She liked them, she real y did. Most of the time. They were boisterous, sure, but they were always very nice to her: getting her drinks, immediately handing her their jackets if she was cold, tel ing her that they had no idea what she saw in a loser like Zander, which was clearly their guy way of declaring how much they loved him and that they were happy he had a girlfriend.
She looked over at Zander, who was laughing as he held Tristan in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over the top of Tristan's head. "Do you give in?" he said, and grunted in surprise as Marcus, whooping joyful y, tackled them both.
It would have been easier if there were other girls around that she could get to know. If Marcus (who was very cute in a giant shaggy-haired Sasquatch kind of way) or Spencer (who had the kind of preppy rich-boy elegance that some girls found extremely attractive) had a regular girlfriend, Bonnie would have someone to exchange wry glances with as the guys acted like doofuses.
But, even though a girl would occasional y appear clinging to the arm of one of the guys, Bonnie would never see her again after that night. Except for Bonnie, Zander seemed to travel in an almost exclusively masculine world.
And, after two days of fol owing the macho parade around town, Bonnie was starting to get sick of it. She missed having girls to talk to. She missed Elena and Meredith, specifical y, even though she was stil mad at them.
"Hey," she said, making her way over to Zander. "Want to get out of here for a while?"
Zander wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Um.
Why?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her neck.
Bonnie rol ed her eyes. "It's kind of loud, don't you think?
We could go for a nice quiet walk or something." Zander looked surprised but nodded. "Sure, whatever you want."
They made their way down the fire escape, fol owed by a few shouts from Zander's friends, who seemed to think he was going on a food run and would shortly return with hot wings and tacos.
Once they were a block away from the rooftop party, the noise faded and it was peaceful, except for the distant sound of an occasional car on the roads nearby. Bonnie knew she ought to feel creeped out, walking around at night on campus, but she didn't. Not with Zander's hand in hers.
"This is nice, isn't it?" Bonnie said happily, gazing up at the half moon overhead.
"Yeah," Zander said, swinging her hand between them.
"You know, I used to go on long walks - runs, real y - with my dad at night. Way out in the country, in the moonlight. I love being outside at night."
"Aw, that's sweet," Bonnie said. "Do you guys stil do that when you're home?"
"No." Zander hesitated and hunched his shoulders, his hair hanging in his face. Bonnie couldn't read his expression. "My dad ... he died. A while ago."
"I'm so sorry," Bonnie said sincerely, squeezing his hand.
"I'm okay," Zander said, stil staring at his shoes. "But, y'know, I don't have any brothers or sisters, and the guys have sort of become like a family to me. I know they can be a pain sometimes, but they're real y good guys. And they're important to me." He glanced at Bonnie out of the corner of his eyes.
He looked so apprehensive, Bonnie felt a sharp pang of affection for him. It was sweet that Zander and his friends were so close - that must have been the family stuff he had to deal with the other night. He was loyal, that much she knew. "Zander," she said. "I know they're important to you. I don't want to take you away from your friends, you goof." She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the mouth. "Maybe just for an hour or two sometimes, but not for long, I promise." Zander returned the kiss with enthusiasm, and Bonnie tingled al the way down to her toes.
Clinging to each other, they made their way to a bench by the side of the path and sat down to kiss some more.
Zander just felt so good under her hands, al sleek muscles and smooth skin, and Bonnie ran her hands across his shoulders, along his arms, down his sides.
At her touch, Zander suddenly winced.
"What's the matter?" she said, lifting her head away from his.
"Nothing," said Zander, reaching for her. "I was just messing around with the guys, you know. They play rough."
"Let me see," Bonnie said, grabbing at the hem of his shirt, half concerned and half wanting to just check out Zander's abs. He had turned out to be surprisingly modest, considering they were sharing a room.
Wincing again, he sucked his breath in through his teeth as Bonnie lifted his shirt. She gasped. Zander's whole side was covered with ugly black-and-purple bruises.
"Zander," Bonnie said horrified, "these look real y bad.
You don't get bruises like that just messing around." They look like you were fighting for your life - or someone else was, she thought, and pushed away the words.
"They're nothing. Don't worry," Zander said, tugging his shirt back down. He started to wrap his arms around her again, but Bonnie moved away, feeling vaguely sickened.
"I wish you'd tel me what happened," she said.
"I did," Zander said comfortingly. "You know how crazy those guys get."
It was true, she'd never known guys so rowdy. Zander reached for her again, and this time Bonnie moved closer to him, turning her face up for his kiss. As their lips met, she remembered Zander's saying to her, "You know me. You see me."
She did know him, Bonnie told herself. She could trust Zander.
Across the street, Damon stood in the shadow of a tree, watching Bonnie kiss Zander.
He had to admit he felt a little pang, seeing her in the arms of someone else. There was something so sweet about Bonnie, and she was brave and intel igent under that cotton-candy exterior. The witchy angle added a little touch of spice to her, too. He'd always thought of her as his.