"You know I never liked high school," Damon confesses as we wait in the main office for the receptionist to bring me my locker combination and schedule.
"Why? Is it because they don't feature blood on the cafeteria menu?" I taunt.
"'Is it because they don't feature blood on the cafeteria menu?'" Damon mimics me, making me laugh. "No," he shoots me a glare. "It wasn't my scene. I was never good at the whole school thing."
"Even when you were a human?"
He nods. "Especially when I was a human. I even dropped out of college to join the war."
"And then you left the war," I recall his story of his return home and how he met Katherine.
"Yup, Father was not too happy with me, but it wasn't a surprise. Stefan was always his favorite," he says bitterly.
"I honestly would've thought you loved high school," I say, trying to get Damon off the topic of his father.
"And why is that?" he raises an eyebrow.
"Because of the abundant supply of easy girls willing to hook up with you when you're really just going to drain them of their blood."
"I like the way you think, Gabby."
"I know," I grin at him.
The receptionist returns with my schedule and my locker combination. We thank her and exit the office in search of my locker.
The warning bell already rung, so I only have three minutes to find my locker and get to my first period class.
"I'm going to have get you some nice pictures of me to hang in your locker," Damon mutters, leaning against the lockers as I open mine.
"Oh, yeah. That would be lovely," I say sarcastically, shoving my books in my locker.
"We could have a photo shoot when I pick you up from school," he says with a suggestive smile.
"Not the kind of photo shoot you're thinking of, buddy," I laugh before shutting my locker. "What's my first class?" I ask him as we walk down the hallway.
"U.S. History," he reads, looking at my schedule. "With my buddy Alaric Saltzman."
"The vampire hunter?" I ask with a quizzical look.
"The one and only."
"Huh. I never pictured him as a U.S. History teacher. It's a good cover."
The first bell rings. "And you're late to class," Damon chuckles, handing me my schedule. "His room is right there." He points at the classroom a couple of feet away.
"Thanks," I say with a grateful smile as I start to run to class. "I'll see you later."
I'm almost to the door when Damon appears in front of me.
"I'm going to let you go, but you might want to take these sunglasses off." He takes them out of my hair and hands them to me. "They give you a snobby New Yorker look."
"We wouldn't want that, but this is the last time I'm saying good-bye, Damon," I say with a stern smile. "I need to go learn or pretend to learn while I'm really on my phone the whole time."
"I wouldn't want to keep you from that."
"No, you don't. Now give me another hug for good luck," I hold my arms out to him.
"If I must," he lets out an exasperated sigh, but I can tell he's trying not to smile.
He enters my embrace and I find comfort in arms. His scent relaxes me and makes me feel prepared to face the day as weird as that sounds.
