Ethan was, Matt observed, totaly freaking out. The guy's usual cheerful composure had worn off, and he was supervising the initiation arrangements with the intensity of a dril sergeant.
"No!" he snarled from across the room. He darted over and slapped the leg of a girl who was standing on a chair and weaving roses through the welded metal V at the top of the central arch.
"Ouch!" she yel ed, dropping the roses to the floor.
"Ethan, what is your problem?"
"We don't put anything on the V, Lorelai," he told her coldly, and bent to pick up the flowers. "You must respect the symbols of the Vitale Society. It's a matter of honor.
When our leader final y joins us, we must demonstrate to him that we are disciplined, that we are capable." He shoved the roses back into her hands. "We don't do that by draping garbage al over the symbol of our organization." Lorelai stared at him. "I'm sorry. But I thought you were the leader of the Vitale Society, Ethan." Everyone had stopped working to watch Ethan's melt-down. Noticing that he was the center of attention, Ethan breathed deeply, clearly trying to regain his composure.
Final y he addressed them al , biting off his words sharply. "I am trying to prepare you al , and to prepare this chamber, for the initiation ceremony. For you." His voice was steadily rising as he glared around at them. "And this is when I learn that, despite al your promise, you're a bunch of incompetents. You can't even place a candle or mix some herbs without my help. We're running out of time, and I might as Welljust be doing everything myself." Matt glanced around at the other pledges. Their faces were shocked and wary. Like him, al along they had been looking up to Ethan and were flattered and encouraged by his praise. Now their role model had turned on them, and no one seemed to know how to react. Chloe, setting out candles by the arch, was anxious, her lips pressed together tightly. She looked quickly at Matt and then away, back toward Ethan.
"Just tel us what you want us to do, Ethan," Matt said, stepping forward. He tried to keep his voice level and soothing. "We'l do our best to make everything perfect." Ethan glowered at him. "You couldn't even get your friend Stefan to join us," he said bitterly. "One simple task, and you failed."
"Hey," Matt said, offended. "That's not fair. I got Stefan to come talk to you. If he's not interested, that's his decision. He doesn't have to join us."
"I question your commitment to the Vitale Society, Matt," Ethan said flatly. "And the conversation with Stefan Salvatore is not over." He walked straight past Matt, glancing briefly at the rest of the pledges gathered around him. "There's not much time, everyone. Get back to work." Matt could feel the beginnings of a headache starting at his temples. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he didn't want to join the Vitale Society after al .
"I could have this door open in a single second," Damon said irritably. "Instead we stand here, waiting." Meredith sighed and careful y wiggled the bobby pin in the lock. "If you force the door open, Damon, they'l know right away that someone broke into the campus security office. By picking the lock instead, we can keep a low profile. Okay?" The bobby pin caught on something, and she careful y slid it upward, trying to turn it to catch the pins of the lock so she could move the tumbler. Then the bobby pin bent, and she lost the angle. She groaned and dug into her bag for another bobby pin. "Twenty-seven weapons," she grumbled. "I brought twenty-seven separate weapons to col ege and not a single lock pick."
"Well, you couldn't be prepared for everything," Elena said. "What about using a credit card?"
"Being prepared for everything is sort of my job description," Meredith muttered. She sat back on her heels and stared at the door. The lock was pretty flimsy: not only Damon but either she or Elena could have easily forced it open. And yes, a credit card or something similar probably would work just fine. Dropping the bobby pin into her open bag, she took out her wal et instead and found her student ID.
The ID slid right into the crack between the door and the doorjamb, she gave it a careful little wiggle, and, bingo, she was able to easily slide the lock back and pul the door open. Meredith smiled over her shoulder at Elena, arching one eyebrow. "That was strangely satisfying," she said.
Once they were inside and the door was locked again behind them, Meredith checked to make sure the windows were covered, then flicked on the lights.
The security office was simply furnished: white wal s, two desks, each with a computer, one with a forgotten half cup of coffee on top, and a filing cabinet. There was a dying plant on the windowsil , its leaves dry and browning.
"We're sure that none of the officers are going to show up and catch us?" Elena asked nervously.
"I told you, I checked their routine," Meredith answered.
"After eight o'clock, al but one of the security guards on duty is patrol ing the campus. The one who isn't is sitting in the downstairs lobby of the administration building, keeping in radio contact with the others and helping students who lock themselves out of their dorms and stuff."
"Well, let's get it over with," Damon said. "I don't particularly relish the idea of spending the whole evening in this dismal little hole."
His voice sounded both Wellbred and bored, as usual, but there was something different about him. He was standing very close to Elena, so close that his arm was brushing against hers, and, as Meredith watched, his hand came up to touch Elena's back very lightly, just with his fingertips. There was a slight secretive curve to his mouth, almost as if Damon was even more pleased with himself than usual.
"Well?" he asked, gazing back at Meredith. "What now, hunter?"
Elena stepped away from him and knelt in front of the filing cabinet before Meredith could answer, sliding the top drawer open. "What was Samantha's last name? Her file's probably under that."