Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

History Repeating

"So," Abigail started as memories of chasing Tyler with Elena and Caroline flashed before her, the moments when she looked over her shoulder to see their parents whispering over an open book standing out the most. "Do you think they knew?"

"Knew what?" Elena asked.

"About vampires."

"They never believed in any of it." Elena shrugged, glancing at the collage of wedding pictures in the hallway. "How could they?"

"Just think about it." She followed her down to the empty first floor of the house. "Dad was obsessed with town history. Mom never let us think that a story was anything more than a story. There had to be a reason for that. And they were best friends with-"

"Wait..." Elena stopped at the front door. "You don't actually think they knew, do you?"

"Elena, they were on the Council," she said slowly. "There's a reason those seats have only been filled by founding families and people who married into them."

They stared at each other, waiting for an answer they would never get, before setting off for school.

Caroline found their sides before Bonnie, bringing to light a feud that Abigail had only been slightly aware of. The details were hard to follow, they typically were. One thing was for sure though, this argument had the ability to take over even the lightest of conversations.

"Have you even talked to Bonnie?" Abigail asked.

"No. I'm mad at her," Caroline snapped. "She needs to make the first move." 

"Be the bigger person," Elena offered.

Caroline sang back, "Impossible in her presence."

"Why are you so pissed at her anyway?" The question made Abigail's absence in the friend group noticed if it hadn't been before, and she knew it had been. "You usually fight with me like this. Not her."

"She's a thief, that's why," Caroline said. "I gave her my necklace, and she refuses to give it back. It's a matter of principle."

"Alright," Elena sighed. "Well, I tried. I'm officially out of it."

"Good. Your turn." She stepped in front of Elena. "Where's Stefan? Have you talked to him?"

Elena settled on, "It's complicated," as the warning bell rang.

The open door of the history classroom halted Abigail in her tracks. It was usually closed until the final bell when one teacher or the other finally made it across campus to monitor them. Which meant today was the day. Tanner's replacement was finally there.

The new teacher was standing at the chalkboard. His hair was barley kept in place, moving each time he looked down at his notes. His handwriting was almost illegible, and it was not because he was in a rush. His shirt was wrinkled, something she could not help but notice as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

He gave her a small, soft smile. It pulled her all the way into the classroom, followed her down the aisle, and into her seat. The bell rang.

"Good morning, everyone!" His voice filled the room with a resounding tone as he motioned toward the chalkboard. "Alaric Saltzman. It's a mouthful, I know. Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

"Saltzman is of German origins. My family emigrated here in 1755 to Texas. I, however, was born and raised in Boston. Now the name Alaric belongs to a very dead great-grandfather I will never be able to thank enough." The class laughed. "You'll probably want to pronounce it 'Allric', but it's 'Alaric,' okay? So, you can call me Ric. I'm your new history teacher."