A/N: So i'm kinda trying this out. Idk, the idea came to me after watching multiple youtube videos! Hope you guys like it and start reviewing PLEASE! :D also, check out my other 2 TW stories! Love ya! Full Summary: After being forced out of Mystic Falls by hunters, Caroline Forbes travels to Beacon Hills after thinking the small town was nothing out of the ordinary. Boy was she she meets Scott, Stiles, and Derek, her hopes of living a normal life get buried. Who knew there was the supernatural outside of mystic falls? VAMP DIARIES AND TW CROSS OVER :]
Not So Ordinary
If I was still alive, and had a heart, it'd be beating out of my chest right now. Breathe Caroline, breathe! What was I thinking? There was no time for me to breathe! Somehow I found myself repeating those three words over and over on this long, seemingly endless car ride. I couldn't possibly think of anything else. Everything was too hard to bare to think of. I was supposed to be halfway to Florida by now. But, after making a few alters in my plans (like finding out Tyler was really alive and Klaus was in his body, who knew?), I hightailed it to California—Beacon Hills to be exact. I wasn't quite sure of how I found Beacon Hills. Moving to California had always been a strange desire of mine back in my human life, so I chose there instead of Florida—where I had recently found out the 88% humidity wouldn't relatively work with my easily-frizzy blonde hair. In my defense, it takes time to look this good in the morning, vampire or not! It wasn't until after typing up a quick search on Google for small towns in California where an article popped up about how the 'Beacon Hills Lacrosse Team wins championships'. And after looking up whatever the hell a Beacon Hills was, I discovered the small town in Northern California where the population was just about the size of Mystic Falls. Sure it was no Beverly Hills, but it'd have to do. It was perfect for me to hide away in until the council stopped their persistent search for Tyler and I, trying to kill all the vampires at any chance they got.
I shifted in the seat of my brand new car for the twentieth time this house. Something didn't feel right, and maybe it was the way of how I ended up with this car in the first place. I ditched my Ford Fiesta somewhere outside of Virginia. My mom, the Sherriff of Mystic Falls, gave me a tip that if they tried hard enough, these hunters could try and track my license plate. God, did they ever take a break? Sure I wanted to compel a Mercedes dealer for a shiny and flashy new toy, but I decided maybe I should stay on the down low for a while. But really, these hunters would have to look all over the States for me. The last place they'd be checking is Beacon freaking Hills. So I settled for a 2013 Ford Escape I happened to acquire somewhere in the Carolina's. Some sleazy car guy, eager for another sale, was more than happy to help him. But, to my benefit, now he doesn't remember me or the car he happened to hand over to me with no hesitation whatsoever. This vampire thing may be hard but compelling was a gift a human would kill for. Sure I felt bad about it, really bad, but I had to. It was a must and I was in a dire situation. And that was the last time I compelled on this never-ending road trip.
Okay, that was a major lie. I compelled a few more people, a bank teller (since the forty two dollars and sixty three cents I had in my wallet wasn't enough to live on), a few cashiers in a mall near Washington D.C, and a nurse or two in different hospitals along my path. Hey, a girl needs blood to survive. Okay, I did feel really selfish and particularly badass by compelling people for my needs. Elena, Tyler, Bonnie, and Stefan would absolutely murder me. Damon, on the other hand, would give me around of applause and flash one of his signature smirks. And I wasn't done with the compelling either, I still needed a house to live in and some furniture to live on. I already picked out the house online and I called the realtor to meet me there at 4 PM today. The furniture? Well, that was a different story. I'd make a short pit stop at the closest IKEA I could find. I'm sure the salesman wouldn't mind giving over a few pieces of furniture for a good cause.
"That'll be all. What did you say your name was again?" The realtor in her mid forties asked me, tucking the clipboard tightly against her chest.
"I didn't. No need for it." I compelled. She nodded her head willingly and walked off, her kitten heels pattering on the concrete. Shoot, that reminded me. I needed to think of a fake last name. I didn't need it getting around to Mystic Falls that a Caroline Forbes was new in town to Beacon Hills. I stood in front of the suburban Northern home that looked similar to the one I grew up in. It was homey, surrounded by other houses that looked just like it on a quiet street where nothing really happened. It was the perfect place to settle down for a few months incognito. As the compelled realtor pulled her car away, a moving truck filled with my furniture pulled up alongside the curb. An older man climbed out of the car followed by two younger men who looked around my age.
"Uh, is this the residence of Miss Caroline?" The guy questioned.
"Sure is." I smiled widely, flipping a strand of blonde hair behind me as light breeze blew it out of sorts. God, Beacon Hills was colder than I thought it'd be! The men proceeded to open the truck and haul pieces of furniture out. First came out the tullsta chairs, the coffee tables, dark wood dressers, even a flat screen TV. Way to go, Caroline. If I don't say so myself, I have an awesome taste in design. I should be one of those people who does those home improvement shows. And to think, I got all of this for free. Nobody would believe me, nobody human that is. As the last bits of furniture was moved into the house, I watched and observed carefully, and occasionally I'd admire the hot blonde mover in his early twenties. German was he? God, I'd love to take a bite out of him. Ugh, I silently groaned, what am I saying? I was absolutely starving. I needed a drink, and the multiple blood bags were in a large white cooler in the trunk of my car. I couldn't bring them in until all the men were gone. We didn't need a mishap arising so early in my, hopefully short, visit to the quaint little town.
Caroline Forbes may have hated wearing dull colors and big purses, but the new Caroline, Caroline Sebrof, didn't. I stood in front of a full-length mirror examining my dark outfit that consisted of black skinnies, a maroon tank top and black heeled boots. It also included a leather jacket that was hiding somewhere in another room. Looking at the white designer watch clasped around my wrist, I rushed around the house at close to vampire speed and grabbed my items, only to go outside and drive to school.
Beacon Hills High School was an ordinary high school with ordinary students in an ordinary town. I was free of a student body consisting of werewolves, vampires, witches, and hybrids and free from staff that were boring teacher by day, vampire slayer by night. There were no bitchy originals to compete with and there were, sadly, no hot werewolves to be my best friend with a rocky relationship and eventually fall in love with. None of that.
God I missed Tyler.
Shut up Caroline, shut up! Tyler was gone. He was probably somewhere in Florida sipping on a Pina Colada under the hot sun with tanned girls in bikini's by his side.
I walked by groups of people, stares and whispers emerging into my special hearing about me being 'another new girl in town'. Or how someone named Jackson was going to get his hands on 'that'. Excuse me? Eyes glazed over me and some were glued on me. Even though I felt super insecure and was pretty much freaking out inside, I strutted my confidence and walked into school like the fierce vampire Barbie Damon thought I was.
"Sco—" A voice around the corner from the lockers called.
Okay, so maybe I strutted in a little to confidently. Because when I bumped into someone in the halls, my cheeks burned red with embarrassment. His phone dropped to the floor with an extra loud clank. God this was not happening.
"Sorry! Oh my God, sorry!" I apologized profusely, picking up the phone and handing it to the boy.
"It's—who, um, oh," he began speaking non-formatting sentences. My brows pushed together. "I'm Stiles." He finally put the words together., jutting a hand out towards me.