New York || Damon Salvatore [1]

Chapter Eleven

1976 — Provincetown, Massachusetts

   Damon was confused why was there a fall festival the week after Thanksgiving, mostly because after Thanksgiving was Christmas, which meant winter, which meant no festivals. But, Provincetown was backwards, especially when it came to the Beauchene family. Ioanna Beauchene made several of her famous treats to sale: brownies, raspberry lemon bars, strawberry jam thumbprint cookies, tall and creamy New York cheesecake with a cherry sauce drizzled on top, banana walnut bread, mint chocolate chip cake, and her most famous treat, a sweet apple pie with a sprinkle of cinnamon-sugar on top. Although there were a lot, Ioanna enjoyed baking. Days before, the whole house smelled like a bakery, overwhelmingly sweet.

   Helena ran a small tarot reading booth, where everyone had a good time and smiled. She dressed like a stereotypical Roma woman, with colourful scarves and a long colourful skirt. And just like the many movies about stereotypical Roma women, she had a crystal ball in front of her. She would wave her hands over it, softly chant a rhyme with the person's name and what they wanted, and then she would say something that appeared similar to them. She noticed something at them, she would point it out, and extend it about love, or money, or a job. In a way, she was giving false hope, but who would believe a woman sitting in a booth outside of the local high school?

   Frederick helped his mother sell sweets, although he mostly flirted with the girls that passed by or pretended to buy something just to talk to him. He would lean over the table, have that smile of his on his lips, and tell pretty things to the pretty girls. They all believed him, and they all gave him their numbers. 

   Damon, on the other hand, walked around the grounds with Freya tightly holding his hand. Although it was cold, each had a cup of cold home-made strawberry lemonade. It was sweet on his tongue, and each slurp reminded him of Freya's kisses. Her hand was cold against his, and he wondered whether she could feel the difference between his temperature and hers.

   They walked all around the school, playing games with the bright red tickets that one could buy at the front. Damon won her a stuffed bear when he threw a ball at some cans, and he couldn't help but smile as she kept the bear close to her. When he gave it to her, she laughed and said, "I'll name it Thirteen." And he asked why she named the bear after a number, and she answered that it was because they met on August 13th. And ever since then, Thirteen wasn't just an ordinary number, it became significant.

   "How was high school for you?" he asked, breaking the small, but comfortable, silence between them. "Was it fantastic?"

   "Ugh," she groaned and shook her head. "Fantastic is not a word I would use when describing high school."

   "Then, what would you use?"

   "Eh," she answered, standing in front of him with a slight pout, yet there was a visible smile around her lips. "I had friends, but none that I stayed in contact with after graduation. There were boyfriends, two, but they were all small crushes that I knew would never go into something else."

   "You sure?" Damon asked, almost teasing, with a hint of jealousy inside of him. "What about Oliver Wood?"

   Freya made a face of disgust. "This makes me feel as if you read one of the old diaries that's around my room," she said, looking up at him. She gave him a small smile, ending in a soft laughter. "Oliver Wood was... Ugh, he was my first love." Once again, she made a face of disgust. "We were together for three years, ever since our sophomore year."

   "How did it end?"

   "He cheated," she shrugged. "So, I broke it off. You know, the typical heartbreak story. Guy cheats, girl gets over him with a lot of ice cream and alcohol."