Lisa Smith - The Struggle

“But why? What are you—”

“Move, chick. If anybody comes through that door we’re holding you responsible.”

When the door was closed again, they rounded on Elena.

“Okay, this is a stickup,” said Meredith. “Come on, Elena, give.”

Elena ripped the last tiny shred of paper, caught between laughter and tears. She wanted to tell them everything, but she couldn’t. She settled for telling them about the diary.

They were as angry, as indignant, as she was.

“It had to be someone at the party,” Meredith said at last, once they had each expressed their opinion of the thief’s character, morals, and probable destination in the afterlife. “But anybody there could have done it. I don’t remember anyone in particular going near your purse, but that room was wall-to-wall people, and it could have happened without my noticing.”

“But why would anyone want to do this?” Bonnie put in. “Unless… Elena, the night we found Stefan you were hinting around at some things. You said you thought you knew who the killer was.”

“I don’t think I know; I know . But if you’re wondering if this might be connected, I’m not sure. I suppose it could be. The same person might have done it.”

Bonnie was horrified. “But that means the killer is a student at this school!” When Elena shook her head, she went on. “The only people at that party who weren’t students were that new guy and Alaric.” Her expression changed. “Alaric didn’t kill Mr. Tanner! He wasn’t even in Fell’s Church then.”

“I know. Alaric didn’t do it.” She’d gone too far to stop now; Bonnie and Meredith already knew too much. “Damon did.”

“That guy was the killer ? The guy that kissed me?”

“Bonnie, calm down.” As always, other people’s hysteria made Elena feel more in control. “Yes, he’s the killer, and we all three have to be on guard against him. That’s why I’m telling you. Never, never ask him into your house.”

Elena stopped, regarding the faces of her friends. They were staring at her, and for a moment she had the sickening feeling that they didn’t believe her. That they were going to question her sanity.

But all Meredith asked, in an even, detached voice, was: “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I’m sure. He’s the murderer and the one who put Stefan in the well, and he might be after one of us next. And I don’t know if there’s any way to stop him.”

“Well, then,” said Meredith, lifting her eyebrows. “No wonder you and Stefan were in such a hurry to leave the party.”

Caroline gave Elena a vicious smirk as Elena walked into the cafeteria. But Elena was almost beyond noticing.

One thing she noticed right away, though. Vickie Bennett was there.

Vickie hadn’t been to school since the night Matt and Bonnie and Meredith had found her wandering on the road, raving about mist and eyes and something terrible in the graveyard. The doctors who checked her afterward said there was nothing much wrong with her physically, but she still hadn’t returned to Robert E. Lee. People whispered about psychologists and the drug treatments they were trying.

She didn’t look crazy, though, Elena thought. She looked pale and subdued and sort of crumpled into her clothing. And when Elena passed her and she looked up, her eyes were like a startled fawn’s.

It was strange to sit at a half-empty table with only Bonnie and Meredith for company. Usually people were crowding to get seats around the three of them.

“We didn’t finish talking this morning,” Meredith said. “Get something to eat, and then we’ll figure out what to do about those notes.”

“I’m not hungry,” said Elena flatly. “And what can we do? If it’s Damon, there’s no way we can stop him. Trust me, it’s not a matter for the police. That’s why I haven’t told them he’s the killer. There isn’t any proof, and besides, they would never… Bonnie, you’re not listening.”

“Sorry,” said Bonnie, who was staring past Elena’s left ear. “But something weird is going on up there.”

Elena turned. Vickie Bennett was standing at the front of the cafeteria, but she no longer seemed crumpled and subdued. She was looking around the room in a sly and assessing manner, smiling.

“Well, she doesn’t look normal, but I wouldn’t say she was being weird , exactly,” Meredith said. Then she added, “Wait a minute.”

Vickie was unbuttoning her cardigan. But it was the way she was doing it—with deliberate little flicks of her fingers, all the while looking around with that secretive smile— that was odd. When the last button was undone, she took the sweater daintily between forefinger and thumb and slid it down over first one arm and then the other. She dropped the sweater on the floor.

“Weird is the word,” confirmed Meredith.

Students crossing in front of Vickie with laden trays glanced at her curiously and then looked back over their shoulders when they had passed. They didn’t actually stop walking, though, until she took off her shoes.

She did it gracefully, catching the heel of one pump on the toe of the other and pushing it off. Then she kicked off the second pump.

“She can’t keep going,” murmured Bonnie, as Vickie’s fingers moved to the simulated pearl buttons on her white silk blouse.

Heads were turning; people were poking one another and gesturing. Around Vickie a small group had gathered, standing far enough back that they didn’t interfere with everyone else’s view.

The white silk blouse rippled off, fluttering like a wounded ghost to the floor. Vickie was wearing a lacy off-white slip underneath.

There was no longer any sound in the cafeteria except the sibilance of whispers. No one was eating. The group around Vickie had gotten larger.

Vickie smiled demurely and began to unfasten clasps at her waist. Her pleated skirt fell to the floor. She stepped out of it and pushed it to one side with her foot.

Somebody stood up at the back of the cafeteria and chanted, “Take it off! Take it off!” Other voices joined in.

“Isn’t anybody going to stop her?” fumed Bonnie.

Elena got up. The last time she’d gone near Vickie the other girl had screamed and struck out at her. But now, as she got close, Vickie gave her the smile of a conspirator. Her lips moved, but Elena couldn’t make out what she was saying over the chanting.

“Come on, Vickie. Let’s go,” she said.

Vickie’s light brown hair tossed and she plucked at the strap of her slip.

Elena stooped to pick up the cardigan and wrap it around the girl’s slender shoulders. As she did, as she touched Vickie, those half-closed eyes opened wide like a startled fawn’s again. Vickie stared about her wildly, as if she’d just been awakened from a dream. She looked down at herself and her expression turned to disbelief. Pulling the cardigan around her more tightly, she backed away, shivering.

The room was quiet again.

“It’s okay,” said Elena soothingly. “Come on.”

At the sound of her voice, Vickie jumped as if touched by a live wire. She stared at Elena, and then she exploded into action.

“You’re one of them! I saw you! You’re evil!”

She turned and ran barefoot out of the cafeteria, leaving Elena stunned.

“Do you know what’s strange about what Vickie did at school? I mean aside from all the obvious things,” Bonnie said, licking chocolate frosting off her fingers.

“What?” said Elena dully.

“Well, the way she ended up, in her slip. She looked just like she did when we found her on the road, only then she was all scratched up, too.”