Lisa Smith - The Awakening

World-class jerks, thought Elena. Fuming, she glared at them over Stefan’s shoulder.

They were enjoying the game, slouching in the doorway, pretending they were completely blind to Stefan standing there.

“Excuse me.” It was the same tone he’d used with the history teacher. Quiet, detached.

Dick and Tyler looked at each other, then all around, as if hearing spirit voices.

“Scoozi?” Tyler said in a falsetto. “Scoozi me? Me scoozi? Jacuzzi?” They both laughed.

Elena watched muscles tighten under the T-shirt in front of her. This was completely unfair; they were both taller than Stefan, and Tyler was about twice as broad.

“Is there a problem here?” Elena was as startled as the boys were at the new voice behind her. She turned to see Matt. His blue eyes were hard.

Elena bit her lips on a smile as Tyler and Dick moved slowly, resentfully out of the way. Good old Matt, she thought. But now good old Matt was walking into class beside Stefan, and she was left following them, staring at the backs of two T-shirts. When they sat down, she slid into the desk behind Stefan, where she could watch him without being watched herself. Her plan would have to wait until after class.

Matt was rattling change in his pocket, which meant he wanted to say something.

“Uh, hey,” he began at last, uncomfortably. “Those guys, you know…”

Stefan laughed. It was a bitter sound. “Who am I to judge?” There was more emotion in his voice than Elena had heard before, even when he had spoken to Mr. Tanner. And that emotion was raw unhappiness. “Anyway, why should I be welcome here?” he finished, almost to himself.

“Why shouldn’t you be?” Matt had been staring at Stefan; now his jaw squared with decision.

“Listen,” he said. “You were talking about football yesterday. Well, our star wide receiver tore a ligament yesterday afternoon, and we need a replacement. Tryouts are this afternoon. What do you think?”

“Me?” Stefan sounded caught off guard. “Ah… I don’t know if I could.”

“Can you run?”

“Can—?” Stefan half turned toward Matt, and Elena could see a faint hint of a smile curve his lips. “Yes.”

“Can you catch?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all a wide receiver has to do. I’m the quarterback. If you can catch what I throw and run with it, you can play.”

“I see.” Stefan was actually almost smiling, and though Matt’s mouth was serious his blue eyes were dancing. Astonished at herself, Elena realized she was jealous. There was a warmth between the two boys that shut her out completely.

But the next instant Stefan’s smile disappeared. He said distantly, “Thank you… but no. I have other commitments.”

At that moment, Bonnie and Caroline arrived and class started.

Throughout Tanner’s lecture on Europe Elena repeated to herself, “Hello. I’m Elena Gilbert. I’m on the Senior Welcoming Committee, and I’ve been assigned to show you around the school. Now, you wouldn’t want to get me in trouble, would you, by not letting me do my job?” That last with wide, wistful eyes — but only if he looked like he might try to get out of it. It was virtually foolproof. He was a sucker for maidens who needed to be rescued.

Halfway through class, the girl sitting to her right passed her a note. Elena opened it and recognized Bonnie’s round, childish handwriting. It read: “I kept C. away for as long as I could. What happened? Did it work???”

Elena looked up to see Bonnie twisted around in her front-row seat. Elena pointed to the note and shook her head, mouthing, “After class.”

It seemed a century until Tanner gave some last-minute instructions about oral reports and dismissed them. Then everybody sprang up at once. Here goes, thought Elena, and, with her heart pounding, she stepped squarely into Stefan’s path, blocking the aisle so that he couldn’t get around her.

Just like Dick and Tyler, she thought, feeling a hysterical urge to giggle. She looked up and found her eyes exactly on a level with his mouth.

Her mind went blank. What was it she was supposed to say? She opened her mouth, and somehow the words she’d been practicing came tumbling out. “Hi, I’m Elena Gilbert, and I’m on the Senior Welcoming Committee and I’ve been assigned—”

“I’m sorry; I don’t have time.” For a minute, she couldn’t believe he was speaking, that he wasn’t even going to give her a chance to finish. Her mouth went right on with the speech.

“—to show you around the school—”

“I’m sorry; I can’t. I have to — to get to football tryouts.” Stefan turned to Matt, who was standing by looking amazed. “You said they were right after school, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Matt said slowly. “But—”

“Then I’d better get moving. Maybe you could show me the way.”

Matt looked helplessly at Elena, then shrugged. “Well… sure. Come on.” He glanced back once as they left. Stefan didn’t.

Elena found herself looking around at a circle of interested observers, including Caroline, who was openly smirking. Elena felt a numbness in her body and a fullness in her throat. She couldn’t stand to be here for one more second. She turned and walked as quickly as she could from the room.

By the time Elena reached her locker, the numbness was wearing off and the lump in her throat was trying to dissolve into tears. But she wouldn’t cry at school, she told herself, she wouldn’t . After closing her locker, she made for the main exit.

For the second day in a row, she was coming home from school right after the last bell, and alone. Aunt Judith wouldn’t be able to cope. But when Elena reached her house, Aunt Judith’s car was not in the driveway; she and Margaret must have gone out to the market. The house was still and peaceful as Elena let herself in.

She was glad for that stillness; she wanted to be alone right now. But, on the other hand, she didn’t exactly know what to do with herself.

Now that she finally could cry, she found that tears wouldn’t come. She let her backpack sag to the floor in the front hall and walked slowly into the living room.

It was a handsome, impressive room, the only part of the house besides Elena’s bedroom that belonged to the original structure. That first house had been built before 1861, and had been almost completely burned in the Civil War. All that could be saved was this room, with its elaborate fireplace framed by scrolled molding, and the big bedroom above. Elena’s father’s greatgrandfather had built a new house, and Gilberts had lived in it ever since.

Elena turned to look out of one of the ceiling-to-floor windows. The glass was so old that it was thick and wavery, and everything outside was distorted, looking slightly tipsy. She remembered the first time her father had showed her that wavery old glass, when she had been younger than Margaret was now.

The fullness in her throat was back, but still no tears would come. Everything inside her was contradictory. She didn’t want company, and yet she was achingly lonely. She did want to think, but now that she was trying to, her thoughts eluded her like mice running from a white owl.

White owl… hunting bird… flesh eater… crow, she thought. “Biggest crow I’ve ever seen,” Matt had said.

Her eyes stung again. Poor Matt. She’d hurt him, but he’d been so nice about it. He’d even been nice to Stefan.

Stefan . Her heart thudded once, hard, squeezing two hot tears out of her eyes. There, she was crying at last. She was crying with anger and humiliation and frustration — and what else?

What had she really lost today? What did she really feel for this stranger, this Stefan Salvatore? He was a challenge, yes, and that made him different, interesting. Stefan was exotic… exciting.