Dear Diary,

This morning feels different.

There is a change in the air.

I can sense it and feel it.

I'm awake.

I feel completely and undeniably alert for the first time in a long time.

For once, I don't regret what happened yesterday; I welcome today because I know I will see him again.

Finally, after what feels like ages, I feel good.

Matt, Gran, and even Vicky were persistent in their insistence that I go home and get some rest, but the truth was, I couldn't bear the thought of being alone there. I could already envision myself fretting all day, trapped in a whirlwind of worries, so I decided to slip away to school while Gran remained blissfully asleep in her armchair, a soft blanket draped over her.

I needed to clear my head.

Vicky had sworn that a real vampire had attacked her—an actual vampire.

I was filled with curiosity and dread, desperate to learn more about what had happened. Yet, I knew that with Matt and Gran hovering nearby, they would likely dismiss our fears as childish fantasies and have us both committed to a mental health facility.

And then there was the unsettling mystery of my dream.

Stefan Salvatore had looked undeniably like a vampire, but...

Lost in thought, I suddenly bumped into someone, jolting me back to reality. "Oof! Sorry," I apologized, looking up.

"The fault is mine," he replied smoothly, a hint of charm in his voice.

He was striking—about 24 or 25 years old, handsome beyond belief, standing tall at approximately 5'11" with a well-built, athletic physique. His skin had a light, almost luminous quality with olive undertones that accentuated his strong bone structure. High cheekbones and a defined jawline added to his allure. His dark brown hair, nearly black in the morning light, hung just over his ears in a tousled, casual manner. But what captivated me were his striking blue eyes; they seemed to shine and almost shimmer against the backdrop of his dark hair and eyebrows, full of an intensity that held my gaze. He wore a sleek black leather jacket—an original from John Varvatos—and a dark blue shirt, form-fitting black jeans, and polished black boots that completed his enigmatic appearance.

On his right pinky, he sported a sizable lapis lazuli ring that gleamed in the light, triggering a flicker of familiarity in my mind.

Somehow, he seemed almost familiar to me.

"Nice ring," I commented.

"Thanks, it's a family heirloom," he replied with a hint of pride.

Just then, a whirlwind of pink and excitement rushed up behind him—it was Caroline, her ensemble bright and fun in a pink shirt, a flared skirt, and stylish pumps.

"Bella!" she exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm.

"Is this the girl you were telling me about?" she asked him brightly.

Although he was undeniably handsome, it was immediately apparent that he was too old for the bubbly 16 or 17-year-old Caroline.

"Uh, no. This is—" began Caroline, but I interrupted.

"Someone who is very late for class!" I grabbed Caroline's hand, urging her forward. "As are you! Bonnie is looking for you, and I need to know all about last night's party."

"Oh, well—" she stammered, caught off guard.

"Plus, Bonnie wants to talk to you!" I added, trying to steer her away from this unexpected encounter.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the hallway, tossing my hair into the guy's face. Caroline instantly rushed to my side, pulling out a comb with a determined look.

"I think it's time for us to chat about your hair," she declared as she combed it roughly. "You're still wearing the same clothes from yesterday!"

"I know. Ow," I winced at her ministrations.

"And you smell like a hospital," she continued, oblivious to my discomfort.

"I spent the night at the hospital. Ow!" I protested, trying to extricate myself from her grip.

"Oh, Be—"

"I think she smells delicious," the guy interjected, his tone suddenly dripping with something dark and predatory.

There was an unsettling quality to his voice, enough to send a chill down my spine and make me feel vulnerable. His smile seemed to carry an ominous undertone that made me instinctively aware of the danger lurking beneath the surface. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the brink of becoming his next meal if I didn't get away fast.

With newfound urgency, I pulled Caroline away, and as we hurried off, I heard the guy call after us, "Bye, Blondie. See you around, Schoolgirl."

'Why were you at the hospital?' Caroline asked as I dragged her into the girls' room.

'I was visiting Vicky Donovan.'

'Oh, I heard a wild animal attacked her.'

I kept Vicky's vampire claim to myself as I glanced at Caroline; she was retouching her makeup.

'I know, Matt told me.'

'She was probably high or something.'

The second person to portray Vicky as an addict.

'Who's that?' I demanded, not wanting to think of Vicky like that.

'I don't know; I met him last night.'

'You met him last night?!'

'Yeah.'

'And you spent the night with him?!' I nearly exploded.

'Calm down!' She flared as she turned to me, matching my heat with hers. 'I didn't have sex with the guy! We talked for five minutes while Bonnie got the car!'

'Then why was he here?'

'He said he had a little brother that when here.'

'Caroline,' Bonnie burst into the room, 'Bella?' She was wearing a hunter-green tunic, dark jeans, and a pair of brown wedge sandals. 'Didn't you wear that yesterday?'

'Yes, I was at the hospital-'

'Were you attacked too?'

'I was visiting Vicky- are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine.'

'You spaced out...'

'Fine, totally fine.' Her face didn't match her words. 'I didn't see you at the party.'

'I didn't go.' I swallowed my guilt and pointed at the blonde. 'Caroline has like a 30-year-old man-'

'He's not 30! He's college-age.'

'Bringing her to school!'

'Are you talking about the guy from last night?' Bonnie

looked at Caroline. 'I thought you didn't know his name.'

'I didn't!' Caroline tossed me an aggravated glance. 'As I told Miss. Judgey, he was dropping off his little brother when he saw me.'

I didn't buy it, but Bonnie gave me a look that warned me not to fight for now, at least.

'Why didn't you come last night?'

'Vicky asked me to go; Gran said no.'

Caroline returned to her makeup, and as I avoided Bonnie's gaze, I got the suspicion that she was trying to read me.

'Are you angry at your grandmother?'

'No.'

'I would be.' Caroline said, putting her makeup back in her bag. 'Keeping you locked up, I would sneak out.'

'I'm not the party type.'

'What did you want?'

'Huh?' Bonnie choked.

'Bella said you wanted to talk to me.' Caroline turned to her

as I edged towards the door. 'What did you want?'

I saw this as my cue to exit; my attitude was confirmed when I heard Caroline scream, 'Bella!'

I spent the day skillfully avoiding Caroline, which was surprisingly easy since we didn't share any classes or even belong to the same grade. The hallways thronged with students, and I maneuvered through the crowd, hoping to stay out of her sight.

My spirits faltered even further as I realized I hadn't seen Stefan Salvatore all day. The thought of him sent a weight of longing deep into my chest, mingled with the memory of Vicky and the haunting remnants of my recent nightmare.

As I drifted through my classes, none of my teachers or classmates seemed to notice my distracted state, except for on—

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan, am I boring you?" Mr. Tanner's voice pulled me from my thoughts, laced with a hint of amusement.

The class erupted in giggles, and I snapped straight in my seat, a yawn escaping my lips despite my efforts to suppress it.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. Hospitals aren't the most comfortable places; I didn't get much sleep last night," I replied, my voice tinged with my fatigue.

"And you still came to class?" A bubbly blonde girl chirped from the back of the room. "That's a get-out-of-jail-free card if I ever saw one."

"You don't look ill," Mr. Tanner continued, casting a scrutinizing glance.

"No, it wasn't me in the hospital; my friend was," I corrected as Jeremy, sitting nearby, turned to me suddenly alertly.

"Your friend?" Jeremy leaned forward, his disheveled hair suggesting he hadn't slept. "Are you talking about Vicky Donovan?"

"Do you know her?" I asked, intrigued.

"My sister's ex's sister. How—" he began, but the bell rang, slicing through our conversation. Students rushed out the door, laughter and chatter filling the air as I hastily gathered my things.

"Is there something I can help you with, Gilbert?" Mr. Tanner asked, his attention shifting to Jeremy as he hovered nearby.

I jumped at the sudden inquiry, glancing up to see Jeremy's concerned expression. He turned to our teacher, and I resumed packing quickly.

"Uh, no, sir."

"I have a parent-teacher conference in five minutes—"

As I hurriedly stuffed my books into my bag, my pants caught on the door frame, nearly causing me to drop everything again. In the chaotic scramble, my belongings flew toward a perfectly placed Elena Gilbert.

And, of course, Stefan Salvatore.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my eyes glued to my things as I knelt to retrieve them.

"So you are capable of apologizing," Elena remarked with a sharp tone, her demeanor challenging.

"I can if I'm wrong," I shot back, finally meeting her gaze.

She stood confidently in a blue tank top, blue jeans, and sleek black sneakers, radiating a sharpness that didn't sit well with me. Meanwhile, Stefan knelt beside me, wearing a fitted gray T-shirt, jeans, and black sneakers that complemented his striking features.

"Bella," Jeremy said, rushing to my side with a sense of urgency. "Let me help you."

"It's fine," I insisted, trying to brush him off.

"Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" Elena nudged Stefan and pointed at me with a smirk. "She wore that yesterday."

Stefan glanced at me, holding out my well-loved copy of *Wuthering Heights*. "Here," he said, a smalllaying on his lips. "A fan of the classics, I see."

"Thank you," I replied, taking the book from him.

"It's a bit worn out. Maybe it's time to get a new one," he suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

I shook my head, a smile creeping onto my face. "Never."

As our hands brushed, an electric shock surged through me, causing me to drop my once morece more.

"Damn it, Bella," Jeremy muttered, exasperated, as he began to gather my scattered belongings again.

I quickly stood, flipping my hair over my shoulder to some e some distance between us. I peered through my dark curtain of hair, noticing Stefan had moved away from me, pinching his nose in mild disgust.

Did I smell that bad?

It hit me then—I hadn't showered since coming home.

I shifted away from him, taking subtle whiffs of my hair. It smelled like a strange combination of hospital disinfectant and strawberries, a scent that felt oddly disorienting.

"Thanks," I muttered as Jeremy returned my books. "I should get going."

"Hold on," Jeremy called after me, his voice cutting through the noise of parting students. "Wait up."

"I don't think we have any classes together—" I began.

"Is Vicky all right?" he asked, urgency lacing his tone.

He lowered his voice, ensuring Elena couldn't hear us.

"When I left, she was sleeping—"

"Do you know what attacked her?" He leaned in closer, his worry evident.

"I heard it was an animal. I wasn't there—I only know what I was told. She might be awake now; maybe Elena can call Matt and ask. Some say that she was..."

"What?" he pressed, curiosity piqued.

"On drugs."

"What does that have to do with it?" he asked, confusion flickering across his face.

"She said it was a vampire."

Jeremy seemed to zone out, lost in thought. I glanced back at Elena and Stefan; Elena was glaring at me, muttering something under her breath. Stefan's eyes were locked onto mine, a predatory intensity in his gaze that made me shiver.

"Did you say vampire?"

Jeremy's question caught me off guard, and I turned to him in surprise.

"If someone assaulted me while I was drunk, I'm pretty sure they'd look like a vampire to me, too," I replied, my voice steady despite the uncertainty in my heart.

"Did you see anything?" he asked, his seriousness returning.

"I didn't go."

"Why not?"

"Gran said no; Vicky, Matt, and her boyfriend, Tyler—"

"That jerk isn't Vicky's boyfriend."

"Oh."think to all I could think to say, though confusion lingered in my mind. "He seems nice."

"He's not!" Jeremy frowned, his face shadowing with protectiveness. "Don't ever be alone with him."

"Okay," I agreed, feeling the weight of his warning.

"I have to go," he said, his tone final, leavhanging ir of concern hanging between us.

Vampire!

Vicky knows that Damon attacked her and told Isabella.

She seemed to have written it off as a drunken tale, but I can't have people finding out.

'Is Vicky okay?' I heard Elena's voice ask.

After lunch, Elena went to look for Matt, Vicky's brother, to get an update on her.

'They're keeping her overnight to ensure no infection, but she should be able to come home tomorrow.'

'That's good news.'

'Yeah'

'Did you get in touch with your mom?'

'Called and left a message. She's in Virginia Beach with her boyfriend, so we'll see how long it takes her to come rushing home.'

'Vicky is lucky that she's okay.'

'I know, and now there's talk about missing campers.'

'Did she say what kind of animal it was that attacked her?'

'She said it was a vampire.'

'What?'

'Yeah, she wakes up, mutters vampire, then passes back out.'

'Ok, that was weird.'

'I think she was drunk. So, what's up with you and the new guy?'

'Matt, the last thing I want to do is hurt you.'

'You know, I'm... I'm going to go back to the hospital. I want to be there when Vicky wakes up and get the real story about last night.

Get to the hospital before Matt.

After school, I went straight home and booted up my computer. I haven't turned it on since I left Forks; I wonder if I got any emails from Jacob.

I eventually went to my favorite search engine and typed one word: Vampire.

Most of the sites were gory or role-playing, and none of them stood out to me.

So, I added myths.

Everyone knows that vampires are vulnerable to garlic and Holy items.

Why do vampires hate garlic? I typed into the search engine.

Some sites said it was because it was garlic has a chemical compound called allicin, and some Europeans believed that vampirism was a disease. The chemical is supposed to be powerful enough to kill the infection. Others say that it lowers the user's blood pressure. Some say that it smells so bad.

Do vampires hate garlic? I'd gotten rid of the why.

No, they hate Vervain.

I'd never heard of that; what was it?

What is vervain?

Verbena, also known as vervain or verveine, is a genus in the family Verbenaceae. It contains about 150 annual and

perennial herbaceous or semi-woody flowering plants.

What is vervain used for?

Vervain is used in traditional medicineto treat infections and abdominal pain and to promote milk production in breastfeeding women.

Why do vampires hate vervain?

Vervain (or verbena)is a potentherb and avampire's most well-known weakness. Vervain, if touched by a vampire, can cause burns to the skin. If ahumanhas ingested vervain and a vampire feeds on them, the vampire is affected within seconds and significantly weakened. If a human consumes or holds vervain somewhere on the body (such as having it in their hand or pocket or wearing it in jewelry), the human is protected by vampire compulsion and entitled to free will.

Compulsion?

Isn't that, like, hypnosis or something?

Mind control.

I pushed myself away from the monitor and shook my head.

Bella, you're overthinking; vampires aren't real.

Still, I typed vampire novels into the box.

Dracula was at the top of the list, published in 1897.

But another title, Varney The Vampire, caught my eye; it was a series of Penny Dreadfuls published between 1845 and 1847.

The weekly stories became a full-length novel published in 1847, the same year as my beloved Wuthering Heights.

And it was in the town's library.

I crawled into bed, closed my eyes, and was nearly asleep when a weak voice cried out, 'Bella.'

I rushed downstairs, only nearly falling twice. 'Gran!'

I found Gran standing in the doorway; a man stood before her, holding her by the neck.

From the top of the stairs, he looked as if he was kissing her, but as I got closer, I could see the blood.

A guy about 24 or 25 years old: he was very handsome, standing in at 5'11 with a well-built, toned physique.

He had a light complexion with olive undertones, a strong bone structure with high cheekbones, and a solid jawline.

His dark brown hair looked black and hung just over his ears looked disheveled.

His striking blue eyes wonderfully clashed against his dark hair and eyebrows.

He wore a black leather jacket, a John Varvatos original, a dark blue shirt, black boots, and dark jeans.

He wore a large lapis lazuli on his right pinky; it looked familiar to me.

He seemed familiar to me; it was the man from earlier.

He let go of Gran, and she dropped like a stone. He stepped over her, and inside the house, a bloody smile spread across his face.

'I've been looking for you.'