I couldn't find solace in sleep; my restless mind refused to quiet down. Stefan had stayed with me for a short while, his calming presence a temporary balm to my anxiety, but eventually, he left for the bonfire.
We hadn't shared anything particularly intimate, but he had filled me in on the unsettling events unfolding around us.
Just as the new school year began, Stefan had returned only a few days before.
There was an unsettling urgency in his voice when he spoke of Klaus's plans—Klaus needed Elena to help him create more hybrids, an endeavor cloaked in danger.
With his unique transformation, Tyler Lockwood was the first successful hybrid in this fearful game.
With Klaus temporarily absent from town, Stefan's primary responsibility was to closely watch Elena, Tyler, and Rebekah.
Rebekah resides at the boarding house, and the thought left me uneasy. When I mentioned my discomfort to Stefan, he assured me he could return if needed, but the days passed, and he never returned.
Nor did he show up at school, and despite my persistent calls and messages, there was only silence in response.
By the end of the week, I found myself seated at lunch with Rosalie on that Friday afternoon. We chatted quietly when Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena suddenly joined our table. Rosalie and I exchanged knowing glances, the atmosphere shifting as they settled in.
"Bella!" Caroline exclaimed brightly, breaking the lull. Rosalie cleared her throat, her demeanor instantly formal. "Hello, Rosalie," she said curtly.
"Caroline," Rosalie replied, her tone measured.
"Rosalie," Bonnie chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable. "I read your article—'Hydration and Mental Health: The Secret to Radiant Skin.' My grandmother used to say the same thing!"
"Thank you, Bonnie," Rosalie replied, the corners of her lips peeking into a smile. "That means a lot, especially coming from someone as pretty as you."
"Oh, goodness, so are you!" Bonnie responded, flustered.
"So, Rosalie," Elena interjected, shifting the conversation abruptly, "we applied for Whitmore, but they mentioned that Caroline needs experience in journalism too—"
"RJ," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes as her smile faded into annoyance.
"RJ?" Elena echoed, confused.
"Royce King III," Rosalie elaborated, her irritation evident. "He's the lead reporter, connected with the editors, and has a soft spot for cheerleaders."
"Oh," Elena murmured as she exchanged glances with Caroline and Bonnie.
Bet that threw a monkey wrench in your plans, Elena.
"I've heard Royce is a total jerk," Bonnie piped up, her voice low. "Jenny Smith dated him once. We had chemistry together a couple of years ago—she spent so much time crying over him that we had to make up assignments."
"I thought he was with Joan Michaels from woodshop," Caroline admitted, her brow furrowing.
"Nope," Bonnie insisted. "Joan was the reason Jenny was always tearing up in class."
"Didn't Royce ditch Joan for Beverley Days?" Caroline asked, probing further.
"No," Rosalie corrected her. "RJ cheated on Joan with Beverley; that hardly counts as a breakup."
"I caught him kissing Sarah Quinton in the girls' restroom," I blurted out.
Rosalie turned to me, eyes wide. "How long have you been sitting on this gem?!"
"Just a few hours," I replied casually. "He told me it was a secret and immediately asked me out."
"What did you say?" Bonnie questioned, genuinely curious.
"I said no. I don't pursue other people's boyfriends," I affirmed, crossing my arms defiantly.
"Really?!" Elena exclaimed, disbelief lacing her tone. "You don't go after other people's boyfriends?!"
"No, I don't," I shot back, glaring at her as tension enveloped the table.
"Being attracted to someone else's boyfriend is just tacky!" Elena snapped, her voice raised.
"I couldn't agree more," I said sharply, tossing my fork down with irritation.
"Ladies…" Bonnie interjected slowly, trying to diffuse the situation.
"Maybe we should go," Caroline suggested uneasily.
"Oh, don't, brother," I barked, my glare still fixed on Elena, who paled under my gaze. "sorry, I meant bother." I smiled. "Don't bother. Rosalie mentioned she needed to hit the library."
"I did?" Rosalie coughed, clearly taken aback, but I shot her a pointed look. "Oh, right. We should go. I have a report to finish," she added quickly, eager to escape the tension as we stood to leave.
Rosalie and Bella were nestled within the labyrinth of bookshelves in their school library, the scent of aged paper filling the air. Bella stormed around their round table, her frustration palpable as she paced back and forth, her footsteps echoing slightly on the polished floor. Rosalie observed her from the corner of her eye, noting the tension in Bella's frame and how her hands fidget nervously.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Rosalie ventured after Bella completed her fourth lap, leaning slightly forward in her chair, curiosity etched on her face.
"Huh?" Bella spun around, her eyes widening as she nearly stumbled over her feet. "Dang it."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Rosalie repeated, her voice soft and encouraging as Bella finally crashed into the chair opposite her, her breath coming in quick bursts. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Nothing, it's just..." Bella trailed off, her brow furrowing as she searched for the right words.
"Just what?" Rosalie prompted, leaning in a little closer.
"I can't stand Elena Gilbert!" Bella suddenly erupted, a fierce spark igniting in her eyes.
"Shhhhh!" a nearby student hissed, shooting them an annoyed glare.
"Most in Mystic Falls seem to adore her," Rosalie whispered back, her tone laced with intrigue. "But I guess there's more beneath the surface."
"She's an entitled, selfish little... brat," Bella sniped, her disdain evident as she clenched her fists in frustration.
"Are you sure that's the word you were searching for?" Rosalie teased, a playful smirk edging onto her lips.
Bella shot Rosalie an irritated look that could melt ice. "Yeah, it was."
"Why do you think Elena Gilbert is an entitled, selfish little... brat?" Rosalie asked, genuinely curious.
"I, too, would like to know," chimed in an accented, smooth and confident voice.
Bella's hand instinctively grabbed Rosalie's wrist as Rebekah Mikaelson, the new girl, strutted up to their table. Draped in chic, designer clothes that showcased her glamorous style, she radiated self-assurance, making Rosalie suddenly feel like an underdressed wallflower.
After exchanging a quick glance filled with unspoken thoughts, Bella and Rosalie watched as Rebekah pulled up a chair with a flourish.
"I'm all ears," Rebekah declared, her voice laced with a hint of mischief.
"I'm tight-lipped," Bella retorted, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Why does a senior want to hang out with two sophomores?" Rosalie asked, her brows knitting together in curiosity.
"I don't have any friends," Rebekah replied, a hint of vulnerability fleeting across her face.
"What about Elena Gilbert?" Bella challenged, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Don't you two have some sort of sandbox love?"
"She's too busy with her own life," Rebekah shot back, her glare fierce enough to cut through the air, and if looks could kill...
"I prefer brunettes," Rosalie interjected with a playful grin. "Blondes aren't as fun to fight with. They don't underestimate you as often as brunettes do."
"Brunette here," Bella quipped, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes.
Rebekah looked away, momentarily wounded by their banter, but Bella remained unfazed, her confidence shimmering like sunlight on water.
"Besides," Bella continued, a mischievous glint in her eye, "you know how the saying goes: two's plenty and three's a crowd."
"Unless you're Suzanne Somers,"
"Who's Suzanne Somers?" Rebekah asked, genuine curiosity edging into her tone.
"That reminds me," Bella said, tugging Rosalie's arm urgently. "We have to go meet the doctor for my medication." She turned to Rosalie, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Do you have the homework?"
"Whose homework?" Rosalie inquired, her brow raised as she and Bella hastily gathered their belongings.
"Ric The Prick," Bella replied with a teasing lilt.
"Excuse me?" Rebekah stood up, surprised by Bella's boldness.
"You're excused," Rosalie quipped, her tone light, as Bella stood firmly between her and Rebekah. "What's going on here?"
"I don't appreciate the disrespect," Rebekah said, crossing her arms defensively.
"And I don't like the company you keep," Bella asserted, her voice steady and unwavering.
"You don't—"
"What's going on?" Ms. Douglas's voice cut through the tension as she appeared, commanding attention.
"Nothing," Bella snapped, her frustration simmering below the surface. She took Rosalie by the arm, ready to escape. "Rosalie and I were just leaving." Turning to Rosalie, she asked, "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, let's go," Rosalie replied, sensing the urgency in Bella's tone as they made their way toward the library's exit, the atmosphere around them thick with unresolved tension.
What about Klaus's sister made her so eager to befriend us?
Perhaps Mr. Saltzman was right; maybe Klaus was watching my every move.
I couldn't shake the feeling that Rosalie was under his watchful gaze, too.
And then there was Elena.
What was her obsession with getting Caroline and Rosalie alone together?
Klaus. Rebekah. Elena.
All three of them had compulsion at their disposal—yet Rosalie was left unprotected.
For reasons I couldn't quite understand, I had developed an immunity to their powers while Rosalie remained vulnerable.
Rosalie broke the silence as we waited for her ride outside the bustling school. "Why don't you like Rebekah?"
"I don't trust her," I replied, my fingers instinctively rubbing the locket that hung around my neck. "Every time a stranger pops up, I end up in the hospital."
She nodded, understanding my sentiment. "Fair enough."
As a thought crossed my mind, I turned toward Rosalie, my heart pounding slightly. "Hey, I want you to hold on to something for me."
She looked curious. "What is it?"
I gently touched Stefan's locket. "I received this when I met my bio mom's mom. My bio mom's mother told me it was vital, a treasured heirloom that's been in her family for centuries. I really don't want any potential relatives showing up out of the blue and trying to take it from me. Would you look after it for me?"
"Sure," Rosalie replied sincerely as I carefully fastened the necklace around her neck. There was a moment of connection as our eyes met. "Uh... thanks. That's my ride over there."
Thank goodness it was Saturday, Rosalie thought, nestled comfortably on the couch in her cozy pink plaid pajamas.
The soft fabric felt soothing against her skin as she was immersed in her laptop, diligently finalizing her report on Tobias Fell. Just as she was piecing together her thoughts, a sudden knock on the door shattered her focus.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling up as she snapped her laptop shut, the screen going dark.
She hated being interrupted, especially when she was so close to finishing, but the reality was that it was an unavoidable part of life.
"It could be Meredith," she mused.
"I'll get it!" she called out to her mother, who was bustling around in the kitchen.
Rosalie slid her feet into fluffy slippers and went to the door. As she creaked it open, she saw Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert standing on her porch, their smiles bright but somewhat mischievous.
"What are they doing here?" Rosalie wondered, feeling an uneasy sense of foreboding.
"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms defensively.
"Rosalie," Elena chirped cheerfully, her vibrant smile lighting up her face. "Hello!"
"Hi," Rosalie replied slowly, her voice lacking enthusiasm.
Caroline took a step forward, her expression earnest. "Rosalie, I wanted to finish our conversation from yesterday."
"Did you need RJ's number? You didn't have to come all the way here; you could have just asked Bella," Rosalie responded, her tone sharper than she intended, but she wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
"Well—" Caroline began, but her words were quickly cut off.
"We don't want to inconvenience her," Elena interjected, attempting to steer the conversation differently.
"Yet it seems you don't mind inconveniencing someone who lives on the other side of town," Rosalie shot back, her patience thinning as she crossed her arms tighter.
Caroline glanced at Elena, who rolled her eyes in exasperation. "We're on our way to Bonnie, so we figured we'd swing by," Caroline said, trying to sound casual.
"Can we come in?" Elena pressed, her tone insistently bright.
"My mother isn't keen on inviting guests who don't call ahead," Rosalie replied firmly, her lips curling slightly in a smirk. "Something about being a distant relative of a—"
"It'll only take a minute," Elena interrupted, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice.
"No," Rosalie declared with finality. "I'll grab my robe."
Rosalie ascended the staircase, the soft fabric of her robe brushing against her skin as she slipped it on. As she reached her desk, her gaze caught the glimmer of Bella's golden locket resting there, illuminated by the soft light filtering through the window. Intrigued, she paused, her mind racing with thoughts. An inexplicable instinct urged her to pick it up, fasten it around her neck, and tuck it discreetly into her robe, concealing it from view.
Feeling a surge of determination, Rosalie returned to the porch where her guests awaited, but not before sending Bella a quick, deliberate text that hinted at the unfolding tension.
"Okay," Rosalie announced with a commanding tone as they stood together under the porch's protective overhang, the evening air buzzing with anticipation. "What is this really about?"
Elena hesitated, shifting nervously, while Caroline's hand clamped firmly onto Rosalie's shoulder. "We were hoping you could help us," she said, her eyes intense with purpose.
"Help you with what?" Rosalie replied, her brow furrowing as she attempted to free herself from Caroline's surprisingly firm grip.
"By telling us everything you know about Bella," Caroline insisted, her gaze piercing into Rosalie's as if trying to uncover hidden truths.
"What?!" Rosalie's voice rose, echoing the disbelief that coursed through her veins. "You came here to dig up dirt on Bella?!"
"Huh?" they both exclaimed, taken aback as Caroline released her hold, confusion written across their faces.
"Why—" Caroline stuttered, struck by Rosalie's fierce reaction.
"No, no," Elena interrupted, her expression pleading. "We just—"
"Just what?" Rosalie pressed, standing her ground, unyielding in her stance.
The two girls exchanged uneasy glances, clearly taken aback by Rosalie's intensity, before they faced her again, uncertainty flickering in their eyes.
"What I thought," Rosalie declared, her voice steady and unwavering, as she took a deliberate step back inside. "I will not assist you in your campaign against her." Determined, she slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating in the night, leaving no room for doubt about her resolve.
Bella's frustration boiled over as she sent Caroline a barrage of angry messages, each dripping with concern and suspicion about her and Elena's intentions regarding Rosalie.
Their intentions were far from sinister; they merely sought to uncover what Bella knew. Caroline and Bonnie speculated that perhaps Bella had confided everything to Rosalie while Elena remained an enigma.
Caroline believed that Elena was too stubborn to ask Bella directly about Isobel's mother, clinging to her assumptions instead.
Aside from the tension surrounding Bella, the weekend had passed pleasantly. But as the new week began, the atmosphere shifted…
Just as Caroline was about to leave her house for school, an unexpected sound startled her—a firm knock echoed through the air. Startled, she glanced outside and was met with the sight of a well-dressed man standing confidently on Bella's doorstep.
Caroline strained to hear Bella's faint yet clear voice. "Hello, may I help you?" she offered, her tone steady despite the uncertainty.
The man replied smoothly, "Hello, is this the Swan residence?"
Bella maintained her composure, saying, "Technically, no, but I am Bella Swan."
With a glint of professionalism in his eyes, the man introduced himself as Steve Kingsley, John Gilbert's lawyer. He explained that he was there on John's behalf. Bella's tone shifted; an edge crept in as she demanded, "What seems to be the issue?"
Steve's expression softened slightly. "He wanted to give you something special for your birthday; this is your sweet sixteen, right?"
As Bella confirmed her birthday, curiosity piqued. Caroline heard the door click shut and couldn't help but peek through the window, but to her confusion, she saw no sign of either Bella or the man.
Just then, Elena and Bonnie strolled up to Caroline, the morning sun illuminating their worried expressions. "What are you doing?" Elena inquired, her voice laced with curiosity.
Caroline hesitated, weighing the risk of sharing the encounter. It could be nothing, but the potential danger to Bella loomed large in her mind.
Bella's unique scent was intoxicating, fierce as a drug to vampires, drawing them in with a thrill of danger. Finally, Caroline decided to reveal just the essential details.
"It's Bella's birthday."
Bonnie said, "Bella showed us a beautiful bracelet that her friend Jacob gave her last year.
Caroline raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where was i?"
Elena shot back, snarky, "You were with Damon."
Caroline couldn't help but remind them that it was also the anniversary of Bella's attack, a dark day that loomed over them, and just the day before was the anniversary of Mr. Tanner's death. Bonnie suggested inviting Bella to join them, but Elena shrugged dismissively.
"Do what you want," she said curtly.
That was all Caroline needed to hear.
Elena had made her choice, leaving Caroline with a sense of determination.
"Let's just go. I'll talk to her later," she decided, her spirit resolute as they prepared to leave.
Gran and I stood there, gazes fixed on the dark-haired man clad in a meticulously tailored gray suit. He had an air of quiet authority about him as he introduced himself.
"My name is Kingsley," he said, his tone measured.
I furrowed my brow, curiosity piqued. "What is this about?"
He regarded me steadily. "John wanted Bella to have something."
My heart raced. "Have what?"
With a practiced motion, he retrieved a sleek Malina envelope from the inner pocket of his waistcoat. "This."
I took the envelope, its crisp edges feeling foreign in my hands, and glanced over at Gran, who looked equally bewildered. "Open it, Bella," she urged, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Nervously, I peeled open the envelope, revealing another pristine white envelope tucked inside, my name written elegantly in cursive. As I examined it, Gran gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she exclaimed, "Oh my Lord! This is a check for fifteen thousand dollars!"
Turning to Gran in disbelief, I nearly stumbled at her words, my heart pounding as she handed me the check, the weight of it felt surreal.
"What?" I stammered, still trying to process what I was holding. I turned my incredulous gaze toward Kingsley. "He—how?"
"He figured you might want a new car, or perhaps it could go toward your college expenses," Kingsley explained, his expression impassive.
"But his—Elena and Jeremy—" I protested, my voice trailing off, my mind racing with questions.
"He had another lawyer handling matters for his niece and nephew," Kingsley stated matter-of-factly.
"Why did John leave me this?" I asked, the confusion swirling within me like a storm.
"Well, you'd know better than I." His tone was curt as he concluded, "Good day," before stepping back and leaving us in stunned silence, the weight of the check heavy in my hands and the mystery of it all hanging in the air.
Victoria couldn't help but marvel at how strikingly similar the Gilbert girl was to Katherine. She had often heard whispers among the other vampires, their voices thick with admiration and envy, about the girl's resemblance, but Victoria had only caught fleeting glimpses of her. The Salvatore brothers were always lurking nearby, ever the vigilant protectors, making it nearly impossible for her to approach the girl.
On the day Bella Swan fainted in the crowded hallway, Victoria experienced a whirlwind of emotions. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to scream at the Gilbert girl. The mere thought of Katherine sent a jolt of pain through her; Katherine was, after all, the reason her sister was dead. Could it be that the Gilbert girl was a descendant of Katherine, destined to repeat the same tragic legacy?
Victoria, James, and Laurent had been bound together since the 1840s—two centuries after she and Anne had first crossed paths with Katherine. Their obsession with Katherine had led them down a dark path, one that ultimately resulted in Anne's untimely death, but Victoria pushed those haunting memories aside for the moment.
The Gilbert girl seemed entranced by Bella Swan, making it harder for Victoria to isolate her. She rarely ventured out; when she did, it was always accompanied by a vampire or a wolf as an escort.
James, posing as an employee to get close to Bella, was proving to be both a help and a burden. His fixation on Bella was palpable; everyone desired her, but while Laurent and Victoria could exercise patience, James was too eager to make a move.
"I have her address. I can use my position to slip into her home unnoticed," he insisted, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
"She's too close to the sheriff—both in proximity and in influence," Victoria countered, her voice laden with concern.
"We just need to get her into my office," James pressed, his determination unwavering.
"Or we could arrange for Victoria to join one of her classes," Laurent suggested, turning his gaze toward her, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Which teachers do you share?"
"That would raise immediate suspicion—" Victoria began to protest but was quickly cut off.
"Victoria, you worry too much," James replied, exasperated.
"She was attacked by a vampire once before," Victoria reminded them, her voice sharper now. "And I can't help but think that vampires could be colluding with the police."
"Like who?" Laurent inquired, raising a brow.
"Perhaps that history teacher. Every time I see him, he sends chills down my spine."
The mere thought of him, with his penetrating gaze and air of authority, made Victoria feel uneasy. He and the Salvatore brothers seemed to envelop her in an aura of danger.
Danger! Danger! Danger! Her mind would scream, alerting her senses to flee. Yet, despite her instincts urging her to escape, she was outvoted.
"I'm sorry. Are you in the right class?" Mr. Saltzman asked, looking somewhat bemused as Victoria hurried into the classroom on Monday morning.
"I just transferred into your class," Victoria said with feigned politeness, her heart racing. "Dr. Francis—"
"Ah, Tori," he responded, a smile creeping onto his face.
"It's Victoria," she corrected with a thin smile, determined to assert her identity.
"The principal informed me about you," he continued, his voice slightly unnerved yet friendly, his cheeks tinged with a flush of warmth.
At that moment, a memory flickered in Victoria's mind—the image of James compelling the principal, bending him to their will.
It made her smile.
Saltzman cleared his throat, and she couldn't help but notice how he blushed; it was a detail she might find useful later.
"Class, this is Victoria Sage—"
Just then, a loud thud echoed through the doorway, startling Victoria. She turned to see Bella Swan standing frozen, like a deer caught in headlights.
"Miss Swan, you're late," Mr. Saltzman said, his tone stern yet somewhat forgiving.
Bella quickly maneuvered her way to her seat, squeezing between a blonde-haired girl and a dark-haired boy, who both seemed to regard her with concern and curiosity.
Victoria sat in the back of the room, positioning herself as a silent observer. She realized she could play the role of the new girl needing assistance, finding ways to edge closer to her target.
"No note passing in class, Miss Swan, Mr. Gilbert," Mr. Saltzman interrupted, his voice holding authority as he snatched a barely concealed note from Bella's desk.
The Gilbert boy appeared bewildered as Saltzman unfolded the letter, his brow furrowing in confusion.
The teacher scrutinized the note for a moment before shifting his gaze between Bella and Victoria. Clearing his throat, he returned to his desk, but it was evident that his attention oscillated between the two throughout the class.
As Bella kept her eyes glued to her paper, a palpable tension hung in the air, her heart racing like a drum. This unnerved
Victoria.
Did he know?
Had Bella let anything slip?
How was Bella aware of what was happening?
This was overwhelming, I thought.
The money, Elena, and now Victoria were all so much to take in.
I needed to focus on the positives.
After all, John Gilbert had handed me fifteen thousand dollars.
A rush of disbelief washed over me. Fifteen thousand dollars was an enormous sum.
I had been dwelling on it all day, my mind racing with possibilities.
"What are you going to do for your birthday?" Rosalie asked at lunch, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. Her question felt like a refreshing breeze on a stifling day.
We nestled in a quiet corner of the bustling cafeteria, a sanctuary away from the clamor of chatter; it was a typical Monday. "I was thinking about going to see my..." I paused,
trying to find the right words. "Uh, what do I call her?"
"What's her name?" Rosalie inquired, her brow slightly furrowed in curiosity.
"Margaret," I replied, the name rolling off my tongue with fondness and uncertainty.
"Then you're going to see Margaret," she confirmed, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
I felt a smile brighten my own face at the thought. "My bio mom wanted to name me after her."
"What did you call her before?" Rosalie pressed, her interest piqued.
"Mrs. Flemming," I said, recalling the formal title that seemed to distance me from the warmth of family.
"You called her that?" Rosalie asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Yeah, she wants me to meet her husband—my biological grandfather." The weight of those words settled heavily in the air between us.
"What does your grandmother think about it?" Rosalie asked softly.
"She supports any decision I make and won't stand in my way," I sighed, feeling gratitude and guilt. "But I can tell that the thought of me meeting him makes her uncomfortable."
"Why—" Rosalie began, but Jeremy slid into the seat beside me before she could finish.
"Happy birthday, Bella!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious.
Rosalie and I exchanged a knowing glance, then shifted our focus to him. "Thanks," I replied, trying to match his energy.
"What are you doing later?" he asked, leaning in slightly, an eager glint in his eyes.
"She has plans," Rosalie interjected while absentmindedly poking at her salad, clearly ready to defend my time.
Jeremy shot her an incredulous look, then redirected his attention to me. "What are you doing, Bella?"
"I'm hanging out with Margaret," I responded, my heart fluttering.
Jeremy turned back to Rosalie. "Could you please give Bella and me a minute?" His voice was low but firm.
Rosalie glared at him for a moment, her expression a mix of
annoyance and protectiveness, then stood up, her tray clattering softly against the table.
"You have exactly five minutes," she retorted before storming off.
"When did that start?" Jeremy asked, his brow slightly raised, a hint of confusion in his tone.
I glanced at my lunch—cold ravioli sitting forlornly on my plate. "What start?" I asked, trying to mask my discomfort.
"You and Rosalie," he clarified, his voice gentle as if he were prodding a bruise.
"She was a friend when everyone else pulled away from me," I admitted, feeling a rush of protective loyalty toward Rosalie.
I sensed Jeremy shift beside me as if weighing his following words carefully. "Bella," he said, his tone turning serious.
"Jeremy." I saw Bonnie standing before us, her expression sharp and ice-cold. "Bella," she reiterated, her voice almost an accusation.
I blinked, taken aback by the chill in her gaze.
Despite the recent chaos in my life, Bonnie had always shown me kindness.
Did she hold the same contempt for me now?
"Hi, Bonnie," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
As I stole a glance behind her, I caught Caroline and Elena watching us across the cafeteria—two hawks observing their prey.
"Jeremy, I need to talk to you," Bonnie said firmly, her eyes never leaving his.
"Alright." Jeremy stood, casting me a quick glance before heading towards Bonnie. "See you later, Bells," he called back, his tone light, but the weight of uncertainty hung in the air.
Caroline leaned against the lunch table, her gaze following Bonnie and Jeremy as they walked away. When she turned to Bella, she noticed that Bella was still absorbed in her food, her expression distant and uninviting. Caroline exchanged a worried glance with Elena, who intently watched Bella with a furrowed brow.
"How's the vampire training going?" Caroline asked, attempting to break the ice.
"Fine," Elena replied curtly, her eyes flicking back to Bella.
"Do you think Bella hates me for almost helping to kill her?" Caroline ventured, a hint of concern lacing her voice.
"No, if anything, she blames Damon," Elena said, her tone flat.
"Shouldn't she?" Caroline pressed, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
Suddenly, Elena turned to her, eyes alight with indignation. "She needs to let it go."
"How do you let that go?" Caroline shot back, her hands clenching in exasperation.
Elena scoffed, her attention drifting back to Bella, rising from her seat and approaching the trash can. With a loud clatter, Bella dumped her tray, then strode out of the cafeteria, head held high.
"When she and Rosalie were talking in the bathroom," Elena whispered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "she mentioned to Rosalie that she was an only child."
"Well, she is her parent's only child," Caroline noted, trying to highlight Bella's logic. "That was smart of her."
"Smart, how?" Elena inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Think about it," Caroline said, her voice firm. "She's already a target because of her unique scent, and if anyone were to discover she has blood ties to the doppelganger—"
"Blood ties to me!" Elena interrupted, her voice rising in alarm.
"What?!" Caroline exclaimed, taken aback.
"You said 'blood ties to the doppelganger!'" Elena snapped, her frustration palpable. "I am a living, breathing person, not just a hybrid maker!"
With that, Elena spun on her heel and stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving Caroline momentarily stunned.
"Mr. Saltzman was making eyes at the new girl," Rosalie murmured to me, her voice low and conspiratorial, as we stood outside the school, the crisp afternoon air swirling around us while we waited for our rides.
"I noticed," I replied, trying to keep my expression nonchalant.
My note had made sure that he would notice her, too.
As if she could sense my inner thoughts, Rosalie leaned closer and asked, "What did your note say?"
"I wanted to talk to Jeremy," I said, feeling a faint blush creeping up my cheeks.
"About?" she pressed, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, feeling a bit awkward. "I don't know, hanging out, I guess."
"Is that what you were discussing at lunch?" Rosalie tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes.
"No, Bonnie showed up," I said, recalling the moment vividly, "and he left with her."
"Oh. He does like them older," she remarked with a teasing grin. "Well, there's my ride."
"See you tomorrow," I called as she headed towards the car that had pulled up.
Rosalie had hardly stepped away from the parking lot when I suddenly heard a voice behind me.
"Happy birthday, Bella!"
Caroline's cheerful greeting startled me, causing me to jump and almost drop my bag.
"Caroline!" I gasped, catching my breath.
"Sorry," she said quickly, grabbing my bag just before it hit the ground. "Here."
I accepted my bag from her, feeling gratitude and
annoyance. "Thanks."
"Listen," Caroline sighed, a hint of concern in her tone, "I was just curious about what's going on in your life."
"Sure," I replied, trying to sound casual.
"We were wondering what she knows—"
"She knows nothing," I interjected firmly.
"Did you give her vervain?" Caroline asked, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
"Why on earth would you need to vervain her?" I shot back, feeling defensive.
"Uh, well," Caroline began hesitantly, "we—"
"You or Elena?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes slightly.
"Bella..." Caroline's tone took on a pleading quality.
"Keep Rosalie out of this," I demanded, the sharpness in my voice surprising even me. "And tell Elena to mind her own business."
"Okay, okay," Caroline said, raising her hands in surrender. "What are your plans for your birthday?"
"Gran and I are going to visit Margaret," I answered, feeling warm at the thought of spending the day with my grandmother.
"Who's that?" Caroline asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"Isobel's mother," I said, unable to hide my pride at knowing someone connected to the circle.
"You met Isobel's mother?" Elena's voice suddenly erupted from behind me, causing me to drop my bag again in surprise.
"Bella," Caroline muttered, her eyes wide.
"I thought we already had this conversation," I replied, annoyance creeping into my voice as I bent down to retrieve my bag again. "Thanks."
"You went to meet Isobel's mother without me?!" Elena exclaimed, incredulous.
"Yes," I responded, unable to resist a hint of defiance.
"I thought—"
"Thought what?" I scoffed, rifling through my bag for my iPod. "That I would wait until you decided you were ready to meet her? I've managed most of my life without your guidance, and I can handle this too. Besides, she doesn't have all the time in the world."
I plugged in my earphones and selected "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," zoning out the conversation as I focused on the soothing notes. I used every bit of willpower I had to ignore Elena until I finally spotted the familiar shape of the truck pulling into the lot.
I jumped into the passenger seat beside Gran, relieved to escape the confrontation. At the same time, through the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Elena, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief, pouting as the truck pulled away.
On her way to meet James, a conversation in Saltzman's class made Victoria stop dead in her tracks.
'A vampire?! Do you think she's with Rebekah and Klaus?'
Klaus?
Why did that name sound familiar?
'I don't know.'
'Is she a tomb vampire?' that sounded like Caroline Forbes.
What on earth was a tomb vampire?
'I don't know.'
'Could she be a vampire Klaus compelled to watch over me and Tyler?' that was Katherine- no- Elena Gilbert's voice.
Vampires can't compel other vampires.
'Stefan didn't mention it.'
'Maybe he was compelled not to.'
'Maybe he doesn't know; maybe she's supposed to be watching him.'
That was a male, Saltzman, maybe?
Or one of the salvatores...
But wait...
They're speaking about Stefan as if he isn't there...
Is he dead?
Or maybe just not there?
She needed to find James and Laurent.
After school, I took a moment to freshen up, washing away the day's weariness. Gran and I then set off, the sun beginning to dip on the horizon as we went to see Margaret.
I chose to wear a deep blue blouse that brought out the color of my eyes and a flowing khaki skirt that brushed against my ankles with each step. My white sneakers, comfortable and practical, carried me eagerly down the path.
As we walked, Gran suggested I might consider taking some money to hire a personal stylist to help me refine my look.
When we arrived, I noticed Margaret standing there, striking yet familiar. She was about my height, and her face and build closely resembled Isobel's. The only sign of her years was her hair, which had likely turned gray from the burden of grief over losing Isobel.
Margaret was adorned in a simple yet elegant white outfit, which contrasted beautifully with the color of her blue eyes that sparkled with recognition and warmth.
"Isabella," she gasped, clinging my hand tightly. "I'm so happy to see you."
"Hello, Margaret," I replied, feeling comfort and sadness.
I stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun and spotted Caroline chatting animatedly with Bella. Caroline's lips moved, likely wishing Bella a cheerful "Happy birthday!" In the background, a sleek red convertible sped away, revealing Rosalie seated in the back.
As I approached, I noticed Bella flinching and dropping her bag onto the pavement. It was bewildering how our lives were intertwined despite feeling so distant.
Their conversation appeared lively, and a nagging thought crossed my mind—were they discussing Isobel's mother? Before I could fully process my thoughts, my feet began to carry me toward them with purpose.
Bella caught my eye, and I noted that she was wearing a vibrant green shirt that made her stand out against the muted backdrop of the street.
"What are your plans for your birthday?" Caroline inquired, her voice warm and inviting.
Bella shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in her expression. "Gran and I are going to visit Margaret."
"Who's that?" Caroline asked, curiosity evident in her tone.
"Isobel's mother," Bella replied, a touch of pride in her voice.
"You met Isobel's mother?" I exclaimed, my voice echoing my shock.
Bella flinched once more, her bag hitting the ground again. "Bella," Caroline muttered, catching it mid-fall.
"I believe we've already had this conversation," Bella snapped, her patience clearly thin as Caroline handed her the bag again.
"You met her without me?!"
"Yes."
Given how persistently Bella had hounded me all summer about visiting Isobel's mother together, this revelation hit me like a cold splash of water.
"I thought—"
"Thought what?" she shot back, her tone flat as she rummaged through my bag, searching for something hidden inside. "That I would wait until you decided I was ready to meet her? I've lived most of my life without your guidance, and I can handle this alone. Besides, she doesn't have that kind of time."
"Well, considering how you were pestering me, I thought you needed a hand to hold," I retorted, my voice rising slightly. We fell into a tense silence before I asked, "What is she like?"
Her silence stretched uncomfortably; was she choosing to ignore me?
Caroline pointed at her ears, reminding me of the white iPod cradled in Bella's hand.
Unbelievable!
Bella was my sole source of answers about Isobel, yet here she was, deliberately keeping me in the dark!
The frustration bubbled within me, and I felt the urge to grab her and demand details, but just then, her grandmother's car pulled up.
"Can you believe her?!" I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of surprise and indignation.
"Yeah, I wouldn't peg her as a Neil Diamond fan—" Caroline replied, her eyebrow raised, shifting the topic.
"I'm talking about the fact that she didn't tell me she was going to see Isobel's mother!" I interjected, my irritation bubbling over.
"Okay..." Caroline said, shaking her head slightly, seemingly not grasping the depth of my feelings, or perhaps, under Bella's charm, she was just oblivious.
"She spent all summer driving me crazy about meeting Isobel's mother, only to ditch me at the last minute!" I fumed, my voice tinged with exasperation.
"I'm too exhausted worrying about my dad to untangle your mixed-up feelings for Bella right now, Elena," Caroline replied, rubbing her temples as if trying to alleviate a mounting headache.
"I don't have feelings for her!" I shot back, but the words felt hollow.
"Then why are you acting like this?!" she challenged, her voice rising in frustration. "Bella told you she was sick! I know because I was eavesdropping, and you slammed the door on her."
"She made it seem like she truly wanted me there," I exploded, wounded by her sudden indifference.
"She's not Jeremy; she doesn't need a big sister to guide her through life," Caroline responded, her voice softening as she returned to a more sympathetic tone. "When you grow up as an only child, you learn to be your own older siblings."
At that moment, I felt a deep loneliness wash over me. Bonnie wasn't much help either...
"I thought you wanted nothing to do with Isobel and her family," she remarked, her voice flat.
As for Alaric, he offered some support, mentioning he would reach out to Bella's grandmother to discuss the situation.
And Jeremy? He was my fiercest critic.
"Then why the hell did you refuse to go with her, Elena?!" he groaned, frustration spilling from his lips as he flipped
through the pages of John Gilbert's diary. "She even suggested that you go separately!"
"I don't want to go; I just want answers," I replied truthfully.
"Answers you would have gotten if you had just met her," he retorted.
Only Damon seemed to understand my plight.
"We can go see her whenever you want," he offered genuine support shining in his eyes.
"Let's go tomorrow," I said, the determination growing within me, fueled by the need for clarity and closure.