Elena and I met up with Bonnie at her locker; she was curious about the process of her birth parents.

Plus, I think she was eager to talk about something that wasn't supernatural once.

'Any luck with your aunt?' Bonnie asked.

'I can hardly stand to be in the same house as her.' Elena lamented. 'Besides, Jenna was a kid when I was born; I doubt she knows much.'

'It couldn't hurt to ask.' I said as I held the door open for the two. Bella's scent filled the room.

Her tiny voice mutters, 'I wish I had a friend to hang out with.'

'A boyfriend?' Caroline said gaiety.

'Caroline.'

'Well, you can hang out with me; Elena and Bonnie seemed to have formed an anti-Caroline club.' I heard Caroline say sadly as we searched for a table.

'Just talk to them, Care.' Matt insisted. 'I'm sure it's what you think.'

I watched Caroline stare at us crestfallen for a bit as we

chose a table near the window, then looked at her food.

Having her feelings hurt is better than having your neck ripped open. If she knew what was going she would freak out.

'It's nothing.' Caroline stabbed her apple with her spork.

'Stefan, your face.' Bonnie began to cringe.

'What is it?' Elena looked around.

'Isabella.'

'Is she bleeding?'

'No,' Elena scoffed, 'apparently Bella has the sweetest blood Stefan ever smelt.'

'Elena...'

'Is Bella in danger?' Bonnie asked while looking at Bella.

'I'm fine.'

'I could go with you.' I heard Bella's quiet voice offer.

'What's special about her blood?' Elena asked.

'I don't know.'

Isabella Swan is not a snack.

'No, they shut me out when they're ready to talk; they can come to me.'

Isabella Swan is a person.

'Bella's blood sings to Stefan.' Elena grimaced.

'I'm sorry if me wanting to rip open your friend's arteries and drain her dry is an inconvenience to your day.'

'She's not my friend.' Elena pouted.

Isabella Swan is a person with thoughts...

A person with feelings.

Caroline turned to Bella. 'Why did you throw your drink in Stefan's face?'

A person who throws her drink in my face.

Does everyone know about that?

'How'd you find out?'

'I told her.' Matt confessed.

'If being near Bella is such a problem for you-'

'It's fine.'

'Caroline seems sad.' Bonnie murmured.

'I wonder why Elena didn't.' Caroline wondered aloud.

'She misses her two best friends.' I told her.

'I heard Bella threw her drink in your face.' Bonnie stated.

'Seriously?'

'Why?'

'He said I'm behaving like an obsessed freak.' Bella articulated.

'It doesn't matter.'

'Is that what he said?' Matt looked at her. 'I thought he came onto you.'

'No.'

Why does he think that?

'Oh. Maybe he didn't tell Elena.'

'Why would he keep it from her?' Matt looked at us as

Caroline looked at him.

'How are you doing?' Bonnie asked, putting her hand on Elena's.

'I just can't believe my parent didn't tell me.'

'So, are we still doing the thing?' Bella asked. 'I'm curious to see what you have in store for me.'

'How do you tell someone their entire life is a lie?' Bonnie murmured.

Elena sighed as Caroline excitedly told Bella, 'I'm going to give you a complete makeover. First, a haircut-'

'Absolutely not.' Bella replied hotly. 'No cutting, no dyeing.'

'Talk to your aunt.' I insisted

'No, cutting, no dyeing.' Caroline repeated.

'Isabella Swan, please report to the principal's office.'

The voice made Bella jump, causing her to knock over her drink. Luckily, it was empty.

'What'd you do?' whispered Matt.

Bella shrugged, and she stumbled up and out the door.

'She forgot her bag.' Caroline murmured as she grabbed Bella's backpack, then she and Matt raced after.

'I wonder what she did.' Elena groaned.

I, too, wondered, and then an unsettling idea popped into my head.

What if it's Damon?

I threw a glare at Elena before standing up. 'Excuse me, I have to take care of something.'

'Do you need us to come with you?' Elena asked.

'No, just stay here.'

Why was I being summoned to the principal's office?

I always completed my homework and rarely got into trouble—well, not the typical kind.

So, what could I have possibly done to warrant such a visit?

Perhaps it had something to do with Vicky.

They might think, just like Mr. Tanner, that I was a drug abuser. The thought was absurd; I barely took the prescriptions I had.

With a nervous knot in my stomach, I stumbled into Principal Weber's office, where the air felt thick with tension. There, I found the guidance counselor, Ms. Douglas, conversing with a man I had never encountered.

Ms. Douglas looked expectant, her eyes darting toward me while the principal and the stranger continued their discussion in low tones.

The man turned to fix his gaze on me. He stood about 5'10", his average build almost blending into the background of the office. His long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail that swung slightly as he moved, and he wore a dark ensemble—jeans, a fitted shirt, a leather jacket, and rugged boots—that gave him an air of casual confidence.

As I approached, he tilted his head to the side, studying me with an intensity that made me feel small and vulnerable, like a mouse cornered by a cat.

"Isabella," Ms. Douglas called out, pulling my attention back to her as everyone turned toward me.

"Bella," I quickly corrected her, inching closer to the desk and shutting the door behind me with a soft click.

"How are you doing?" Ms. Douglas inquired, her voice warm yet edged with concern.

"I'm fine," I replied, the words feeling empty as I stepped closer to her desk, seeking reassurance.

"You haven't been by to see me lately," she observed a hint of disappointment in her tone.

I shrugged a gesture that conveyed my lack of motivation. "I haven't had much to talk about."

"Haven't had much to talk about?!" she echoed incredulously as Mr. Saltzman walked inside, holding what looked like a blue folder.

"Sorry I'm late," Mr. Saltzman said, glancing briefly at me before focusing on Ms. Douglas. "I asked the Hale girl to bring this—"

"Come back later, Ric," Principal Weber interrupted curtly. "Ms. Douglas and I—"

"A mountain lion attacked you, died, came back, and were in a coma for a week!" Ms. Douglas exclaimed, her voice rising with urgency. "That's more than enough to discuss."

Mr. Saltzman's gaze shifted toward me, making me acutely aware of the slight flush creeping onto my cheeks as I wondered if I had something embarrassing sticking out of my nose.

"I was told to come here," I stated, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Right," Ms. Douglas gestured toward the man beside her. "This is Dr. James Francis—"

"Dr. Francis?!" I interrupted, surprise leaking into my voice.

"Are you a psychiatrist?" I asked, casting a wary glance in his direction.

"Yes," he replied, his tone calm and measured.

He was leaner than Mr. Saltzman and had very ordinary features that made him appear bland. His movements had a cat-like grace, and his vigilant brown eyes seemed to assess me with a mix of professionalism and curiosity. His voice was pleasant yet generic, possessing a somewhat off-putting reassuring quality.

"I don't need a therapist," I insisted, pushing back against the encroaching unease.

"Isabella," Dr. Francis said, stepping closer, "may I call you that?"

"Bella," I corrected firmly.

"Bella. Ms. Douglas has conveyed some details about your history. You've witnessed your parents die, and your friend was attacked by the same animal that broke your neck," he stated, his voice unyielding yet compassionate.

I felt Mr. Saltzman's scrutiny on my neck—a searing reminder of the trauma I had experienced.

"So, you've read my Wikipedia page?" I retorted, sarcasm guiding my words.

"Isabella—"

"Bella," I interjected, feeling increasingly cornered.

"If I may," Mr. Saltzman interceded, stepping between Dr. Francis and me, forcing me to retreat slightly toward the door. "Maybe we should let Isobel talk to you when she's more comfortable."

"Bella," I repeated.

"I'm only here as a friend," Dr. Francis said, extending a card to me. "PTSD can cripple even the strongest soul."

"Great," I replied, taking the card with a trembling hand. "Can I be excused? I have to go to the ladies' room."

"Uh, sure," Principal Weber said, looking puzzled yet sympathetic.

I bolted from the office, their stares pressing heavily on my back as I rushed away.

"Bella!" Caroline's voice called, breaking through the haze of my thoughts.

I turned to see Caroline and Matt approaching, my backpack strapped to Matt's shoulders. I hurried toward them, eager for their company to distract me from the unsettling encounter.

"What did you do?" Matt asked, a hint of confusion edging his tone.

"They think I'm crazy," I admitted, feeling the world tilt under my feet.

"Crazy?!" Caroline echoed, her eyes widening as Stefan rounded the corner, his expression filled with concern.

"How on earth are you crazy?" Matt asked, frowning slightly.

I shrugged, at a loss for how to explain the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Stefan asked as he ambled closer, his gaze scrutinizing my face.

For a brief moment, I wondered if he was somehow involved in this situation.

"I have to go," I said, urgency propelling my words as I turned and quickly walked away, desperate to escape the weight of their questions.

'Did you have a good day at school?' asked Gran during the drive home.

'Ms. Douglas thinks I'm nuts.'

'Oh. How come?'

'My life.'

'You're not very talkative; people tend to worry about you.'

'I'm not overly fond of strangers poking around in my head.'

'My Beau was the same way.'

'Hey Gran? Did Beau have a girlfriend?'

'No, not really. He was painfully shy; besides,' she lowered her voice, 'I believe he was a homosexual.'

There goes the girlfriend theory.

'Why are you whispering?'

'When I was your age, that was not as accepted as today.'

'Was Gramps accepting?'

'No, but in the end, Beaufort realized a homosexual son is better than a dead one.'

Elena and I were snuggled up, spooning in my bed. Elena awoke, and I did shortly after. I kissed her on the cheek as she pulled my arm tighter around her.

'Mmm. Good morning.' she grinned.

'I could get used to this.'

Without warning, Damon burst into the room. 'Rise and shine, sleepyheads.'

Elena and I sat up, startled at Damon's presence at the end of my bed. We pull the sheets up to our chins.

'Damon! Please!' Elena huffed.

'What are you doing?' I demanded.

'Oh, stop being smutty.'

I pulled the sheets further on Elena; I didn't want him to peek. 'Seriously, get out of here!'

'If I see something I haven't seen before, I'll throw a dollar at it. Now listen, we have some critical business to discuss.'

'And it has to be right now?' Elena flared.

'Well, we have lots to do now that we're all friends and working toward a common goal.'

Elena and I exchanged looks as Damon got up from the end of the bed and turned to us.

'To open the tomb, we must find the journal to get the grimoire to undo the spells. First, you're on journal duty since you are Elena Gilbert.'

'Since when am I helping?'

'Well, Stefan's helping, and you've taken up residence in Stefan's bed, ergo...'

'You don't have to do anything you don't want.'

'I'll look for it tonight.' she sighed.

She laid back down in the bed and pulled the sheets over her face.

'Good.'

'How do we know that this journal will hold the location of the grimoire? Are we going to take the word of this vampire? He seemed like a bit of a dimwit.'

Damon shrugged in agreement. 'In lieu of any other options.'

Elena pulled the sheets down and sat up suddenly. 'OK, what exactly is a grimoire, anyway?'

'It's a witch's cookbook.'

'Every spell that a witch cast is unique unto itself, so every witch would document their work.'

'Yeah. Cookbook.'

'What about our mystery vampire?' I questioned. 'Dimwit wasn't working alone, so whoever's out there knows who we are.'

'And I don't like that disadvantage, so...' clapped his hands. 'Chop, chop.' he started to walk out of the room, turned around, and continued to walk backward out of the room while talking to us. 'You know, I like this whole menage a threesome team thing. It's got a bit of a kink to it.' He chuckles. 'Don't screw it up.'

Damon finally left the room; after a second, she glanced at me.

'He doesn't--' I placed my finger to my lips and pointed to the door, then my ear. 'Oh, right, yeah.'

I grabbed her hand and kissed it, then exited the bed.

'OK.'

Elena pulled me back into bed. 'Oh! No, come here.'

I kept catching Mr. Saltzman, my teacher, stealing glances at me from his desk, and I did everything I could to ignore him.

Instead, I buried my nose in my weathered copy of *Wuthering Heights, letting the moody landscapes of Yorkshire consume my thoughts.

I diligently worked on my assignments and even tried to chat with my classmates, although I felt more like an outsider than ever.

A girl sitting in front of me, someone I barely knew, was surprised to see me back at school after Vicky's shocking attack. Her brightly colored hair caught the light as she animatedly suggested I should sue the city for what happened to me.

Then, she launched into a conversation about boys and clothes, her words a jumble of teenage concerns. It all felt nonsensical after a while, but even she couldn't ignore the fact that Mr. Saltzman's gaze was fixed on me.

"Mr. Saltzman is staring at you," she remarked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"No, he's not," I replied defensively, not wanting to

acknowledge his attention.

"Yeah, he is," Jeremy said.

"What?" I asked, genuinely taken aback.

"It's true," the girl, who was blonde and strikingly beautiful, insisted. "At first, it was funny, but now it's a little creepy."

My eyes fell to the notebook perched on her desk, where I noticed R. Hale scrawled in elegant handwriting at the top right corner.

"You'd better watch yourself," Hale warned, her voice slicing through my thoughts like a knife. "Your luck is bound to run out."

"Mr. Saltzman probably found out about your attack," Jeremy glared at her. "Not many people survive a mountain attack."

"Vicky Donavon did," Hale replied bluntly as the bell rang, its shrill sound reverberating through the classroom.

As Jeremy rushed out, eager to escape, Hale began packing her things with a deliberate slowness that made me uneasy. Just as I stepped out after Jeremy, Mr. Saltzman called my name, his tone unexpectedly authoritative.

"Isobel Swan?" he said, standing by the door with a serious

expression. "May I have a word?"

How hard is it to remember Isabella?

At this point, I'd welcome even the name Isabella since at least it would be correct.

I shot a glance at Hale; she gave me a look that clearly said, "I told you so," before she slipped out of the classroom.

"Sir?" I asked, edging closer as the tension in the air thickened.

"How are you doing?" he began, his eyes searching mine as if looking for an answer hidden deep within.

"Fine," I replied curtly, unwilling to divulge more than necessary.

"Ms. Douglas and that doctor haven't tried to ambush you again, have they?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Like you are doing now?

"No," I said, trying to keep my irritation in check.

"I've noticed you are hanging out with Jeremy Gilbert."

"We're neighbors, yeah," I answered, feeling the need to justify our friendship.

"Did you help him with his paper?" he probed again, and I could sense the underlying skepticism in his tone.

"What?" I asked, confusion clouding my mind.

"He mentioned you helped—"

"Are you trying to figure out if Jeremy cheated?" I interrupted, irritation rising in my voice.

"No," he assured, "I don't think Jeremy is a cheater—"

"Good, because I can't fathom why an educator would assume the daughter of another would help a cheater," I countered sharply.

"The daughter of an educator? I thought the guy who died was childless," he replied, seemingly taken aback.

"What?! No, my mother was a teacher," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Retired?"

"Deceased," I said, my voice dropping slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, a flicker of empathy crossing his face.

"Is there anything else you need?" I pressed, trying to shift the awkward atmosphere.

"So, I hear you're quite the survivor—"

"I guess," I replied, unsure of how to respond.

"You guess? Do you know what you survived?" he asked, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.

Do you, Mr. Saltzman?

Why is he so interested in me?

Is he a vampire, too?

"A car crash?" I offered, my mind racing.

"And a mountain lion," he added, studying my reaction.

"I have a mental block about it," I confessed, feeling a wave of vulnerability.

"A mental block?" he echoed, stepping closer slightly, his expression now concerned. "Has anyone who wouldn't normally be around you been lurking nearby?"

"You mean besides you?"

'Right.' He said as he cleared his throat, his face tinged with pink. 'Besides me.'

"Yeah, the entire school," I replied, staring at the floor.

"The entire school?" he repeated, clearly taken aback.

"I'm the new kid," I emphasized.

"Oh," he said, an understanding dawning on his face. "Well, if you need anyone to talk to-'

"I gotta go," I said abruptly, the urgency to escape this conversation overwhelming me.

I rushed out of the room, rounded a corner, and collided with someone.

The girl I ran into stood about 5'5" with brown hair and warm, curious eyes; she looked utterly unfamiliar.

"Sorry," I blurted out, catching my breath.

"It's okay," she replied with a friendly smile, her voice soothing.

Did this girl even attend this school?

"What's your name?" I asked, genuinely curious despite my haste.

"I have to get to class, and I can't be late," she said, glancing at the clock.

"Okay," I responded, a bit disappointed.

"I like your perfume," she called after me as I walked away.

I wasn't wearing any perfume; maybe it was just the scent of my shampoo lingering in the air.

'What did Mr. Saltzman want?' I heard Jeremy's voice ask Bella.

Elena and I were making our way to them; she was strolling because we were talking about her conversation with Jenna.

During this, she learned that her birth mother was a teenage runaway. She gave birth to Elena and left her with Gilberts a few days later.

'I wonder why she left me.'

'Well, you said that she was sixteen; maybe she was wise enough to realize she couldn't handle the responsibility of a child.'

'Then why have me?'

'A girl in a small town getting an abortion, maybe she was afraid she might be judged.'

'I just can't believe this.'

'At first, I thought it was about your essay,' Bella mumbled, 'but I think it was a ploy.'

'I was abandoned, thrown away like trash.'

'That's not true.' I interjected, taking her face in my hands. 'Your mother knew she couldn't give you the life you deserved. She chose you over herself, so she left you with the Gilberts.'

'A ploy?' Jeremy's voice cut through my thoughts. 'A ploy for what?'

'To talk about my attack.'

'Didn't you say he walked in on you and that shrink?'

'Yeah, but maybe that girl was right; my luck has run out.'

'I knew Rosalie was trying to stir the pot.' He scoffed. 'She's not the girl you should be friends with.'

'People used to tell me the same thing about Vicky.'

This made Jeremy pause and then look away. 'Yeah, me too.' he turned back to her. 'Has she reached out to you?'

Bella turned to him and saw Elena and I; she, Bella, and I locked eyes for a moment, then looked away.

'No. I'm going to try to leg it.'

'We can leg it together-'

'Your sister may disagree.'

'Bella.'

'Bella.' Mrs. Higginbothanm's voice called as the truck pulled up.

'I'll talk to you later.'

Bella ambled over to her grandmother; they exchanged pleasantries, then left.

'Jeremy.' called Elena. 'Are you catching me?'

'Have you spoken to Matt? 'He asked as he turned to Elena. 'Has he spoken to Vicky?'

Elena paled at the question. 'N-No. Jeremy, she's with her mother.'

'Winter break is coming; maybe we could drive up there to see her.'

'What? why?'

'What do you mean why? To see Vicky! To make sure she's ok!'

'I'm sure Vicky's mom would let us know if-'

'The same mom who didn't rush back home after a mountain lion attacked her daughter!'

'Did Bella mention this to you?'

'What?'

Elena turned in the direction Bella and her grandmother drove off in.

'I saw her talking to you,' Elena turned back to him, 'did she upset you?!'

'What does she have to do with Vicky? I want to see her.'

'Jeremy, it's time to move on.'

'Like you and Damon?! Do Caroline and Stefan know that you and Damon were shacked up for two days?' he stomped away. 'I'll find my own way home!'

I guess Bella told Jeremy about Damon and Elena being in Georgia.

'What did that weirdo say to him?' she turned to me. 'What did she say to him?'

'They were talking about Mr. Saltzman.'

Elena rolled her eyes and shook her head. 'We can't do this forever.'