1993 - Mystic Falls, Virginia

   As a girl of seventeen, Florence Louisa Gilbert was expected to already think of her future. By eighteen, she needed to know where she was going to college, what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, and who she was going to spend the rest of her life with. It was something she had been taught since a young age, all thanks to her mother and her eldest brother, Grayson. But, Florence Louisa Gilbert was the opposite of her mother and Grayson. Unlike them, she had no clue what university to go to, and especially what the hell to do with the rest of her life.

   She was a good swimmer, winning the school a few first place trophies. Her coach, Coach McKee, used to say that if she continued exceeding her time, she could make it to the Olympic trials. Florence, on the other hand, didn't want to swim for the rest of her life, so she slowed down.

   She was a good cheerleader, having been co-captain of the Mystic Falls High School Lady Timberwolves. Her best friend, Cher—named after the Cher—Gaines was the captain of the squad; flexible and a lovable flirt, someone that was well-known throughout the school. Not in the sense that she slept with people, but in the sense that she was sociable and was in several after-school activities.

   Florence's love life was dead. Not dead, she just didn't want to date anyone without feeling a connection to them. The first year of her high school career, she thought she needed to date someone to feel important and to be sociably accepted to the Cheerleading-Jock Association. So, during her Freshman year, she dated Charles Fell, the tailback to the Timberwolves. Five months later, she broke up with him because there was absolutely no chemistry between the two, other than their enjoyment of Rocky Road ice cream.

   "Florence!" Cher snapped.

   Florence blinked several times and looked in front of her, seeing her best friend with an annoyed look. She gave her a small smile. "Um, what did you say?"

   Cher rolled her eyes. "I was talking about the party," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The one Charles is throwing? His parents are out of town, New York or something, and he has the whole place for himself." The blonde gave a teasing smile and wiggled her brows at her friends.

   "I can't go," Florence sighed. "You know that my parents don't let me go out after dark."

   "Sneak out," Bob Forbes said, rolling his eyes. "You've done it before."

   "It's summer," Florence said, glancing back and forth between Bob and Cher. "Yeah, Dad will think I'm sleeping at nine."

   "Swimming practice," Cher said with a grin. "You decided to get some practice and you're really tired because you did about twenty laps."

   Florence rolled her eyes and leaned her arms on the table, glancing between her friends. "Reminder that my dad is not an idiot. Also, if you've forgotten, I have an older brother who likes to keep watch on me like a hawk. I wouldn't be surprised if he were spying on me with binoculars from his building." She glanced across the street, to the building that is Dr. Grayson Gilbert's office.

   "He has a baby now," Cher mused, rolling her eyes. "Obviously, he's not gonna pay so much attention to you now, Florence."

   "Yeah," Bob agreed, nodding his head. "And, and, and, this is the party that starts summer. You can't miss it."

   Florence glanced between Cher and Bob, biting her lower lip. She had a family that was protective of her, and that sometimes meant that she couldn't have fun. But, as she thought it over, Bob was right. It was the party that would begin the summer before her senior year, the summer in which she can do whatever she wanted without thinking of what university she was going to the following Autumn or what she would do for the rest of her life. She smiled at her friends and nodded.

   "Fine," she said, nodding. "I'll ride my bike there, okay?"

   "No!" Cher yelled, causing a few passerby's to glance at the group. She flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulder and smiled wide. "I'm picking you up just up the street, okay? No way in hell are you coming to the party of the summer in that bike."

   One thing that made Florence Gilbert peculiar was that at seventeen, she still enjoyed to ride her bike. It could have been because she failed her driver's test twice, or maybe that she was terrified of being behind the wheel of a car. Either way, Florence preferred to ride her bike and she enjoyed it. Her bike was one Grayson had given her during the Christmas of 1990; a soft sky blue with a leather seat and a basket in the front.

   Florence made her way home with her bag slung over a shoulder and hair dripping wet. Cher thought best to make her seem as if she did go swimming, so she poured a glass of cold water over Florence's head and gave her a grin, saying that it would make her parents think that she just finished practice instead of hanging out with at The Mystic Grill with Cher and Bob. And, surprisingly, that was what they thought. Constance Gilbert, superior mother to the Gilbert children and a fantastic baker, immediately shooed her daughter to the bath so she wouldn't grab a cold. While Mr. Gilbert, also known as Dad or Gerard, told her to hurry up because, "Grayson and Miranda are coming over for dinner! They'll be here in twenty minutes!"

   She did just as her parents told her to do, take a shower and hurry. Instead of dressing as fabulous as she knew Cher would dress, Florence stuck with the usual sunflower print overalls over a long sleeved shirt. She tied her hair in two braids as she descended the stairs, just as Grayson and Miranda Gilbert walked in. Grayson and Florence had a weird greeting, which included a high five, a chest bump, a hug, and a fist bump. Also they was almost a ten year difference between the two, they were still good buddies.

   "Where's Elena?" Florence asked as she hugged Miranda.

   "With Jenna," she responded with a small smile. "I told her I'd give her ten if she babysat Elena for two hours."

   Florence nodded, making a face. "You could've brought her by," she muttered, making a face. "Last time I saw her was last week."

   "And that means you need to come by more," Grayson said, throwing an arm around his sisters' shoulders.

   "And that means you need to come by more," Florence imitated, making a face.

   Before Grayson had a chance to retort, Mrs. Gilbert had called them all to the dining room. The table was filled with the delicacies that Mrs. Gilbert enjoyed to make for her eldest son; chicken pasta with tomatoes and spinach, salad, and a lemon cake for dessert. It was to celebrate that Grayson had finished paying off the building, which meant that the building in which he had his office was officially his. Mrs. Gilbert wanted to celebrate, stating that it was a big accomplishment in his life as a physician. Both parents were proud, and they encouraged Florence to be just as proud as well.

   "See, Florence, I want you to be just as successful as your brother," her father said with a prideful grin, letting out a deep chuckle. "He has his own building, and working in new medicines to save the world. Doesn't that sound interesting?"

   "Very," Florence hummed, moving a piece of tomato to the side of the plate with her fork. She was bored, not at all interested in the conversation.

   "Where are you planning on going next fall?" Grayson asked with a grin.

   "I've been telling her to go to Whitmore," Mrs. Gilbert gushed with a smile. "You and John went there, so did your father! It would be nice to see her go as well."

   "Whitmore has a nice swimming department," Grayson nodded, looking over at his little sister. "They've been sending recruiters to schools nearby. They're coming to Mystic Falls soon."

   "She still has a few months left until college applications," Miranda broke in, smiling. "We don't need to talk about this now."

   Florence gave her a thankful look and looked back down at her food, finishing what she could. At eight, after she was given a rather large slice of lemon cake, she excused herself and said that she was tired from swimming practice. She excused herself and went to her room, feigning sleep until nine. At exactly nine, she sneaked out out the window with a jacket tied around her waist and Converse sneakers on her feet.

   "Where do you think you're going?" someone asked as soon as her foot touched the ground.

   Slowly, Florence turned to see Grayson standing in front of her with his arms crossed. She let out a sigh as she threw her head back in annoyance. "Charles is having a party," she truthfully said. "Everyone's going."

   Grayson made a face. "Ex-boyfriend Charles Fell?" She nodded, making him cross his arms and make another face. "Fine. I won't tell Mom or Dad, but do you have your ring?"

   Florence raised her hand and showed him the ring on her finger with an exasperated look. The ring was a heirloom that had been passed down the Gilbert family ever since Johnathan Gilbert, one of the founding members of Mystic Falls, had them made. When Florence was given the ring at the young age of twelve, Grayson had told her it was a good luck charm, something that would protect her from bad things. Ever since then, she had been warned not to take it off, and she hasn't. It was a simple silver band with a blue stone, a silver bird in the centre of the stone.

   Florence huffed. "Can I go now? Cher's waiting for me down the street."

   Grayson sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, fine." He moved to the side and stared at his sister with narrowed eyes. "Don't stay out too late, okay?"

   "Aye, Captain!" she mocked, giving him a military salute and a nod. She turned and walked down the street, her hands in her pockets and eyes searching for Cher's car. Her car was a red coloured 1989 Jeep Wrangler that was given to her as a gift by her father the day after she passed her driver's test. She found the car not a minute later, Cher sitting on the drivers' side with an excited look in her eyes. Unlike Florence, she decided to sport a small red dress that hugged her figure.

   The drive to Charles' house was filled with Cher commenting about how she couldn't wait to get there, about Michael Hastings' baby blue eyes, and how she saw Kit Peterson staring at her when she got ice cream two days ago. Florence loved her best friend, but sometimes she wished Cher had an off button, or a mute button.

   Charles Fell's house was big and extravagant, since his family came from old money. By the time Florence and Cher arrived, the party was at full swing. There were people dancing outside, inside, on the roof, and surprisingly there were already a few that were passed out. Florence passed them by with a face, trying not to let one of them touch her in case they decided to throw up.

   Right in the centre of the room stood Charles Fell, with a red cup in one hand and the other around his friend's shoulders as they both jumped to the music. Florence wasn't one for parties, but she didn't mind going every once and a while, although she preferred to stay at home and maybe watch a film.

   "Flor-ence!" Charles slurred when he saw her. He walked over to her, his arms wide and open for a hug. His breath stunk of cheap vodka and orange juice.

   "Hey," she greeted, pushing him back with a disgusted face. "How much had you had to drink?"

   Charles pinched his index finger and thumb close together. "This much."

   Florence nodded, glancing from his fingers to his face in distaste. She wasn't one that enjoyed drinking to the point where she couldn't remember what happened, especially since she had an overprotective brother.

   "Dance with me!" Charles slurred, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the throng of dancing bodies.

   Florence pulled her hand back as soon as she could and zig-zagged to the kitchen, where she grabbed some punch and then walked put to the backyard. Since the Fell's had old money, they flaunted it. The backyard was compromised of a pool, a slide, a small guest house, and many drunken kids on pool floats that looked like food. They all knew her, and called out her name when she stepped outside. She greeted them with a small smile and a wave of her hand, then made her way to the other side of the backyard, the one close to the woods. It was like a maze, in which made perfect for when the Fell's threw their annual Halloween parties. It was lit with fairy lights, sometimes white and then it would change into a string of multi-colour. As Cher put it, it was the perfect spot for a make-out session. Even from the small distance from the house, the beat of the music could still be heard.

   Florence stopped when she heard a few branches snap. She stood rigid for several seconds, and slowly turned to see of someone was there. The woods were empty, except for the few teenagers that were drunkenly running around and playing chase. But, those kids were closer to the house.

   "Hello?" she called, glancing around. "This isn't funny, Cher!"

   "Sorry," a male voice said. Florence let out a yell and turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a dirty blonde boy with his hands raised in defence. He let out a soft chuckle and repeated the same thing, "Sorry."

   "You scared me!" Florence breathed, shaking her head. "What the bell are you doing in the woods?!"

   "I could ask you the same thing," the boy answered, amused.

   "Well, I was..." she trailed off and wondered. "I was..." What the hell was she doing in the woods?

   The boy nodded, with a small smile around his lips. "You were wondering around the woods," he finished for her, letting out another small laugh. "I was doing the same."

   "It's a bit strange how we're wondering around the woods at night," she said, crossing her arms and taking a good look at him. He had a brooding, mysterious, and intense aura, which made Florence stand a bit rigid. The boy had a pale complexion, broad forehead, an angular jawline, and deep-set, forest green eyes. Even in the dark, with the few fairy lights being the only from of light, she could still see his forest-green eyes. They were the very opposite of her brown eyes.

   The boy nodded, his smile widening into a grin. "Yeah, it is strange," he said, scratching the back of his head. He took a deep breath and glanced from the ground to her. "I'm Stefan."

   "Stefan," she said, letting a smile form around her lips. As soon as she realised she had repeated his name, she shook her head. "Uh, I mean, I'm Florence." She scratched the back of her head in embarrassment and let out a soft chuckle. "Um, are you here for the party?"

   "Uh, yeah," he nodded. "Just, decided to go out for a walk. Too many drunks."

   Florence nodded. "You're telling me," she mused, glancing back at where she came from. "It's the beginning of summer and it's like they all just want to get immensely drunk." She looked at the boy, slowly taking him in once again. "Hey, um, I've never seen you before. Are you new to Mystic Falls?"

   "No," the boy—Stefan, as he introduced himself—said, "I just returned. Decided to visit my uncle, Zach."

   "Zach," Florence repeated with a nod, thinking about the few Zach's that lived in Mystic Falls. The only Zach that came to her mind was Zach Salvatore, the man her parents and brothers were good friends with. "Salvatore? Your uncle is Zach Salvatore?"

   Stefan smiled and nodded. "Yeah, he's my uncle."

   "That's cool," she responded, unsure on what to say. Once again, she scratched her head and glanced around, unsure on what to say. When she looked up at him, she bit her bottom lip. "Do you wanna head back to the party? I'm out of punch and could honestly use a lot more."

   "Did something happen?" he asked as they walked back to Charles' house.

   "Why do you ask that?"

   "Because no one drink alcohol for the taste," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Trust me. It's not because of the taste."

   Florence gave him a small crooked smile, and told him about her. She told him about how her parents wanted her to go to Whitmore, how her brother was persisting and overprotective, how her family only wanted the best for her, and that was in quotation marks as she told him. And it was strange how she told him almost everything about her, but she felt as if she had known him for a long time, and it was strange because she had known him for merely ten minutes. 

   Once back at Charles' house, the pair grabbed more punch and sat by the now-empty pool with their feet dangling in the water. It was Florence that did most of the talking, telling him little stories and asking him questions about what seemed interesting. His name was Stefan Salvatore, he was seventeen, and he was a military brat who last moved to Fort Des Moines, Iowa. He enjoyed every type of music, from the Jazz to rock classics. From the little information he had told her about himself, he had one brother that he didn't get along with. 

   In that small span of three hours, Florence Louisa Gilbert got to know Stefan Salvatore through smiles, alcoholic punch, feet dipped in water, and a thousand sequins in the darkened sky. It was then when she realised how much time has passed, and how the house was quieter than before, and how Cher was no where to be seen. She quickly stood and glanced around with a worried expression.

   "Is everything okay?" Stefan asked, standing behind her.

   "No!" she breathed, shaking her head and pushing the few strands of hair that framed her face out. "Where the hell is she?"

   "Who?"

   "Cher!" she quickly said, glancing around. "Cher goddamn Gaines, my ride!"

   "Hey, calm down," Stefan said with a grin, stepping in front of her to calm her down. "I can give you a ride home."

   Stefan's car wasn't exactly a car, but a motorcycle. It was black and sleep, an expensive piece of junk as Stefan put it when he handed Florence the helmet. When she asked him if he was gonna wear one, he let out a small smile and shrugged his shoulders, telling her that he liked the feeling of the wind against his hair. Florence let out a chuckle and rolled her eyes, and with hesitance got behind Stefan on the bike. She couldn't believe what she was doing. Little Florence Gilbert, star swimmer and cheerleader and a girl with good grades, was riding in a motorcycle with a boy she had met a few hours ago. She was nervous, excited, and at the same time absolutely terrified. 

   Her arms were tightly wrapped around his torso has the wind passed through her face, as the crickets and the cicadas sang all around them. It was one of those times where Florence Gilbert felt free, right at the moment and with no worries of the future. And it was all because of that boy, because of Stefan Salvatore.

   He dropped her off right in front of her house, with the darkened lights and nothing to worry about. She slowly got off the bike, took off the helmet and handed it to him with a grin, her stomach doing flips when his fingers accidentally touched hers in the process.

   "Thanks," she told him, glancing down. 

   Stefan grinned. "It was nothing."

   "Hey, how about we meet tomorrow at The Grill?" she asked, realising what she had done only a few seconds later. She wanted to smack herself in the head, but stopped and took a step back. "I-I mean, if you want, of course. I'm not forcing you or anything." She wanted to smack herself once again with each word that left her mouth.

   Stefan stared at her for a couple of seconds, and then nodded. "Yeah, sure." The grin was still on his face, and Florence's heart was beating a bit too wildly. 

   She went to sleep the same way, with a smile and her heart pattering like a hummingbird's wings, Stefan Salvatore in the back of her mind.