Chapter 2 : Familiar Strangers
[ELENA GILBERT — Mystic Falls High School]
Something was wrong with Matt.
Elena watched him across the cafeteria, her sandwich untouched. He sat at their usual table—Tyler on his right, Caroline on his left, Bonnie across from him—but he wasn't eating either. Just... looking.
At everyone.
Like he'd never seen them before.
Caroline was mid-sentence, something about a summer charity event she wanted to organize, and normally Matt would be nodding along or making a joke to deflect Tyler's inevitable complaint. Instead, he was watching Caroline's hands as she gestured. Watching Bonnie pick at her salad. Watching Tyler tear into a burger like it owed him money.
Watching Elena.
Their eyes met. His expression flickered—surprise, then something else she couldn't read—before he looked away.
Weird.
They'd broken up two months ago. Mutual, mostly. Elena's parents had just died, and she'd been a shell of a person, and Matt had tried so hard to help her that he'd started breaking under the weight of it. The breakup was a kindness. To both of them.
But they were still friends. She knew his face better than most, and right now it was wearing an expression she'd never seen before. Alert. Calculating.
Afraid.
"Earth to Elena?"
She blinked. Caroline was staring at her expectantly.
"Sorry. What?"
"I asked if you wanted to help with the decoration committee for the Founder's Day kickoff. It's not until September, but you know my motto—"
"Plan early, panic never," Elena and Bonnie recited together.
Caroline beamed. "Exactly."
"Sure." Elena glanced at Matt again. He was eating now—mechanically, like he'd remembered that bodies needed food. "Hey, Matt? You okay?"
He looked up. That flicker again. "Yeah. Why?"
"You're being quiet."
Tyler snorted. "Donovan's always quiet. It's his thing."
"I mean quieter than usual." Elena kept her voice soft. Careful. "You're looking at everyone like you've never seen them before."
The table went still. Tyler stopped chewing. Caroline's pen paused over her notebook. Bonnie raised an eyebrow.
Matt's face did something complicated—surprise, then something like fear, then a careful neutrality that settled over his features like a mask.
"Just thinking about summer." He shrugged, too casual. "Everything's changing, you know? Senior year coming up. Feels weird."
It was a reasonable answer. It even sounded like something Matt would say. But Elena had known him since they were six. She'd kissed him in eighth grade, dated him for two years, cried on his shoulder when her parents died.
Something was different.
"Fair enough." She let it go. Pushed her suspicions down where they could join all the other things she didn't want to examine. "Summer is weird."
Matt nodded. His shoulders loosened slightly.
Tyler clapped him on the back. "Speaking of summer—you, me, weights at the Lockwood gym. Starting next week. You've been soft since..."
He trailed off, eyes flicking to Elena.
"Since Elena dumped him," Caroline supplied helpfully. Then immediately looked horrified. "Oh my god, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine." Elena smiled. It felt almost natural. "He has been soft."
Matt's laugh was rough, startled. "Thanks for the support."
"Training sounds good," he said to Tyler. "I could use it."
Tyler looked satisfied. "Six AM. Don't be late."
The bell rang. Students rose in a wave of chatter and scraping chairs. Elena grabbed her tray.
Matt was already moving toward the exit, walking faster than normal, like he wanted to be somewhere else.
What's going on with you?
She considered following him. Pressing harder. Demanding answers the way she would've two months ago, before grief turned her into someone who avoided confrontation because she didn't have the energy for it.
Instead, she watched him go.
Whatever was wrong with Matt Donovan, she'd figure it out later.
[MATT DONOVAN]
The vending machine hummed.
I stared at the options. Chips. Candy. Cookies. And there, third row down: chocolate milk. Horizon Organic. Blue carton with a cartoon cow.
Same brand I'd drunk every day of middle school. My middle school. My life.
My finger pressed B4 before I could think about it. The machine whirred. The carton dropped.
I cracked it open. The taste hit—sweet, cold, exactly right—and for a moment I was twelve years old, sitting in a cafeteria that hadn't aged badly into a trailer park, with parents who were still together and a life that hadn't ended at twenty-eight.
Small comfort.
I finished the milk and tossed the carton. The hallway was emptying as students headed to class. I had English in five minutes, a subject I'd already aced the first time I did high school. But I couldn't skip. Matt Donovan didn't skip. Matt Donovan was reliable.
The bandage on my hand itched.
I'd made it through lunch. Elena had noticed something—of course she had, she was observant even before the supernatural nonsense started—but she'd let it go. Caroline had chattered. Bonnie had been quiet. Tyler had been Tyler.
They were all so young.
That was the part that kept hitting me. I was technically twenty-eight, mentally, and I was surrounded by seventeen-year-olds who had no idea that vampires were real, that werewolves existed, that their lives were about to turn into a horror movie.
Elena's parents were already dead. Car accident, two months ago. In canon, she'd been on Wickery Bridge when it happened, saved by Stefan, though she wouldn't know that for years.
Bonnie was months away from discovering she was a witch. Tyler was years away from triggering his werewolf curse. Caroline was—
Caroline was walking toward me.
"Hey!" She stopped, slightly breathless. "I forgot to give this back to you."
She held out a pencil. Yellow. Generic.
"I borrowed it in third period. Totally forgot until just now."
I took the pencil. It was warm from her hand.
"Thanks."
She smiled. It was a good smile—practiced, perfect, the kind that got you on the homecoming court. But there was something underneath it. Something that watched my reaction a little too closely.
Caroline Forbes. Future vampire. Current perfectionist. The show had always painted her as shallow at first, before revealing how much of that was armor.
Standing here, watching her study my face like she was trying to solve a puzzle, I could see both layers at once.
"You sure you're okay?" She tilted her head. "You've been kind of... off today."
"Just tired."
"Uh-huh." She didn't sound convinced. "Well, if you need to talk..."
She let the offer hang.
"I'm good. But thanks, Caroline."
Her smile flickered—a flash of something like disappointment—before clicking back into place. "Sure. See you around, Matt."
She walked away. Heels clicking on linoleum. Blonde ponytail swaying.
I watched her go.
In the show, Caroline spent the first season desperate for attention, making bad decisions, dating the wrong people. Then Damon got his hands on her. Used her. Hurt her. Turned her into a vampire when Katherine needed a pawn.
That wasn't going to happen.
I didn't know how to save everyone. I didn't know if I even could. But Caroline Forbes was not going to become collateral damage. Not if I had anything to say about it.
The late bell rang.
I headed to English, clutching a borrowed pencil I didn't need.
[MATT DONOVAN — Parking Lot, 3:47 PM]
Tyler leaned against my truck, arms crossed.
"So? Training. Yes or no?"
"I already said yes."
"I know. I'm confirming." He pushed off the truck and fell into step beside me. "You've been weird today, man. Elena's not the only one who noticed."
Great.
"Just processing stuff." I unlocked the driver's door. "Senior year. Job. Life."
"Deep." Tyler rolled his eyes. "Look, summer conditioning starts next week. If you're serious about the team this year, we need to put in the work. None of that mopey crap."
Mopey crap. Also known as: his best friend dealing with a breakup and family dysfunction. Tyler's empathy needed calibration.
But I knew things now that changed how I saw him. The aggression. The short fuse. The way he'd snap and then immediately look confused by his own anger. The werewolf gene ran in the Lockwood family. It lay dormant until you killed someone, but it still affected behavior.
Tyler wasn't just a jerk. He was fighting something he didn't even know existed.
"I'll be there." I climbed into the truck. "Six AM. Lockwood gym."
Tyler slapped the door. "That's what I'm talking about."
He headed toward his own car—a Mustang that probably cost more than the Donovan trailer. I watched him go. Broad shoulders. Easy confidence. No idea that his father was going to die in less than a year, and that Tyler himself was going to accidentally kill someone and trigger a curse that would turn him into a wolf every full moon.
I started the engine.
The old Lockwood cellar ruins surfaced in my memory. I'd seen it in the show—abandoned, overgrown, the place where Tyler would later transform. It was secluded. Forgotten.
Perfect for testing abilities you couldn't explain.
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed east.
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