"Well, not that this hasn't been fun," Damon announces as he stands from the table, "but we really do need to get back to work."

  My heart sinks at the idea of having to go home, I really was having such a great time. I am so happy, and honestly proud of myself, for coming out tonight. I glance outside and my eyes widen in surprise, its pitch black out there! All feeling of happiness quickly forgotten, I quickly dig my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking as panic rises in me. I have to force myself not to groan aloud, I can't believe it's so late!

  How could I forget to turn my phone volume up after school? Zeke is going to be furious! Even worse... my dad is going to kill me! Five missed calls, and only one of them is from Zeke. I have two voice mails, but I am really not looking forward to listening to them.

  "Are you OK?" Elena asks softly, studying me closely.

  "Oh, just fine. Totally lost track of time," I rush through my words, focusing on keeping my voice even. I slide out of the booth after Damon, my muscles tensing at the need to run home. "This was fun though, see you guys tomorrow k?"

   I give a little wave and throw my bag over my shoulder. Go, I have to go! I have to get out of here, but I don't want to be too obviously worried. I turn to the door and move as quickly as I can without breaking out into a run.

  Suddenly a hand is on my shoulder, halting me in my tracks. My heart skips a beat, heat radiating from the touch slowly spreading through me. I slowly turn around, my body trembling in response, to see Damon's body close to mine. He looks down to me with soft eyes, considering me. His ever present smirk no where to be found, instead his soft lips are turned down in a subtle frown. I would almost dare to say he looks concerned

  "Do you need a ride? I have my car here," he offers.

  My heart flutters in my chest as I think about being alone with Damon, my stomach flip flops in response. I really don't understand my body! There is nothing special about getting a ride home, he is just trying to be nice!

  "Um, Damon?" Elena calls in a warning as she and Stefan dart out of their booth.

  They move in close to Damon, standing on either side of him as though to block him in. Glancing between the three, I am suddenly very uncomfortable. I am reminded of the way wolves circle their prey, and my skin prickles with alertness. Alarms ring in my mind, there has to be something more, something is going on. There isn't anything special about a ride home, right?

  "Oh no, thank you though," I absently answer, focusing more on the need to get out of this situation than anything else.  "It doesn't take me long to walk home."

  I am not really lying, right? I mean, a half hour isn't that long in retrospect. I just need to get out of here! Damon doesn't break eye contact with me and I can't help but squirm under his gaze. It's like he is looking right through my little lie, right through me. I bite my lip as I lock eyes with him, trying to stand my ground, but glancing away a moment later unable to take the intensity of his stare.

  "Come on it will only take a second for me to drive you," he insists,  expertly spinning me around toward the door, sliding his hand down to my lower back.

  My body tenses, my breath catching in my throat as my mind refuses to focus on anything besides the feel of his hand against me. I don't need much convincing, only a light pressure applied, to let him lead me forward. My legs quiver below me, but the move onward. I can feel my body responding, in ways that I don't fully understand, but my mind is in a haze. My heart thrashes within me, my skin tingling incessantly, distracting all my other senses.

  I don't need to see him, I can feel him smirking next to me. Obviously he enjoys being in charge. No longer paying any attention to Elena or Stefan I gasp in surprise as Stefan jumps out in front of me. I hadn't even noticed him stir from behind us.

  "Why don't Elena and I come with you?" he offers, but his tone and the way his solid form blocks the door makes it feel like more of a demand.

  The evening had started out so nice and carefree, but now I am anxious and everyone seems uneasy. Like there is something unspoken going on that I am totally missing. Is Damon not trustworthy alone?

  "Aw, more bonding time?" Damon sneers, placing his hand on Stefan's chest, threatening to push him to the side.

   I start to fidget as I wonder if I should reconsider just walking home.

  "Um, guys? Really I can-" I am interrupted by Stefan sighing and taking a step out of our way.

  Damon doesn't miss a beat, in the same moment Stefan moved I am guided forward once again. Just short of the door Damon stops and leans in toward his brother to whisper something. I strain to hear the exchange or words, but its barely a mumble.

  I believe I hear Damon say something about not wanting to waste time, and maybe that he wasn't hungry?  It doesn't really make sense, so I wouldn't bet the farm on it. What would they be working on? And why would him being hungry matter? Stefan stares intensely at Damon, who only chuckles. "Scouts honor," he murmurs loud enough for me to be positive of his words. After one final sigh from Stefan, Damon leads me through the door.

  The cold air nips at my skin making my already fragile nerves tingle on high alert. I feel as though I'm in a trance as Damon leads me out to the street and opens the door to a beautiful black car. Not being one for cars I honestly didn't know what it was, but I know I wouldn't even be able to dream of owning this car.

   I slide into the seat and sit awkwardly as he closes the door behind me, walking around to the driver's side. I am alone for only a moment, but in the time it takes him to enter the car my mind is reeling. What is going on with these people? They act so normal one moment and so secretive and sketchy the next. I rub my bear arms, goose bumps cover my exposed flesh, as I deny a shiver that wants to escape me. Days here are warm and very sunny, but when the moon takes over the temperature drops immensely. Suddenly, I am very thankful for the ride home, even if he is being a little weird. He starts the car and puts it in drive in one swift motion.

  "So, where to my dear?" He tilts his head toward me as his familiar smirk flashes across his face. I fidget in my seat, hating the way my cheeks redden at the term of endearment.

  "It's the third left, then all the way down that road," I say nervously.

  As the car starts to move I remember my dad. He works swing shifts, and today is his night to be at home. I close my eyes as the realization hits me, Damon is bringing me home! That means if my dad is outside, like he so often is, my dad will see him. Or well even worse, Damon will see my dad! I silently start to panic as I watch the street signs fly past us.

  "Um you know you can drop me off at the corner. It's OK, I can walk from here."

  He shoots a glance at me with a raised eyebrow,  "What's the point? I'm already out of my way, and I always finish what I start," he winks making me shift uncomfortably.

  I quickly look out the window to hide my bright red color. Not that he would probably be able to see it in this dark, but just in case. We ride in silence, which on its own is really unnerving, but all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears as we near my home.

  "It's the big white one," I announce, the lie tumbling forth in a panic.

  To emphasize I point to the house before mine, the one that belongs to Zeke. More than anything I wish the beautiful white hose with the large porch was my own. Wish I could say my mom hung the blue curtains in the window and that the flower garden was something I started when I was young. Would like to believe that my dad cut the lawn and fixed up the backyard so we could have barbecues on nice summer days.

  Reality though, my home is truthfully the tiny old run down house after it. The one that looks more like a forgotten shack than a home. The size never really bothered me, considering it's just dad and me, we don't need anything big. What bothers me is how grungy the place looks, no matter how much work I put into it.

  Zeke's house on the other hand, I could pretend that house was mine. I mean it's my second home in a way, and I'm going to be going over there anyways, so it's not really a lie. If I am lucky I can get out and run inside his house before my dad even notices. Damon pulls to the curb and I waste no time in opening the door.

  "Thank you very-" I am cut off by a loud shout.

  "Hey!" My dad yells as he sits up from his reclining position on the old lawn chair on the front porch.

   I cringe as I take him in, he has really started to look awful in the past few years. He has always been a big man, not fat just large in all meaning of the word. He towers over everyone, demanding the authority he feels he deserves. He really wouldn't look so bad if he would only shave and get a good night's rest once in a while. I groan, watching Damon's eyes widen and head tilt as he considers the waving man. 

  "You didn't make me dinner! Do you know what time it is!" Dad stands, nearly falling over, and stumbles off the porch towards us. "I've been starving! All I've had these here beers!" He emphasis his point by throwing his empty bottle at me. Thankfully in his drunk state he is unable to aim and the bottle lands uneventfully in the grass.

  "Um, do you know this guy?" Damon skeptically asks, all the while keeping his eye on my dad who staggers toward us.

  "Sorry, I have to go. Thanks for the ride," I push the words out as fast as I can, unable to take his  look of surprise any longer.

  Before Damon can respond I jump out of the car and slam the door, totally embarrassed. Running to my dad's side I take his arm and help steady him. I hear a car door open and close behind us and curse under my breath.

  "Stupid girl! I pay for everything! I let you go to that school, put a roof over your head and all I ask in return is a little respect and some simple dinner!" Dad slurs his words, yelling louder now and swaying back and forth.

  I struggle to keep him from falling over, just praying I can get him inside before he makes too big of a scene.

  "Excuse me sir," Damon suddenly appears in front of us. I can't bear to look at him, ashamed of not only my father, but that this is my life. "You need to calm down now," Damon continues. His voice is soft and even, but holds assertiveness. Hearing his words even made my own heart start to calm.

  "Who the hell-" Dad starts to go after Damon, but just stops mid sentence.

  His whole body relaxes against me, I let out a groan as I take on the unexpected weight. I am terrified I will drop him, I don't even want to know how mad he would be if he found out something like that happened. Just as my legs were about to give out under me, Damon swiftly moves in. Effortlessly he takes my dad's other arm over his shoulder and stands up as if he doesn't even feel the added weight.

  "Um thanks," I mumble, my shoulders ache from where my dad was leaning.

  Free from his crippling mass I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen them back up. Keeping my eyes averted, I scurry ahead of them and up the front stairs. As fast as I can I open the door and am met with complete destruction. I have to stop to take it in, and inwardly let out a cry of frustration.

  While dad was home alone he completely destroyed the place! You would never guess it was spotless when I left this morning. While stumbling around he knocked over the living room lamp, now shattered on the floor. At least a case worth of beer bottles is scattered about, and it looks like a bag of chips exploded.

   Unable to think of a way to get Dad in here without Damon seeing, I force myself to take a careful step, making sure to avoid the glass, into the house. I am glancing around the room, my embarrassment ever growing, when I realize that I was not followed in. Damon had stopped at the door way, where he continues to hold my dad. A sigh of defeat escapes me as I accept the fact he is seeing everything.

  "Oh come in, careful I don't want you to cut yourself."

  Damon drags my half past out dad into the house, pausing unsure as to where to put him. He takes a quick glance around, his eyebrows raising at the sight, but thankfully says nothing. Our house is very small, technically only a one bedroom, and most of it is viewable from the door way. The living room is very obviously a mess, but even through the walkway into the kitchen it hints at further chaos. The two bar stools at the table have been tipped, laying forgotten on the ground. The tile floor suspiciously shining, light reflecting from the liquid that peeks into view from further in the room.

  With a sigh I push all emotion down. Don't think about it, just get to work. I leave the front door wide open for the two and open the door to the right that leads to Dad's room. It's a simple bedroom with really nothing in it but a bed and a dresser. Damon walks him into the room with ease and gently throws him onto the bed. I bite my lip as I stare down at my dad, ashamed to admit this is my family. No longer having my dad between us, Damon finally turns to me and I am forced to find the courage to look at him.

  I open my mouth to say something, but he shakes his head to stop me. Moving his way out of the bedroom, I step aside to let him through. Glaring in on my father, I fight the urge to start screaming at him. Instead, I close the door softly hoping he just passes out without any more problems.

  "Do you have a broom?" Damon glances around the room for a cleaning closet.

  "Um, you can go now. Thanks for your help," I mumble quickly standing next to the open front door, hoping he just leaves so I can break down.

  I am embarrassed enough as it is, and I really don't need him to see that. If he gets the hint, he decides to ignore it. He takes a step closer to me, puts his hand on my lower back and guides me into the room, closing the door behind us. Once again my heart quickens at his touch, and I have to focus not to let my mind get consumed by it.

  "Let's just get this place put back together," his voice is soft and gentle, I can't help but look up at him confused.

  The cocky arrogant guy I just spent the day with seems to be gone, replaced by this stranger who comforts and looks to help. Being this close to him, feeling his hand at my back again, my heart is beating out of control. I give a simple little nod, not trusting my voice, and try to calm myself down. Shaking my head, mostly to shake away any odd feeling I was having at the moment, I take a step from him so I can get to work. Carefully walking across the living room floor, so as I don't get cut, I slowly make my way into the kitchen.

  Without meaning to I let out a whimper as I am met with the rest of the damage. Looks like dad really did try to make himself dinner, although I would have preferred if he hadn't. The milk jug lay empty on the floor, a pool of milk surrounding it. A box of Mac and cheese still sitting on the counter, at least that was not opened yet. Going into the closet I pull out a towel, the broom, dustpan, and a garbage bag.

  Wordlessly, Damon takes the broom from me and heads into the living room. Quickly I pick up the empty milk jug, thank god it wasn't full, and toss it into the garbage. Unfolding the towel I toss it on top of the puddle letting it just soak in, I will finish with it later. Snapping the garbage bag open I carefully move into the living room, stopping for only a moment to watch Damon sweep up the chips. I can't figure him out, why would he care to help me? Pushing my thoughts to the side I grab already piled up bottles and toss them in the bag.

  Holding the dust pan now I kneel down so Damon can sweep the mess of chips onto it. Once that has been taken care of we both carefully move to the pile of shattered glass. Crouching next to it, I place the bag on the ground so we can move the larger pieces into the bag easier. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Damon watching me.

  I just can't get a handle on him! I can feel myself shaking under his gaze, my nerves not used to the attention, and without thinking I glance over to him for just a moment. I should know better than to not pay attention to what I am doing.

  "Ow!" I yelp, dropping the sharp piece of glass that I was carelessly holding.

  I whine quietly in pain as I see a small piece still protrudes from my pointer finger, blood running down my hand. I don't do very well with blood, especially my own.

  "Klutz," Damon mutters, hardly above a whisper.

   Gently he takes my hand in his own, my heart leaping into my throat. I watch, my stomach clenching, as his hands swiftly remove the little piece from my finger. Still, no matter how careful he was being, it hurt! I squeak as it is taken out, and out of reflex pull my hand away.

  "Let me see it," Damon's voice is soft, but still demanding.

  I hesitate, holding my hand protectively against myself, but after a moment I slowly open my hand out to him. It amazes, and terrifies me how much I'm bleeding from just a little cut. His hands are soft as he turns my hand over in his, inspecting the damage done. I watch in bewilderment as he brings my finger to his lips. What is he doing? Is he going to kiss my boo boo?

  But no, instead he opens his mouth and presses my finger against his velvet tongue. Closing his lips around my finger he gently sucks at the blood, that just a moment ago was making me feel woozy. My heart pounds against my chest, my face flushing as I feel his tongue running against my flesh. My stomach twists in a perplexed jumble of confusion, nervousness, and maybe... pleasure?

  He closes his eyes as he slowly pulls my finger away, his tongue gliding across me as he does. As soon as my finger was free from his mouth, it's like he snaps out of a trance. He drops my hand quickly and stands without warning.

  "You need to be more careful," he states coldly, grabbing at the broom again.

  I keep my face down, not daring to look at him as he sweeps the rest of the glass into the dustpan for me to throw away. It's now even more awkward than it was before. My finger continues to throb where I was cut, but I am afraid to acknowledge it. On the bright side, the blood is gone. How it came to be though, on second thought, I don't want to think about that. My heart flutters once more at the thought of his lips, his tongue, on me.

  Once the floor was taken care of I close the bag and set it to the side, I will take it out to the can with me when I leave in the morning. Turning on my heels I quickly go back into the kitchen, escaping to be alone. I can hear Damon follow me, not catching the clue. Apparently I won't be alone after all, but I force myself to pay him no attention.

  I just don't know what to say to him. Kneeling next to the towel I begin moving it around to make sure I had gotten all the milk. Once satisfied I pick it up carefully and bring it to the washer. In the morning I will run a load, I would do it now, but I don't want the noise to wake dad.

  Finally, finished, I don't have anything more to distract myself with. Slowly I turn toward Damon who is leaning against the counter with cool, relaxed expression as he watches me. I bring my eyes to meet his, and once again our gaze locks onto each other. My heart quickens as I look deep into his eyes, wondering to myself what he may be thinking.

  This entire night really has been odd, I can't even imagine what he thinks of me now. I didn't think he liked me to very much in the first place. Not being able to take anymore I look away towards the floor, still shiny from where it had been wet.

  "So, I thought your house was the white one," he comments offhand. He studies me, his intense eyes devouring me as he flashes that crooked smile at my obvious discomfort.

  "Well, actually it's Zeke's," I stammer, my voice is low and brittle.

  Somehow I had convinced myself I wasn't really lying, but deep down I had known I was, and now I was caught. I nervously bite my lip as I glance back up to him, unsure what to expect. He nods but doesn't say anything for a long while, and all I can do is stand there awkwardly under his watch. With anyone else I would have thought they would get bored standing there, but not him. He seems to get more amused every time I begin to fidget uncomfortably.

  "I'm sorry, for all this," I blurt out suddenly, motioning towards my house. "My dad isn't normally..." I let myself trail off as Damon saunters toward me.

  I take a small step back, bumping into the washing machine. Holding Damon's gaze I try not to look as nervous as I really am. I concentrate on standing my ground, even though my whole body is trembling as Damon stops just inches away from me.

  "You should thank me," His whispers, his breath tickling my face. His eyes shine with that playful taunt, his smirk never faltering as he speaks. Moving his face even closer to mine his voice is just above a whisper "Seems you never really appreciate my help." His eyes lock with mine and I stare up at him in shock.

  Then he is gone. I swear he moved so fast from me that one second he was almost touching me and the next he was halfway into the living room. Did I black out? He glances back at me and chuckles softly to himself.

  "See you in class," and with that he walks out the door, into the cool night.