╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ CHAPTER THREE dinner party ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
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( friday night bites, pt. i )
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Friday, September 11, 2009
Harper's POV.
*Mystic Falls High School*
I open my locker and take out my binder for Spanish III Honors.
It's Friday, my favorite day of the week . . . or more like my favorite day of the school week. Saturday is my favorite day of the week, for obvious reasons.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Bonnie's dark bouncing hair coming down the hallway. I shut my locker and turn to greet her. "Hey."
"Hey," she responds as she fiddles with the lock on her locker. Based on her lack of enthusiasm, I can tell that something is bothering her.
Instead of asking her straight out what's wrong? I work my way around it. "Where's Elena?" I ask her instead (I know, the dreaded question, but I actually genuinely want to know where Elena is since she usually arrives at school with Bonnie).
Bonnie stops fiddling with the lock and sighs before answering in an irritated voice, "She's with Stefan." She then goes back to messing with the lock, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.
So that's what's bothering her, Stefan, or more specifically, Stefan and Elena's blooming romance. I can relate. Except, I don't think Bonnie has a thing for Stefan, so it must be something else.
"Whoa," I say, "I thought you were all for team Stefan?"
Bonnie finally manages to open her locker. "I don't know anymore," she says before taking out her binder for ASL III.
"What do you mean? What changed your mind?"
"He's just giving me a bad feeling. I can't explain it," Bonnie says. She shuts her locker and turns to face me.
"You know, that's weird," I reminisce. "Matt said something similar yesterday."
"He did?" Bonnie asks quickly. "What did he say?"
"Um." I think for a moment. "Something about Stefan being weird or something. I can't remember exactly what he said."
At that moment, the bell for first period rings, meaning we only have five minutes to make it up the stairs and to the third floor. On instinct, we both clutch our things and make our way down the hall to the stairwell.
