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"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 do my oral report on," she said, watching with narrow eyes as Bonnie fingercombed
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."
"Oh, we are?"
"Yes, we are. You can't have him, Bonnie; he's mine. And I have to be able to trust you completely."
"Wait a minute," said Meredith, a glint in her eye. She unclasped the cloisonne pin from her blouse,
then, holding up her thumb, made a quick jab. "Bonnie, give me your hand."
"Why?" said Bonnie, eyeing the pin suspiciously.
"Because I want to marry you. Why do you think, idiot?"
"But – but – Oh, all right. Ow!"
"Now you, Elena." Meredith pricked Elena's thumb efficiently, and then squeezed it to get a drop of
blood. "Now," she continued, looking at the other two with sparkling dark eyes, "we all press our
thumbs together and swear. Especially you, Bonnie. Swear to keep this secret and to do whatever
Elena asks in relation to Stefan."
"Look, swearing with blood is dangerous," Bonnie protested seriously. "It means you have to stick
to your oath no matter what happens, no matter what, Meredith."
"I know," said Meredith grimly. "That's why I'm telling you to do it. I remember what happened with
Michael Martin."
Bonnie made a face. "That was years ago, and we broke up right away anyway and – Oh, all right.