger?" There was a tremor in her voice, a hint of desperation.
"No."
She turned back to me, her eyes narrowed in skepticism. "Then what's the hurry?"
"I don't trust Damon."
We held each other's gaze for an eternity before she glanced down at my hands, a frown tugging at her lips.
"What's wrong?"
"I'll need my hands, Stefan."
I released her wrist, and she rubbed it gently, her skin soft and warm against my fingers.
It was a brief moment of tenderness amidst the chaos, but the urgency of our situation loomed more significant than ever.
I picked up my phone, dialed Elena's number, and quickly handed it to Bella. The phone rang briefly, and my heart raced when it quickly switched to voicemail.
"She's not answering," Bella sighed, frustration creeping into her voice. "I'll try again later."
"Just a moment," I said, instinctively wrapping my arms around her waist. The sudden movement caught her off guard, and she jolted, stumbling a bit. "Sorry about that."
I steadied her as she regained her balance but felt her tense beneath my touch.
"It's alright. What do you need?"
"How has your neck been?" I inquired gently, noticing the way she rubbed it absentmindedly.
The faint bruises left by Damon's attack were still visible, a vivid reminder of the night's chaos.
"It's fine," she replied dismissively, but I could sense the lingering discomfort. "How's your brother? Has he been... biting any more underage girls?"
"What?!" I exclaimed, taken aback.
"Caroline told me he bit her!" Bella stuttered, her wide eyes reflecting shock and concern. "Maybe he's biting Elena." Worry flashed across her face as she spoke. "I'm calling her again."
With determination, Bella pressed redial on Elena's cell, and after a moment, the phone rang once before a faint voice came through.
"Hello?"
"Elena? Elena Gilbert?" Bella's voice was firm, but I could hear the tremor of anxiety beneath it.
"Yes, who's this?" Elena replied, irritation evident in her tone.
"Let me talk," I mouthed to Bella, hoping to diffuse the tension.
She placed her finger to her lips, signaling for quiet.
"Who is this?" Elena's impatience was growing.
"Where the heck do you get off telling Stefan Salvatore that I collapsed?!" Bella demanded.
"Bella?"
"I don't appreciate you talking about me behind my back."
"How did you get my number?"
"My Gran,"
"Who gave it to her?!" Elena pressed, her voice rising.
"Someone worried because you didn't come home last night,"
"Not that it's any of YOUR business, but I'm with someone—"
"Tch." Bella scoffed, barely able to contain her disbelief. "I know what that means."
"You don't know—"
"I know your family's worried about you, and you're shacked up with some guy! The least you could do is let everyone know you're okay."
"Elena's fine, little swan," came Damon's voice, smooth and mocking from somewhere in the background.
I could see Bella's skin crawl at the sound of his voice; she glanced at me, concern etched on her features. "You're with Damon?"
"Is that an issue?" he challenged, his tone dripping with bravado.
"How long have you and Caroline been broken up?" Bella shot back, her brow furrowing with suspicion.
"It's not like that!" Elena insisted, desperation creeping into her voice.
"So, Damon abducted you?! I'll call the sheriff—"
"I'm with Damon because I want to be," Elena declared, her
voice firm but laced with defiance.
The words stung more than I expected. It must have shown on my face because Bella's eyes flickered with concern. "Are you okay?" she mouthed silently.
I responded with a quick nod, reassuring her, but the unease settled deeper inside me.
"Are you sure?" she mouthed again, her expression softening.
I maintained my nod, and she directed her attention back to Elena. "So, it's exactly like that!"
"Tch. What do you want, Bella?!" Elena's impatience was palpable now.
Bella held her phone out, but I shook my head reluctantly. "You should call home and tell your aunt you're alright."
Elena hung up abruptly. Bella turned to me, sympathy evident in her eyes. "Well, at least you know she's safe."
But the reassurance felt hollow. Damon could have coerced her into saying that—or perhaps she was saying it to sidestep Bella's concerns.
"Yeah, I guess I do," I replied softly, pondering the implications.
I turned to leave but felt an inexplicable urge to meet Isabella's gaze once more.
"What?" she asked, catching my look.
"Does it bother you that Elena told me you collapsed?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced at the sunlight filtering through the trees, illuminating her hair with a fiery hue.
"I don't appreciate other people telling my business," she said, her tone defensive.
"Your hair," I replied, drawing my finger along a strand of her hair that shone in the light.
"What about my hair?" she asked, a hint of confusion.
"It turns red in the sun," I pointed out, mesmerized by the way it glimmered.
I tentatively ran my fingers through her hair; it felt soft and silky against my skin.
She gasped, taken aback by the unexpected intimacy, stepping back as I pulled my hand away with embarrassment. I crossed my arms, away from the moment we had just shared.
I cleared my throat to regain my composure. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be so forward."
"I'm not a rebound!" she asserted, fire returning to her voice. "And I don't go for guys with a girlfriend."
Her irritation made me grin, and I raised my hands in surrender. "Yes, ma'am."
"I have to get back to Jeremy," she said, her tone shifting as she gathered herself.
"How's your project going?" I asked, genuinely interested.
"My what?" she replied, momentarily lost.
"Caroline once mentioned you were doing a family project for your grandmother," I reminded her, hoping to reignite the conversation.
"Oh, yeah, it's going fine," she said, a hint of enthusiasm returning.
"What did you find out?" I prompted, eager to hear more.
"My uncle was friends with Mr. Tanner," she replied, her gaze shifting as if pondering the connection.
That would explain why Mr. Tanner seemed to have a softer spot for her than most.
"Anything else?" I pressed, wanting to know more.
"My uncle was a war hero," she revealed.
I sensed she held back deeper emotions, but I chose not to pry further.
"If you need an extra set of eyes, I'd be happy to help," I offered, hoping to solidify our connection.
She opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, then turned on her heel to leave. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back to me. "Give me your number; I might take you up."
"We could meet at the Grill after school," I suggested.
"Uh, s-so soon?" she stammered, glancing away shyly.
"Yes..."
"Why?" she asked, genuine curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"I'm curious about you," I confessed, my heart racing slightly at my own boldness.
Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and she bit her lip, wavering for a moment before nodding.
"Alright," she finally replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"What did Stefan want?" Jeremy asked, curiosity etched across his face.
It was the end of a long school day, and the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow through the window. He had offered to wait with me until Gran arrived, but I suspected he was using that as an excuse to steer the conversation toward the photos.
"Your sister is mad at him," I replied, my voice steady. "And he thought I might be able to help."
Jeremy shook his head, a slight frown creasing his brow. "He knows my sister doesn't like you, right?"
The comment stung more than I cared to admit, but I brushed off my discomfort. "It doesn't matter anyway. Elena is where she is because she wants to be. Her words."
"Trouble in paradise already?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.
And then some.
"Yeah. Stefan wants to meet me at the grill," I continued.
Jeremy spun around to face me, anger and concern flashing in his eyes. "Wow, that was fast. One fight, and he's already hopping to the next best thing."
"I'm not that kind of girl," I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended.
"You don't strike me as that kind, either," he reassured me with a small laugh, attempting to diffuse the tension. "It's just—"
"Stefan wants to see my photos."
"Okay," he scoffed.
"I think he just wants to keep his mind off your sister," I added, trying to explain his behavior.
"Yeah," Jeremy scoffed again, "he does."
"It's not—" I motioned him to lean in closer, and he obliged, his expression shifting to one of intrigue. "Elena is with Damon."
"Stefan's brother?!"
"Yeah," I replied, nodding slowly.
"Didn't he bite Caroline?"
"Yep," I confirmed, recalling the incident vividly.
"Wait, how long have he and Caroline been broken up?"
"My sentiments exactly. Now tell me about the photos."
Jeremy pulled a worn-out picture of Beau and JG from his backpack.
"That's my uncle John," he said, pride gleaming as he pointed to the tall, lanky teen standing next to Beau.
John had short, light brown hair and piercing blue eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief.
Despite their arms around each other, there was a palpable tension between Beau and John, as if they were concealing a secret. Their posture spoke volumes—rigid and guarded—each seeming to fight an invisible battle. In the photographs with Mr. Tanner, Beau's eyes glimmered with pure joy and happiness, almost radiant in contrast to the ones with IF, where he appeared completely relaxed.
However, in the image with John Gilbert, there was an unmistakable nervousness about him, as though he were afraid of something lurking beneath the surface.
The fear in his gaze was almost tangible, leaving me to wonder what complexities lay in the relationship between the two.
"Our uncles knew each other in high school, Bella," Jeremy exclaimed, "How crazy is that?"
"Yeah," I blurted out. "It's like we were fated to be in each other's lives."
Jeremy's cheeks flushed a deep pink, and he stepped back, the weight of my words sinking in. It clicked a moment later, and my eyes widened.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed, jumping back and nearly tripping over my own feet. "I didn't mean— I know that you like Vicky!"
"I love Vicky," he whispered earnestly, his voice heavy with emotion.
The air grew thick with unspoken feelings as Jeremy turned away, a longing expression crossing his face. I wished I knew how to comfort him, to ease the weight of uncertainty hanging between us.
"Has she called you?" I asked, trying to shift the focus.
"No," he replied quietly, the disappointment evident in his tone.
"Hey—"
"Your grandmother is here," he interrupted.
"Jeremy—"
Just then, the sound of the truck's horn blared in the quiet afternoon, making me jump.
"Bella," he called softly, holding up the cherished picture of Beau and John. "Can I keep this one? I want to show my Aunt Jenna."
"Alright," I replied, pleased to see his excitement return.
I arrived at Bella's charming home just as the clock struck 7, and her grandmother looked up in surprise at my unexpected presence.
I had thought Bella would have informed her about my visit.
"Is Bella home?" I inquired, trying to sound casual despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach.
"Bella!" her grandmother called out, her voice echoing slightly in the cozy hallway. "Stefan Salvatore is here." She gestured invitingly toward the open door. "Would you like to wait inside?"
Moments later, Bella made her entrance, gracefully descending the staircase.
She wore a beautifully embroidered floral peasant blouse that contrasted elegantly with a soft green top beneath it and fitted blue jeans that hugged her figure just right. A black headband held back her hair, and she completed her look with a pair of stylish sneakers.
At that moment, she truly radiated beauty; no matter what she wore, she always seemed to shine, but the shade of blue she had on today really brought out the sparkle in her eyes.
"Gran," Bella called out cheerfully when she reached the bottom of the staircase, "there's no need to invite him in; I'm ready."
"Bella, you look great," I said, my voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Thank you," she replied with a soft smile that made my heart race.
Bella's grandmother shifted her gaze between us, her eyes revealing a hint of confusion mingled with curiosity.
"Have her back by 9," she instructed, her tone both cautious and protective as she stood at the threshold of transition from home to the world beyond.
"Can I start you off with drinks?" the blonde waitress asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she approached our table, her hair glinting under the warm restaurant lights.
"Bella," Stefan said, his gaze steady and intense as it fixated on me. "What would you like to drink?"
"I'll have tea," I replied, feeling warmth creep up my cheeks under his scrutiny.
"And what about you?" The waitress's dazzling smile targeted Stefan now, bright and inviting. "What can I get you?"
"Water," he said, breaking eye contact with me for the first time.
"I'll be right back," the waitress chirped before darting into the bustling crowd.
The noise of laughter and clinking dishes surrounded us, but the air between Stefan and me was thick with unspoken words. I noticed his fingers drumming lightly on the table, a rhythmic counterpoint to the lively chatter that filled the grill.
"So..." he finally ventured, searching for a thread in the silence.
"So?" I replied, raising an eyebrow in a playful challenge.
"So, how is your project going?" he asked, his voice low and casual as if discussing the weather.
"Project?" I feigned confusion, unsure of where this was leading.
"Your family project," he clarified, leaning in slightly, his interest palpable.
"Fine. It's going fine," I answered, sounding more confident than I felt.
"So—" he started again, but I interrupted.
"Where is Elena Gilbert?" My voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.
"Here we are," the waitress chirped as she returned, placing our drinks before us. She turned back to Stefan, her posture eager. "Are we ready to order?"
"Bella?" he prompted.
"French fries," I said, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.
"I'll have the same," Stefan added, glancing at me with a slight smirk.
The waitress whisked away again, and as the minutes stretched, I stirred my tea with the straw, feeling the icy gaze of Stefan lingering on my face. The tension was palpable, thick as honey.
"Where is Elena?" I asked, pressing again, unwilling to let the question linger.
"You seem pretty concerned about a girl you don't even like," he pointed out, his lips twisting into a bemused smile.
"It's called empathy," I shot back, frustration bubbling under my calm exterior.
"Elena is with Damon," he replied, his tone slipping into something somber.
"Where's Damon?" My curiosity was piqued now, a thread I wanted to unravel.
"I don't know," he admitted, his expression tight.
"Why is Elena angry at you?" I asked, sensing a more profound story beneath his words.
"I kept a secret from her," he confessed, a shadow crossing his features.
"A secret? What kind of secret?" My interest was fully captured now.
"It's personal," he said, a hint of defensiveness edging his voice.
It couldn't be the vampire thing; Elena already knew that. Maybe she'd discovered Damon had killed Tanner or was tried to kill me. No, she must have put the pieces together when she saw me on Halloween and perhaps she didn't care enough about Tanner to matter.
Maybe it was about Vicky; Elena might have discovered they turned her. But why would they allow Vicky to endanger others and her brother?
My thoughts spiraled into anxiety.
Oh, God, what if Vicky was dead, no undead but dead, dead?!
Elena was upset because they killed Vicky, and now maybe Damon was putting her in danger, too.
"What are you thinking about?" Stefan's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Why do you ask?" I shot back, defensive and wary.
"Because I don't like how tightly you're gripping your butter knife," he countered, a flicker of concern dancing in his eyes.
"Jeremy," I breathed, the realization hitting me hard. "He's in love with Vicky."
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice laden with genuine sympathy.
"Sorry?" I echoed, caught off guard.
"Yeah," he said softly, making my heart twist.
"Why are you sorry?" I pressed, still bewildered.
"Because you like him, don't you?" he ventured carefully.
"Only as a friend," I replied, my tone firm.
"Oh, I just thought, with Vicky gone—" he hesitated, searching my face for clues.
"She'll turn up again. She only went to visit her mother," I insisted, trying to convince myself.
I captured his gaze again, searching for signs of emotional turmoil on his face, but he looked away.
One of them killed Vicky. The bastards.
"Yeah, but Vicky is so much older than him," he remarked, not wanting to dwell on the darker thoughts threading through my mind.
"She's about the same age as you," i replied.
"What did you learn about your family?" Stefan asked, changing the subject abruptly.
"My uncle was friends with Mr. Tanner, and according to Jeremy, he also knew his uncle," I answered.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Really? Do you remember seeing them?"
"My uncle died like two years after I was born," I said, a hint of sadness flickering through me.
"Oh, but you lived here until you were four. Do you remember
anything?"
"No. I just remember going to the park and a nice lady named Miranda."
"Elena's mother," he offered.
"I don't know about all that," I quickly redirected, eager to keep the focus on myself. "This is more for me and my family."
"What else did you discover about your family?" he chuckled, a teasing note in his voice.
"From what I saw in the photo, our uncles don't seem to care for each other," I said, a smile creeping onto my face.
"Like uncles, like nieces," he mused, a smirk on his lips.
I scratched my head, feeling a sudden bout of nerves as Stefan turned his attention elsewhere. The scent of fresh strawberries wafted from my hair, and impulsively, I leaned closer, remembering my favorite shampoo.
"What's the matter?" I asked lightly.
"Allergies," he replied, his tone casual, but his eyes betrayed a hint of discomfort.
"Allergies to what?"
"Pollen. I think your hair's full of it," he said, trying to maintain a lighthearted demeanor.
"Hmmm," I teased playfully.
"You doubt me?" he asked, feigning injury.
"Did you speak to Elena?" I pressed again, feeling the weight of secrecy in the air.
He squirmed slightly, eventually turning to meet my gaze. "I did; she's still angry."
"Why did you keep it from her?" I demanded, feeling the tension rise.
"I'm not—"
"Why are you so curious about me?" I challenged.
"Why do you think—"
"That's what you told me when you asked to meet up. I believe your words were verbatim, 'I'm inquisitive about you.'"
His cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Yes, well, I'm usually good at reading people—"
"With one exception," I interjected.
He leveled a serious glance at me, his face set. "Right, with one exception."
"But I'm sure Elena will come around," I added, trying to ease the tension.
He paused, then managed a nervous smile. "You sure do like to bring up Elena."
"Isn't that why you agreed to meet up? To get your mind off Elena?" I pressed, meeting his gaze.
"Sort of, but I am curious about you, Isabella," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Why did he have to say my name like that?
"Well, since Big Mouth told you about me collapsing, I imagine she's told you about me being adopted," I said, wanting to keep the conversation on me.
"You're adopted too?" he asked, genuine surprise lighting up his face.
"What do you mean, 'adopted too'? Is Elena adopted?" I was taken aback, realization dawning.
The color drained from his face. Was that what he had been keeping from her?!
"You can't say anything!" Stefan nearly shouted, his voice a mix of urgency and panic.
"Stefan—" I started.
"Bella."
"What's going on here?" Matt called out as he approached, balancing a tray laden with food.
Stefan shot me a pleading look. In frustration, I nodded and threw my tea in his face, the liquid splashing dramatically across the table.
"What the hell?" Stefan yelled, bewildered and dripping, as Matt hurried over to us.
"You're a jerk!" I exclaimed, my indignation rising.
Matt looked between us, confusion written all over his face. "What's going on?!"
"Stefan Salvatore is a jerk," I declared, pointing an accusing finger.
Matt raised an eyebrow, still perplexed. "Care to share?"
"I'll let him fill in the blanks." I grabbed my belongings, wanting to escape the confusion and tension.
"Bella, at least let me see you home," Stefan pleaded, frustration bleeding into his voice.
"Ugh! Fine!" I relented, my heart racing as I stood up, torn between anger and an undeniable connection.
'Hey, where's your girl?' Bree asked as she placed a drink in front of me.
'Hmm.' I looked around the bar, then back at the attractive woman with medium-length, curly black hair and dark brown eyes. 'She was right back there.'
'Maybe she wised up and left you.'
Maybe, but I have the keys. She wouldn't risk endangering a stranger; she's too goody good.
I went outside, looked around, and found Elena's phone on the ground; I picked it up.
I went around the bar, over to an electrical building, and found Elena hanging on to a tank.
'Damon, no!'
Something attacked me with a wooden plank with supernatural speed.
It was a trap; I walked right into a trap.
A man hit me repeatedly as Elena jumped down from the tank and ran towards us.
'What the hell?!' I gasped as he poured gasoline on me.
'No!'
The man turns to look at Elena, revealing vampire teeth.
I didn't recall pissing off any other vampires lately.
'Who are you?'
'That's perfect!' he growled.
For the first time, I got a good look at the guy. He was good-looking; he had dark hair and eyes, facial hair, and dark clothes.
'You have no idea.'
'What are you talking about? What did he do?' cried Elena.
'He killed my girlfriend. What did she do to you, huh? What did she do to you?!'
'Nothing.' I choked.
'I don't understand.'
'My girlfriend went to visit Stefan, and Damon killed her. Got it?'
Lexi. I thought as I cried out in pain.
'Lexi?' breathed Elena. 'Lexi was your girlfriend? She- she told me about you. She said that you were human.'
'I was.'
'Lexi turned you?'
'If you want to be with someone forever, you must live forever.'
'She loved you. She said When it's real, you can't walk away."'
'Well, that's a choice you won't have to make.'
'Don't. Don't, please, don't hurt him...' Elena begged as he lit a match.
'I'm doing you a favor.'
'Lexi loved you! And she was good! And that means you're good too. Be better than him. Don't do this. I'm begging you! Please.'
He picked me up and threw me against the building but
stopped attacking after that. 'Thank you.'
'It wasn't for you.'
He left, and Elena rushed to my side.
'I should have let him after what you did to Vicky.'
Isabella glared at me silently for the longest time; finally, I growled, 'What?!'
'What do you mean adopted too?!'
'Elena is adopted.' I said, furious more so with myself than her.
'Is that why Elena is angry at you?'
'Yes.' I lied, throwing a glance her way. 'You can't say anything!'
'It's weird.'
'What is?'
'How similar lives are.'
'Yeah, it is pretty bizarre.'
'Wait, how did you discover Elena's adoption before she did?'
'Bella-'
'How did you know Stefan?'
'Bella.'
'Stefan-'
'How old are you?'
'What kind of question is that?!'
'How old are you?'
'I'm 17.'
'And how long have you been 17?'
Elena was right; I wasn't strong enough.
'You didn't forget, did you?'
'No, but I'm going to say anything.'
'And supposed to believe you?'
'You going to sick Damon on me?'
I looked over at her; she had a stern look.
'What do you want?'
'Vicky's dead, isn't she?'
'She would have killed Jeremy and Elena if I didn't-' I watched her shoulders quiver, and I heard a sob. 'Bella-'
She pulled away from me, outrage plastered on her face. 'Did you turn her?'
'No.'
'Were you the one who attacked her in the woods?'
'No. You can't let anyone know you remember. Damon will kill you.'
She sobbed into her hands for a bit, before wiping her eyes. 'Does Jeremy know, or did you compel him-'
'Elena asked Damon to.'
She wiped her eyes again. 'It's not right.'
'Bella, please.'
'How are you able to walk around in the sunlight?'
'Daylight rings.'
'Family heirloom.'
'What?'
'That guy, Zach, where is he?'
'Dead.'
'Damon?'
'Damon.'
'Tch.' She shook her head. 'I keep my mouth shut if yours shut.'
'What do you mean?'
'You don't tell Elena and Damon about me, and I don't tell Elena she's adopted.'
'I'm going to tell her when I see her again.'
'How would she feel if she knew I knew before she did?'
'If Damon tries to compel you, do whatever he tells you. This is very important; Damon will not hesitate to kill you.'
'Fine, but Damon will never get me in the position to compel me.'
'So, why did you bring me with you?
'Well,' I glanced her way, 'you're not the worst company in the world, Elena. It would help if you gave yourself more credit!'
She scowled. 'Seriously?'
I shrugged. 'You were there in the road, all damsel-in-distress-like, And I knew it would piss off Stefan. And...you're not the worst company in the world, Elena.'
She sighed and looked ahead. 'I used to be more fun.'
'You did okay.'
'I saved your life!'
I grinned. 'I know.'
She returned the grin. 'And don't you forget it!'
It was silent for a while, then Elena said quietly, 'I think you need to compel Bella Swan.'
The comment surprised me, and I glanced at her eyes, her on me.
'What?'
'I don't think Stefan was strong enough to compel Bella to forget.'
'It's his animal diet. Or maybe Bella on vervain; if that's the case, it'd be easier for me to kill her.'
'Like the last time?'
'I technically did kill her, but I'm open to trying again.'
'No!' Cried Elena. 'I didn't tell you that so you can kill her-'
'Then you should have just kept your mouth shut. If Bella blabs, they kill Stefan.'
'You can't kill her.'
'Who's going to stop me? The council? Stefan? You and the witch?'
'Damon, she's just a kid.'
'A kid that's a threat.'
I could feel the tension in the room as Elena walked in. She took a deep breath and spoke first. "Hi," she whispered.
I replied with a hesitant "Hi" of my own.
She looked at me, her eyes filled with hurt and anger. "You
could have told me," she cried.
"I wanted to tell you," I replied, hoping to calm her down.
"You said no more lies," she continued. "Only the truth. I can handle the truth, Stefan. As crazy as it is, I can handle the fact that you are a vampire. And that you have a vampire brother. And that my best friend is a witch. I can accept that the world is much more mysterious than I ever thought possible. But this...this lie, I cannot take. What am I to you? Who am I to you?"
I assured her, "You are not Katherine. You are the opposite of everything that she was."
"And when did you figure that out? Before you kissed me? Before we slept together?!" she demanded, her voice rising.
"Before I met you," I replied, causing her to look at me in confusion. "The first day of school. When we met, it wasn't for the first time, Elena," I revealed.
"Then when was it?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.
"May 23, 2009," I replied, knowing I was about to reveal something that could change everything.
"But that was…" she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
"That was the day your parents' car went off the bridge," I finished for her. Elena pulled away from me, tears streaming down her face.
"You were there?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every few years, I return to see Zach and my home. Last spring, I was out in the woods by old Wickery Bridge. And I heard the accident—all of it. I was fast getting there, but not fast enough. The car was already submerged. Your dad was still...he was still conscious. I could get to him, but he wouldn't let me help him until I helped you," I explained.
Elena burst into tears. "Oh my god. When I woke up in the hospital, nobody could figure out how I got out of the car. They said it was a miracle."
"I went back for them. But it was too late. I couldn't-- I couldn't save them. When I pulled you out, I looked at your face. You looked like Katherine. I couldn't believe the resemblance. After that, I spent months making sure that you weren't her. I watched you. I learned everything that I could about you. And I saw that you were nothing like Katherine. And I wanted to leave town, but, Elena, I couldn't. I couldn't leave without knowing you. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you. I wanted to. But you were so sad."
"Why do I look like her?" Elena asked, her voice shaking.
I hesitated momentarily, wondering if I should tell her the truth.
"Elena, you've been through so much," I said softly.
"Why do I look like her, Stefan?! What are you not telling me?!" she demanded, her patience thinning.
"It didn't make any sense to me. You were a Gilbert. She was a Pierce. But the resemblance was too similar. And then I learned the truth. You were adopted, Elena," I revealed, bracing myself for her reaction.