Thought L.J. Smith fans might enjoy this..
The Mourning After
"By E.F.G.
“Can we go upstairs?” Bonnie whispered to Elena, as soon as Elena came out of Mrs. Flowers’s first floor bedroom. Elena didn’t need to ask why Bonnie wanted a quick conference. The younger girl had seen her taking Mrs. Flowers aside. She must have at least guessed at the subject that was being discussed behind the closed door, and she certainly must have noticed Elena’s freshly reddened eyes and the tremor in her hands afterward.
No getting away from it. Elena excused herself to the “powder room”—and if there was any face powder in this damned boardinghouse, she swore, she was going to find it and use it. She’d more or less given up wearing makeup after becoming a vampire, but now she was certain that both she and Bonnie were going to need it. Their noses would be lit up like Rudolph’s from crying if they spoke about Damon now.
Once Bonnie was in the room she shared with Meredith, she got straight to the point. “You talked to Mrs. Flowers about him,” she said shakily. “I know you did. Did she ask Mama? Did Grandmama say anything?”
Elena had had time on the stairs to come up with her position, and now, even looking into Bonnie’s clear brown eyes, she was determined to stick to it. Tell a girl like Bonnie that Grandmama had said that there might be the slightest chance that Damon’s soul was not lost irretrievably and all you’d do was give her false hope. No, you’d do worse. Elena knew Bonnie. Inside that finally-filling-out-chest, a dandelion of hope would snowball, until it ended up as a boulder the size of a trailer, and made of diamond to boot. It was kinder to crush the dandelion now, to let Elena do the worrying and the planning and sweating, and—perhaps—somehow, someday she could open a door to let in a young man who would say casually, “Hullo, Redbird.”
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The Mourning After
"By E.F.G.
“Can we go upstairs?” Bonnie whispered to Elena, as soon as Elena came out of Mrs. Flowers’s first floor bedroom. Elena didn’t need to ask why Bonnie wanted a quick conference. The younger girl had seen her taking Mrs. Flowers aside. She must have at least guessed at the subject that was being discussed behind the closed door, and she certainly must have noticed Elena’s freshly reddened eyes and the tremor in her hands afterward.
No getting away from it. Elena excused herself to the “powder room”—and if there was any face powder in this damned boardinghouse, she swore, she was going to find it and use it. She’d more or less given up wearing makeup after becoming a vampire, but now she was certain that both she and Bonnie were going to need it. Their noses would be lit up like Rudolph’s from crying if they spoke about Damon now.
Once Bonnie was in the room she shared with Meredith, she got straight to the point. “You talked to Mrs. Flowers about him,” she said shakily. “I know you did. Did she ask Mama? Did Grandmama say anything?”
Elena had had time on the stairs to come up with her position, and now, even looking into Bonnie’s clear brown eyes, she was determined to stick to it. Tell a girl like Bonnie that Grandmama had said that there might be the slightest chance that Damon’s soul was not lost irretrievably and all you’d do was give her false hope. No, you’d do worse. Elena knew Bonnie. Inside that finally-filling-out-chest, a dandelion of hope would snowball, until it ended up as a boulder the size of a trailer, and made of diamond to boot. It was kinder to crush the dandelion now, to let Elena do the worrying and the planning and sweating, and—perhaps—somehow, someday she could open a door to let in a young man who would say casually, “Hullo, Redbird.”
Read more: link
link
