A shadow fell over her, and she looked up, startled. For an instant, the two figures standing over her were alien, unfamiliar, vaguely menacing. She stared, frozen.
"Elena," said the smaller figure fussily, hands on hips, "sometimes I worry about you, I really do."
Elena blinked and then laughed shortly. It was Bonnie and Meredith. "What does a person have to do to get a little privacy around here?" she said as they sat down.
"Tell us to go away," suggested Meredith, but Elena just shrugged. Meredith and Bonnie had often come out here to find her in the months after the accident. Suddenly, she felt glad about that, and grateful to them both. If nowhere else, she belonged with the friends who cared about her. She didn't mind if they knew she had been crying, and she accepted the crumpled tissue Bonnie offered her and wiped her eyes. The three of them sat together in silence for a little while, watching the wind ruffle the stand of oak trees at the edge of the cemetery.
"I'm sorry about what happened," Bonnie said at last, in a soft voice. "That was really terrible."
"And your middle name is 'Tact,' " said Meredith. "It couldn't have been that bad, Elena."
"You weren't there." Elena felt herself go hot all over again at the memory. "Itwas terrible. But I don't care anymore," she added flatly, defiantly. "I'm finished with him. I don't want him anyway."
"Elena!"
"I don't, Bonnie. He obviously thinks he's too good for-for Americans. So he can just take those designer sunglasses and..."
There were snorts of laughter from the other girls. Elena wiped her nose and shook her head. "So," she said to Bonnie, determinedly changing the subject, "at least Tanner seemed in a better mood today."
Bonnie looked martyred. "Do you know that he made me sign up to be the very first one to give my oral report? I don't care, though; I'm going to do mine on the druids, and-"
"On the what?"
"Droo-ids. The weird old guys who built Stonehenge and did magic and stuff in ancient England. I'm descended from them, and that's why I'm psychic."
Meredith snorted, but Elena frowned at the blade of grass she was twirling between her fingers. "Bonnie, did you really see something yesterday in my palm?" she asked abruptly.
Bonnie hesitated. "I don't know," she said at last. "I-Ithought I did then. But sometimes my imagination runs away with me."
"She knew you were here," said Meredith unexpectedly. "I thought of looking at the coffee shop, but Bonnie said, 'She's at the cemetery.' "
"Did I?" Bonnie looked faintly surprised but impressed. "Well, there you see. My grandmother in Edinburgh has the second sight and so do I. It always skips a generation."
"And you're descended from the druids," Meredith said solemnly.
"Well, it's true! In Scotland they keep up the old traditions. You wouldn't believe some of the things my grandmother does. She has a way to find out who you're going to marry and when you're going to die. She told me I'm going to die early."
"Bonnie!"
"She did. I'm going to be young and beautiful in my coffin. Don't you think that's romantic?"
"No, I don't. I think it's disgusting," said Elena. The shadows were getting longer, and the wind had a chill to it now.
"So who are you going to marry, Bonnie?" Meredith put in deftly.
"I don't know. My grandmother told me the ritual for finding out, but I never tried it. Of course"-Bonnie struck a sophisticated pose-"he has to be outrageously rich and totally gorgeous. Like our mysterious dark stranger, for example. Particularly if nobody else wants him." She cast a wicked glance at Elena.
Elena refused the bait. "What about Tyler Smallwood?" she murmured innocently. "His father's certainly rich enough."
"And he's not bad-looking," agreed Meredith solemnly. "That is, of course, if you're an animal lover. All those big white teeth."
The girls looked at each other and then simultaneously burst into laughter. Bonnie threw a handful of grass at Meredith, who brushed it off and threw a dandelion back at her. Somewhere in the middle of it, Elena realized that she was going to be all right. She was herself again, not lost, not a stranger, but Elena Gilbert, the queen of Robert E. Lee. She pulled the apricot ribbon out of her hair and shook the hair free about her face.
"I've decided what to domy oral report on," she said, watching with narrow eyes as Bonnie finger-combed grass out of her curls.
"What?" said Meredith. Elena tilted her chin up to gaze at the red and purple sky above the hill. She took a thoughtful breath and let the suspense build for a moment. Then she said coolly, "The Italian Renaissance."
Bonnie and Meredith stared at her, then looked at each other and burst into whoops of laughter again.
"Aha," said Meredith when they recovered. "So the tiger returneth."
Elena gave her a feral grin. Her shaken confidence had returned to her. And though she didn't understand it herself, she knew one thing: she wasn't going to let Stefan Salvatore get away alive.
"All right," she said briskly. "Now, listen, you two. Nobody else can know about this, or I'll be the laughingstock of the school. And Caroline would just love any excuse to make me look ridiculous. But I do still want him, and I'm going to have him. I don't know how yet, but I am. Until I come up with a plan, though, we're going to give him the cold shoulder."