Yes, this certainly was a terrifying thing she was doing. In planning, there hadn't been a moment where she'd really gotten to stop and think about how entirely life-changing her actions truly were. Maybe if there had been, she wouldn't be sitting on the edge of a thin mattress in a different state, surrounded by four blank walls and one suffocatingly small window.
Getting a single room had been a blessing, but that didn't make it a good room by any means. It was a small, cold rectangle with a bed shoved into the corner and a desk under the window. There was a closet with a rack and a set of dresser drawers that were badly scuffed.
It was certainly a downgrade from her luxurious bedroom at home, but the door would never be locked from the outside, and that was heaps and bounds better than a plush mattress.
Elena's dorm was the first on the right on the third floor of a short brick building she'd later hear other students call "the Mac." In full, it was the McKinley Building, drafty, poorly built, and hers.
Thankfully, she was close to one of the shared bathrooms. There was one per floor shared with the six or so occupants, identically tiled floor to ceiling. Several stalls lined the back wall, and on each side, there were three shower stalls with only curtains for doors. This was an unforeseen circumstance. She hadn't even thought to worry about the idea of a communal bathroom.
Not wanting to add another worry to her ever-growing list, she instead quickly assessed her disguise in one of the mirrors. It wasn't… bad. She'd seen various men milling throughout the halls, engaged in conversation with one another. They wore similar clothes and spoke in a similar tone to her brother.
Plus, men were stupid in this regard. That was really the crux of the plan. To be fooled by a woman, such as Elena, was a low they didn't even consider a possibility. For what would that say about their intelligence? To be fooled by someone they personally felt was lesser? That made it feel even better.
Upon satisfaction with her appearance, she stepped out of the McKinley building and into the sunshine. Her travels had been a blur, at best, and she hadn't taken the time to appreciate the beauty of Harmon College until now.
Harmon College was a small liberal arts college in Harmon, Vermont. It was a fantastical place that seemed out of a book. It wasn't Oxford or Harvard or Cambridge, or any of the schools she'd heard discussed with awe and pride—Jeremy wasn't that suitable a subject, after all. It might as well have been Oxford, as it was in all measures, better than anything she ever could have dreamed.
There was a magical aura about the place that settled on the treetops and over the buildings. Maybe it was just the air of being somewhere new—which in itself felt magical.
And sure, was it excessive to say that Elena was transfixed? Maybe. But she was. It truly was a sight to behold. The Mac was across from a large U-shaped Victorian building with a clock tower that stretched high into the sky. It was an ornamental building with sharp, decorative trim and pitched roofs. If she squinted, she could pretend it was a castle.
The campus was littered with other equally beautiful buildings, with curving stone pathways connecting them. Beyond the stone grew the greenest grass she'd ever seen, dotted with students. Scholars. Like her.
As she walked, she was struck again with the reality of the situation. This really was everything she had wanted, wasn't it? The sprawling campus, the green-grass quad lined with flowers, trees everywhere on the brink of turning orange, and endless knowledge. And while she was, of course, enthused beyond imagination, there was another part of her that felt… hollow.
The most exciting moment of her life, but no one to share it with. Jeremy hundreds of miles away who even knows where, and Elena was surrounded on all sides with unfamiliarity. She was used to feeling alone. She was used to keeping herself company, but at least at home, she'd had the comfort of her room and the knowledge that Jeremy was never too far away.
However, she wasn't about to let that shred of doubt be anything more. Despite her clenched fists, the anxiety roiling through her
at the idea of talking to anyone, she would make the most of this. She would make friends once classes started and everything would be fine. It was just first-day jitters, really.
That first walk around campus would stick with her for years to come. This was not a space made for people like Elena Gilbert, but despite that, despite everything that had led to her arrival, she felt Harmon College claim her. It said, "Yes, you belong here." It said, "Yes, This is everything you've been looking for." It said, "Welcome."
In the few days before classes started, Elena existed in a liminal space. While she very much believed herself to be someone with gusto, she couldn't strike up the nerve to talk to anyone, and in turn, no one talked to her either. This wasn't ladies gossiping around tea. This was other scholars. What if they found her boring, or worse, unintelligent?
By the first day of classes, she woke up gnawing at the bit to get going. She showed up to her first class nearly twenty minutes early and before anyone else. The door was locked, so she sat on a bench in the hall with her books clutched tight to her chest.
Her first class was mathematics, and though the teacher was a bore and the subject matter was easy, it was thrilling to sit in a classroom with other students. It was a small room, with only about 15 other students. The desks were all crammed together facing a chalkboard that the stuffy professor worked through problems on for a good part of the section.
After mathematics, she had Theology across campus. Then, Astronomy and Physics in the afternoon. Physics was the only thing that held her attention that day. For the most part, she found her classes unexciting and repetitive. It felt basic and boring in regard to everything she'd learned thus far.
At the end of her very long day in which she'd still hardly spoken a word to anyone, she passed out atop her made bed. The next day, however, she awoke with the same voracious attitude.
Her first class was history, which finally had a teacher who spoke with some inflection. She was asked to introduce herself for the first time, to which she almost ruined her whole plan by calling herself Elena. Thankfully, everyone else was so absorbed in themselves and their own planned introductions, that no one seemed to notice.
By the time she sat down for Ancient Greek, she was too tired to be excited. Never in her life had she gotten so much physical exercise and fresh air in so many days.
The Ancient Greek classroom was small and dark, with couches and comfortable chairs arranged in a semi-circle. It was very much unlike any of the other classrooms she'd seen so far. Where other rooms had been overly bright and orderly, this one was dark, with walls covered in paintings and maps and books everywhere.
"Welcome, welcome. I hope we all had a splendid summer holiday. Saw our families, embarked on expeditions worth writing about, etcetera." His eyes scanned the room and spotted Elena, who had tucked herself into the back corner as if to be as unnoticed as possible. She found it easiest to observe first, to watch everyone in action before inserting herself into the conversation. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get away with that this time. Not in this class.
The professor, Dr. Bartlow, as noted on the chalkboard behind him, was stocky with a wide face and unkempt beard. "Ah yes, you must be Jeremy Gilbert."
At that moment, the rest of the students in the room, only four, which seemed like a lot at the time, turned to look her dead in the eyes.
"Well don't act like you've never seen a new student before. Sorry about their poor manners, Mr. Gilbert, this group has been together for two school years now, and I didn't tell them about your late addition."
That was curious. Immediately, she had many questions about the nature of the classes she'd been placed in.
"Well, I'm happy to be here, sir," Elena said, speaking in as low an octave as she could without straining her voice and still making it as believable as possible.
"Yes, I hoped you would be. The department was mystified by your application and delighted with your views on Homer. Along with the translations you provided, we simply had to extend the invitation."
Nothing in her acceptance letter had she been informed about her acceptance into this seemingly exclusive group. She had thought it to be just another class, but maybe that wasn't the case.
One student, in particular, was staring at her with a level of malice she had not yet experienced at Harmon.
"You should feel honored, in fact. It's not often that we allow first-year students into such an advanced class," Dr. Bartlow continued in the background, but Elena could barely focus with the way he looked at her.
He sat on a couch across the room with one leg crossed over the other, a book in his lap that she couldn't see the title of, and his eyes pinned on her. He was large, taller than anyone else in the room. His presence loomed. Not over her exactly, for they say on separate sides of the classroom, but over the room entirely. Just as the campus felt magical, so did he feel dark.
Not only was he tall, but his shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular. She could see the faint curves of his muscles through his deep red sweater.
She was properly accessing him, looking at the clothes he was wearing, the shape of his shoulders, his nearly perfect but slightly unkempt hair, the straight line of his mouth. He, in turn, didn't study her at all, but simply waver stared at her stock still, like he was preparing for her to make a sudden move.
Elena felt that that moment lasted a lifetime, though it was probably only a few seconds before Dr. Bartlow clapped his hands together and said, "Anyway." He held up a hand in the direction of two students on the couch closest to her. "This is James," he pointed at the first of two very similar-looking boys. "And John Mercury." They both had sandy, almost dirty-looking blond hair and unremarkable features. James wore glasses and the other twin did not. The other twin, John, had curlier, messier hair and an air of mischief that was absent from James.
Bartlow moved on. "This is Marcus Wicklaw." A scrawny kid with auburn hair and a crooked smile. Long, thin hair tied in a low knot at the back of his neck. "And this," he motioned to the man who still hadn't stopped looking at her. "Damon Salvatore."
"Now, I know we're all eager to get started on our studies for the year," Dr. Bartlow said, "But I have to of course, introduce this year's incentive."
Elena drew her eyebrows together. She always liked a challenge. Though most of her experience was only in inconsequential competitions with Jeremy. Of which she always won.
"Now you lot know that I love a little friendly competition, and this year's is juicier than most." He picked up a thick envelope from his desk. Elena must have been missing something because the other students shared in a collective gasp and sat slightly more upright. Damon, however, remained uninterested. At least his eyes had finally left her.
"Ah, you're familiar?" He smiled as he waved the envelope around. It was a creamy card stock envelope embossed with a deep red crest of some kind. A crown maybe? A wine glass? "Great Minds of Harmon, for those who aren't familiar, is an elite society of local greats. Poets, authors, performers, politicians, historians, scientists. They admit very few new members each year and all must be deemed worthy of such admittance of course.
"It's all very mysterious of course, but I've been told that this folder contains the first of many clues that will lead one lucky gentleman to the meeting place of this salacious secret society."
In that moment, Elena's future was laid out before her in very easy-to-follow steps.
1. Win the competition.
2. Prosper.
However, her dreams of victory were quickly interrupted by Marcus who groaned. "We all already know it's just going to go to Salvatore. He wins every year. Last year he got to assist Dr. Bartlow with an official translation."
Damon, who had been tight-lipped from the start of class, let a slight smirk slide. Oh, how Elena was eager to give him a good challenge. He always wins? She would have to see it to that that didn't happen, maybe ever again.
"Ah but a new challenger has appeared, and you never know what may happen." Dr. Bartlow dramatically pinned the folder to a corkboard at the front of the room. "Whoever's at the top of the class by the end of the year will be one step closer to what I know you all crave."
He didn't have to finish the thought. Elena knew what she craved. Knowledge. Acceptance. A community. Yes, she would have to work very hard for this indeed.
Thankfully, Elena managed to slip out of the classroom at the end of the lecture without having to meet Damon Salvatore's icy gaze again.
Unfortunately, when she stepped into her next classroom, prepared to absorb Literature for everything it was worth, she was met again with those cold blue eyes. This time, he sat at a table in the back of the classroom, at which the only other free seat remained. Class hadn't started quite yet, and she was dreading the thick silence as she passed by him to sit on his other side.
For a second, she thought she might curtsy, and wouldn't that just be a hilarious joke for everyone involved? Thankfully, she did not curtsy and instead took a seat like a completely normal lad.
"Gilbert." He didn't look in her direction at all this time, but instead faced forward and offered her a slight nod. The audacity!
"Mr. Salvatore." She offered him the same acknowledgment, but couldn't restrain herself from glancing to her left to look at him.
"I'm looking forward to crushing any hope you have of joining the society this year, Gilbert."
She chortled at this, "Well then I do hope you like being surprised."