Lydia Claire thoughtfully ran a finger over the rim of the red cup in her hand. She had almost completely emptied the contents without really noticing. Her attention was already on her classmates around her.
The first two days had been less eventful than she had expected. She had used the time to observe the other students and surely get an overview of the situation. Still, she had stayed away from the others, for now, spending most of her time with Hope instead. The latter had checked in on her surprisingly often since they had arrived together. A behavior she had never known from her before. In New Orleans, her cousin had hung out alone somewhere and had avoided contact with her. But perhaps the fact that they were now attending the Salvatore School together could bring about the change in their relationship that Lydia had always wanted.
So she had avoided further questions regarding the Saltzman twins, for fear of letting the newly blossoming relationship fade before it could develop. Hope didn't seem to mind, for no attempts to broach the subject came from her. Still, Lydia couldn't completely forget about it. Instead, she noticed how her thoughts kept drifting off and her gaze fixed on the sisters in class. Hope had not given her more than a flippant explanation for the horrible relationship between the three of them. Often she had made the experience that it was best not to stir up a hornet's nest. In this case, however, she could not hide her curiosity. While she didn't know Lizzie Saltzman, she couldn't imagine that she harbored a completely groundless grudge against Hope.
Completely lost in thought, she had drained the last sip from her cup and was crushing the red plastic between her fingers. Hope couldn't spot her among the students, which gave Lydia two choices. Either she continued to stand around alone, observing the people around her, or she approached someone. Without much thought, she reached a decision.
She casually tossed the empty cup into one of the surrounding trash cans before starting to move. Her eyes wandered over the people around her. She had spent time alone with one of them so far, and only a few faces looked familiar. No wonder, when she had classes with the other witches all day. When she asked if it was always like this, Hope had assured her that it would change with time. At that moment, she wished for that change sooner rather than later. Before, she might have enjoyed being alone. At a party, however, it was the last thing she wanted. Sitting around alone all evening would not only not give her the image she wanted, but it would also quickly bring on oppressive boredom.
For a few blinks, her eyes wandered over the bystanders. They lingered on the two girls who had been on her mind for days. Inwardly she cursed herself for it. But no matter how hard she tried. She could not tear her attention away easily. Instead, she stared in that direction, trying to assess what they were doing.
Her uncle Marcel had taught her that her eyes were her most valuable tool. If one observed with them, you could see behind the facade of both friend and foe. That was what made a good leader victorious. Earlier, she had not understood what he meant. The older she got, the better she began to understand what he was trying to tell her. Those who looked correctly saw a pattern in the behavior of others that eluded others. It was a tactic she hadn't relied on enough before. If she was going to find out what stood between the Saltzman twins and Hope, it was time she took greater advantage. No one seemed interested in just telling her, after all.
Lizzie's eyes fixed on the boy in front of her. This one had caught Lydia's eye, as she had waited outside the entrance. Lizzie seemed to have remembered him at least as much. Nervously she played with one of her light blond strands. Her gaze fixed firmly on her opponent. Her sister seemed to have blanked her out.
Josie had sat down on one of the walls that stretched through the forest, keeping the past alive. Her brunette hair blew gently in the cool evening breeze. She had put her legs loosely on the ground, and it almost seemed as if she didn't mind waiting for her sister. Lydia had the feeling that this was only a facade. It was the way Josie stared into her cup as if it were the most alluring sight at this party. Her eyes seemed clouded and drenched in boredom. Yet she said nothing but paused silently in place. She draped her arms in her lap. Lydia couldn't help but think back to what Hope had spoken about the twins' relationship. Lizzie was the one Hope hated, and Josie went along with it. From the looks of it, things weren't just like that in terms of their relationship with the Mikaelsons. She was determined to figure out, how much truth her assumption beheld.
She took a deep breath and tried to gather her courage. Approaching someone who might hate her from the first moment sounded like an unwelcome undertaking. However, sooner or later she would have to meet new people anyway. Contact with Hope could not remain her only contact throughout her school years. Still, it would be easier if she didn't know that something stood between the Mikaelsons and the Saltzman's.
Lydia started moving before she could change her mind. Carefully, she pushed past the surrounding partygoers to head straight for Josie. As she did so, Josie's gaze broke away from her drink, and she lifted her head to see if her sister was still talking to the boy. Out of the corner of her eye, she seemed to notice Lydia as she did so, for she turned away from Lizzie and fixed her eyes on Lydia. A small smile appeared on her lips, shattering Lydia's last doubts.
Before she reached the wall where Josie had settled down, she was stopped.
"Hey, wait a minute," a feminine voice sounded behind her. For a moment the young witch considered just ignoring it, but then came to a stop. Slowly, she turned to eye the person who had come up behind her. In the glow of the flickering campfire the students had lit, she studied the face of her counterpart. The other girl was about a head taller than her. She had loosely braided her blond hair into a pigtail and looked at Lydia out of her blue eyes. On her lips was a friendly smile, "Hey, I'm Violet."
"Lydia," the Claire - witch replied with a nod. Her eyes kept wandering over her face in an attempt to remember where she had seen Violet before.
"Nice to meet you, Lydia," the corners of her mouth lifted further before she continued as if she knew Lydia's thoughts, "We're in Miss Tig's class together, and I've noticed you a few times."
No sooner had she mentioned how they knew each other than something clicked for Lydia. She had already noticed the girl in class. Even though it had only been a brief moment, she could remember how Violet had whispered to her seatmate almost the entire time during the last lesson. In the process, her eyes had met Violet's for a few seconds. The contact had ended as quickly as it had begun, and Lydia had turned her attention back to class. Violet seemed to feel differently if she still remembered Lydia. Though it didn't seem too far-fetched that she had merely been on the blonde's mind because she was one of the new ones. That Violet knew she was Hope's cousin she thought impossible. They didn't share the same last name, and Lydia had preferred to keep that information to herself rather than gossip it around immediately. What a burden the name Mikaelson carried, she had already witnessed often enough.
"Oh yes, I remember," Lydia replied, not admitting that she hadn't known who Violet was until she had explained. No doubt she would make no friends by doing so. She was more likely to get in the way of her goal of making new contacts at this party. So a smile settled in as Violet continued, "I saw you sitting around all by yourself, and I was wondering if you'd like to join my friends."
She gestured behind her with one hand, and Lydia disengaged her gaze to look over the blonde's shoulder. There she spotted a group of people standing together in a circle, talking animatedly.
"They are witches, too," she added, while interest was reflected in her eyes: "You are one, too, right?"
A bit surprised by the question, she nodded hesitantly. After all, they had met in class, which was explicitly for witches. On the other hand, considering that her cousin was a Tribrid, it didn't seem out of place for some to be unsure and assume every possibility.
"Yes, I am," she, therefore, answered the question, not letting her irritation show.
The friendly smile Violet had put on earlier changed at her answer. It took on a trait that Lydia could not define. A blink later, the expression was gone so quickly that she almost believed she had imagined it.
"Come, I'll introduce you to the others," Violet resolutely grabbed her hand and pulled Lydia along before she could resist. Loosely, she allowed herself to be dragged along. She might not have forgotten Violet's comical reaction, but the prospect of meeting other witches silenced her alarm bells. For years, she had wished to be part of a coven and have other witches around her with whom she could share her experiences. In New Orleans, her mother had always discouraged her from doing so. She had never known the reason for this. At this school, she had a new opportunity to make her wish come true. It didn't like being French Quarter witches. Nevertheless, it was worth a try.
Without resistance, Lydia follower her until she arrived at the group of people. One after the other, they all introduced themselves to her more or less extensively, and while some turned away afterward, others stayed in conversation with her. She didn't waste any more thoughts on the initial astonishment about Violet's reaction. She noticed the furtive glances she received but decided not to think anything more about it. After all, she was prone to a similar curiosity herself.
She had barely begun to relax and forget the rest when a hand placed itself on her shoulder.
"Lydia," there was something excited in Hope's voice as she addressed her cousin. Automatically, the witches wheeled around and looked into Hope's face. Her brow furrowed, "What's wrong? "
There was a dark expression in Hope's eyes that sent a cold shiver down Lydia's spine. Something was very wrong. When the Tribrid took her hand off her shoulder, her fingers twisted into a tense fist. She followed up with an explanation. The only thing she managed to produce was, "I need your help."
Lydia opened her mouth to ask if that had to be now. Hope's demeanor, however, left no doubt that whatever she was about to do couldn't wait. She quickly dismissed the question and instead nodded, "All right. I'll help you."
It didn't occur to her to refuse her request. Nothing was more important than her family. She had heard that so many times since childhood that it had eventually gotten into her blood herself. The fact that she might be ruining her chances with the other witches seemed beside the point.
"Excuse me," over her shoulder she glanced at the others, "I need to clear something up."
With those words, she started moving to follow Hope, who was already pushing her way back between the other people.
"But Lydia..." she heard Violet's astonished voice behind her but made no move to stop. Instead, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on Hope so that she wouldn't slip out of her field of vision, while Lydia sidled past two boys.
_____