by L. J. Smith
Damon glanced at them, his face taking on the thoughtful look she associated with him using his Power. “A couple of all-American meatheads,” he said dismissively. “Nothing special about them.”
“I know,” Elena said. “I need them to fight. It has to be bad enough to get them kicked off the team.”
Damon’s eyebrows rose. “You’re more bloodthirsty than I’d realized, Princess,” he said.
“I need them to get suspended. They can’t be at the dance tomorrow,” Elena told him. The kicker was moving back, his teammates lined up on either side. “Please, Damon,” she said.
Damon leaned back and smiled lazily at her. “Why should I?” His eyes were locked on hers, challenging her. “What will you give me?”
“Anything you want,” Elena said recklessly. “I trust you. Just do it.”
Damon’s smile widened, and he flicked his eyes back toward the field. The kicker’s foot made contact with the ball, and it flew in a high arc through the air.
With a shout of fury, Tyler Smallwood launched himself across the field and tackled Dick Carter to the ground.
The stands broke out in screaming excitement. Tyler was punching Dick in the stomach, avoiding his pads to reach the flesh beneath. Dick bucked and rolled, and Tyler hit the ground with a thud.
“Good enough?” Damon asked.
Down on the field, the referees were blowing hard on their whistles and running toward the fight. Both boys had pulled off their helmets, and, as Elena watched, Dick punched Tyler hard in the nose. Bright blood gushed out, drops spilling onto the grass of the football field.
“That should do it,” Elena said, feeling a little sick. But this was necessary. If Tyler and Dick went to the dance, if they left the dance and went to the graveyard, terrible things would happen.
This was the better option.
The coaches were shouting as the other players tried unsuccessfully to pull Dick and Tyler apart. Tyler lunged forward and sank his teeth into Dick’s arm. There was more blood, running over Tyler’s mouth. Damon was watching, his face lit with pleasure.
“Damon!” Elena said sharply. “That’s enough!”
“Killjoy,” Damon muttered, but he glared at the fighting boys, and they stilled, then pulled away from each other. Matt and one of the running backs were holding onto them, tugging them farther apart. Both boys looked dazed, and Tyler wiped at his mouth, smearing dark red blood across his face.
A chill spread through Elena. The pleasure Damon took in watching the guys fight was something she hadn’t seen in years. As comfortable as she felt with him, she still needed to be careful.
Down on the field, Stefan was paying no attention to the aftermath of the fight going on all around him. Instead, he was scanning the stands, his eyes narrowed. He must be looking for Damon, Elena realized. Of course Stefan would suspect Damon was behind the fight.
Before Stefan could spot them, the referees called the teams back into place. Two second-string players ran out to take Tyler and Dick’s places, and the game began at last.
Elena was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. She had been to football games before, of course she had. But usually, what was going on in the stands had interested her more than what might be happening on the field. Even when she was dating Matt, she hadn’t really watched him play.
He was really good. Matt and Stefan made an incredible team, but Stefan had the strength, speed, and reflexes of a vampire. Matt was managing on pure skill. Calm and confident, he called the plays, his eyes scanning the field. He ran like the wind, and when he passed the ball downfield, it was in a long spiraling arc that landed safely in Stefan’s hands. No wonder he had been—was going to be—offered football scholarships.
Damon watched the crowd far more than he did the game, although his eyes regularly flitted back to Stefan. When he looked at his brother, he wore an expression that Elena couldn’t quite decipher. Was this hostile face the one Damon had worn all those centuries, as he kept a distant eye on his little brother, his enemy?
At halftime, Damon bought Elena a cup of hot chocolate.
“Thank you,” she said, pleased at his thoughtfulness, and wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the cup. It was getting chilly. Fall had really set in now.
“May I?” Damon asked politely, after he’d watched her take a sip. She handed over the hot chocolate, and he drank slowly, savoring. “Very nice,” he said. “Sweet.” His fingers lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary as he passed the cup back to her. Damon’s words were innocent enough, but there was something darkly teasing in his gaze. Attraction hummed between them. Maybe he wasn’t her Damon yet, but he would be.
When they got back to Elena’s house after the game, the driveway was empty.
“Aunt Judith must have taken Margaret somewhere,” Elena told Damon.
Damon tipped his head slightly to one side, clearly sending out his Power to search the house. “There’s no one home.”
“Mmmhmm.” Elena unlocked the door and stepped inside. Damon waited on the porch, his hands in his jacket pockets, casual and confident. Elena didn’t hesitate. If she wanted Damon to be trustworthy, first she had to trust him. “You can come in if you want,” she said. “The invitation still stands.”
“If you want me,” Damon said cooly, but there was a pleased tilt to his mouth as he followed her in.
Elena led Damon through the house. In the hall, he paused, running his fingers across the photographs on the side table. “Your mother?” he asked, picking one up to look at it more closely.
Elena nodded, her throat tight. Damon kept touching things as he followed her through the house, brushing his fingers over the furniture and opening drawers to look inside. Up in her room, he prowled like a cat, inspecting the books on Elena’s bookcase, rifling through the clothes in her closet, delicately rearranging the objects on her dresser. It was as if he was trying to figure her out.
Finally, he put down her silver comb and turned to look at her. “Why did you want them to fight?” he asked, his voice dry. “It’s not for love, is it?”
Elena laughed in spite of herself. “Tyler or Dick? Absolutely not.” Sobering, she added, “I know something terrible would have happened tomorrow if they hadn’t been suspended. I can’t explain any more. I’m sorry.”
Damon stepped closer and brought his hands up to frame her face. His eyes, so dark that she couldn’t distinguish the iris from the pupil, stared into hers. Electricity shot through her at the careful touch of Damon’s hands on her face. He was trying to use his Power to read her, she could tell.
“You’re not a witch,” he said, confidently. “Or a psychic.”
Elena reached up and took his cool hands in hers. “Like I told you, I’m just a girl who knows some things. I’m nothing special.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Damon said, turning his palm so that his fingers were interlaced with hers. His eyes followed the line of the vein in her neck, all the way down to the collar of her shirt. “You promised me anything I wanted,” he said.
He expected her to pull away, to be afraid, Elena knew. Instead, she brushed her hair back, cocking her head to expose the smooth line of her throat. “I trust you,” she said simply.
Damon stared for a moment, then pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, and kissed her throat. Beneath the softness of his lips, his sharp canines pricked her, and she pressed closer still. Yes.
When his teeth slid smoothly beneath her skin, she could feel Damon with her at last: all his anger and loneliness, that lost child she knew hid beneath his cold façade. And, deeper still, passion. Love that never ended, a burning fire that could never be extinguished.
Their minds intertwined, and Elena stifled a sob of pure joy. Damon was hers again. They were both going to live.
#TVD13LovingDelena
“They were both amazing,” Bonnie said from the window seat. She was already wearing her fluffy pink dress, her bouncy curls perfectly smooth.
“Who?” Elena murmured as Meredith twisted a long strand of her hair and secured it with a bobby pin.
“Matt and Stefan,” Bonnie said. “When Stefan caught that last pass, I thought I was going to faint. Or throw up.”
“Oh, please,” said Meredith.
Vickie Bennett, carefully ringing her eyes with liner in front of the mirror, giggled nervously. She’d been thrilled when Elena invited her to join them in getting ready for the dance, but she seemed hesitant and unsure now that she was there. As Elena watched, Vickie glanced quickly at her, then looked away, her free hand twisting the hem of her dress.
“And Matt—that boy is simply poetry in motion …” Bonnie wriggled around on the seat to fix a bright eye on Elena. “You could have gotten either of them to take you, you know. Matt’s still crazy about you. And he’s a sweetheart. Plus, I saw Stefan’s face after Damon brought you to school. He practically swallowed his tongue, he was so upset.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elena said. “I’m with Damon.”
“Then why isn’t he bringing you to the dance?” Meredith asked, her talented fingers twining more of Elena’s hair into an elegant golden mass. “Even if he doesn’t like dances, he should have come if you wanted him to.”
“But I didn’t want him to,” Elena said, laughing and catching Meredith’s hand as she tweaked another strand of Elena’s hair into place. “I wanted to go with you guys.”
Bonnie sat up straighter, her small face growing serious. “I’m glad you did, Elena,” she said. “Remember how I saw in your palm that you had two loves? I think … I think something bad might happen if you aren’t careful.”
Meredith huffed out an exasperated breath. “Bonnie—”
“I just mean,” Bonnie said, “that if she wants Damon, it doesn’t matter that Matt and Stefan like her. That’s all. Two loves aren’t necessarily better than one. You need to be careful, Elena.”
“And you should leave some guys for the rest of us,” Meredith said lightly. Bonnie laughed and looked away, but Elena shifted uneasily under Meredith’s hands. How much of the future could Bonnie see? And which future was it?
It didn’t matter. Elena knew what would happen tonight. Caroline and Stefan would be at the dance together. Elena would leave them alone this time. She wouldn’t ask Stefan to dance. Caroline, Elena thought, would have a perfectly nice time. There wasn’t going to be a second love for Elena this time. Whatever Bonnie saw, it wasn’t going to happen.
“It’s fun to go with just girls, anyway,” Meredith said. “You were right, Elena.”
“Sure,” Bonnie said, rolling her eyes. “Guys: Who needs them?”
Vickie turned away from the mirror to face them and said, in an awkward rush, “Thanks for inviting me to come with you. I probably wouldn’t have gone at all otherwise.”
“What happened with Dick and Tyler, anyway?” Bonnie asked curiously. “Did Dick tell you what they were fighting about?”
Vickie spread her hands wide, shrugging in amazement. “All Dick is said was that suddenly he was so angry he couldn’t even see straight. The next thing he knew, everybody was pulling him and Tyler apart.”
Meredith frowned. “They don’t take steroids, do they?”
“No! I don’t think so.” Vickie was shaking her head, but a shadow of doubt crept into her voice.
Again, Elena felt a flicker of guilt. She remembered the way Dick’s head had snapped backward when Tyler punched him in the mouth, the dazed expressions on both their faces when the other players had finally pulled them apart.
But worse things would have happened if they had gone to the church that night. Stefan had almost killed Dick and Tyler after Elena drowned. Vickie had been gruesomely murdered. The memory of Vickie’s room, painted in blood, made Elena’s stomach turn over.
What were a few rumors or a suspension to that?
“There,” Meredith slid the last bobby pin into Elena’s hair. “Gorgeous.”
Elena stood and pulled her friends close so that they could all look in the mirror. Bonnie, her curls falling over her shoulders, was as sweet as candy in her shimmering pink taffeta. Meredith’s hair was swept up into an elegant chignon, and the long sweep of silver silk falling almost to her feet made her seem a thousand times more sophisticated than she’d ever seemed before. Even Vickie, in a soft green dress that came to her knees and ended in a puff of lace, looked fresh and delicate despite her nervousness.
As for herself, Elena thought, standing straight and tall in the crimson dress, she looked like a burning flame. She looked like she could set the world on fire.
They walked down the stairs together to where Aunt Judith and her fiancé, Robert, waited, along with pajama-clad Margaret. Margaret jumped to her feet and came to hug Elena around the waist. Elena bent down and kissed her little sister on the forehead.
Aunt Judith blinked when she saw Elena. “You girls all look lovely,” she said slowly. “That’s certainly a … dramatic dress, dear.”
“You’re pretty,” Margaret said, beaming up at Elena, and Elena gave her a squeeze.
“Runs in the family,” she whispered, and her little sister giggled.
Robert was staring at Elena, looking a little dazed.
“What’s the matter, Bob?” Aunt Judith asked.
“Oh.” He frowned and passed a hand across his forehead. “Actually, it just occurred to me that Elena is a form of the name Helen. And for some reason I was thinking of Helen of Troy.”
“Beautiful and doomed,” said Bonnie. Her eyes met Elena’s for a second, before she quickly looked away.
“Well, yes,” said Robert.
A chill went up Elena’s spine. She wasn’t doomed, she told herself fiercely. Not this time. There was nothing to worry about. “We have to go,” she said quickly, and kissed Aunt Judith good-bye. “Don’t wait up.”
They all rode to the dance together in Meredith’s car, Elena in the front passenger seat, Bonnie and Vickie in the back. Meredith and Vickie were laughing and chattering, and Elena tried to join in.
But Bonnie was oddly quiet, and when Elena looked into the backseat, the other girl’s brown eyes were fixed on her thoughtfully. Elena couldn’t escape the heavy, anxious feeling that something important, something terrible, was about to happen.
No, she told herself. It’s just a high school dance. I’m only afraid because of what happened the first time. Everything is different now. But the thoughts didn’t lighten the sickening feeling of dread at the bottom of Elena’s stomach.
She almost leaned over and asked Meredith to take her home. She could have given some excuse, said she felt ill—it wouldn’t even have been a lie. But she was Elena Gilbert, and she did not back down. She would hold her head high and enjoy this last dance. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Music spilled out the open doors of the auditorium as they arrived. Inside, the cavernous room was a swirling mass of people, laughter, and voices. The decoration committee had draped the walls in long swathes of sheer fabric that shone gently in the light, transforming the whole auditorium into something from a dream. In the center of everything, resplendent in gold, was Caroline.
“Look at that dress,” Bonnie said, softly. “What’s the front held on with? Superglue?”
The dazzling dress, made of gold lamé and fitting like a second skin, certainly showed a lot of Caroline. She looked beautiful and wild, her glossy auburn hair streaming down her back as she laughed. Her long limbs were smooth and tanned, and her cat-green eyes shone. Caroline was clearly having a wonderful time.
Elena looked for Stefan beside Caroline, but she couldn’t spot him. The crowd around Caroline was constantly shifting. People came up to speak to her briefly, admiringly, like courtiers to a queen, and then stepped back to make room for the next in line.
“Born to rule, apparently,” Meredith said, sounding amused.
Elena kept moving toward Caroline, scanning the changing crowd around her. Stefan had to be there somewhere. Elena wouldn’t
speak to him, wouldn’t touch him, but she wanted to see him. She could have that at least, surely?
As a couple of cheerleaders stepped aside, Elena saw Caroline’s date at last and stopped short for a second in surprise.
Not Stefan at all. Matt. His hand was resting lightly on Caroline’s arm as he stood beside her, prince consort to the queen, but his eyes were fixed on Elena, his jaw set defiantly.
Elena held her head high and started walking toward them again, fixing a smile on her face. She didn’t own Matt. She’d prepared herself, she thought, to see Stefan with Caroline. She wasn’t ready, though, for the sharp sense of loss at seeing Matt with her instead. Elena hadn’t quite realized how much she thought of Matt as belonging to her, at least in this time. Beyond her feeling possessive of him, Caroline couldn’t possibly be good for Matt.
Vickie had wandered off toward the refreshment table, and Meredith and Bonnie, one after the other, were asked to dance and went off onto the dance floor.
“Hey, Elena. Want to dance?” It was her lab partner, a tall, gangly guy with a wicked sense of humor who normally she’d have enjoyed dancing with. But Elena just shook her head, barely glancing at him.
“Not yet,” she said shortly. “I need to talk to somebody. I’ll catch up with you later.”
As Elena reached the outskirts of the group around her, Caroline looked up and their eyes met. Elena smiled, but Caroline just gazed at her. And then she smiled, and, turning toward Matt, tipped her face up to his and kissed him, a long passionate kiss.
Elena felt her own face drawing into a scowl and consciously smoothed it over, fixing a neutral, almost bored expression in its place.
“Hello, Elena,” Caroline drawled, as soon as the kiss ended. “Don’t you look”—her eyes flicked over the crimson dress—“nice. It’s so original of you to wear that shade of red with your complexion. A lot of people would worry about looking washed out.”
