"The first thing you need to know is that caffeine, food, and alcohol are now your bestfiends, because they'll help keep your besties alive," Damon told her, placing a bottle of Bourbon, a mug of coffee, and a chocolate bar in front of her, waiting patiently for her to choose. She grabbed the coffee and chocolate, getting an approving nod for her efforts.

"Good girl. Alcohol is good, but only if you know how to hold your liquor,and you don't look like the type," wrong, you smug bastard. She could drink Tyler and Matt under the table.

"What type do I look like?" she asked, curiously, sipping at the heavenly coffee. It tasted so good, but it so wasn't what she wanted.

"You're a Barbie," he told her simply, giving an unrepentant shrug, "You probably do your homework right after school, cook dinner for your brother - Matt, wasn't it? and lets not forget Vicki - and then you go to bed. Am I right?"

"No. I am so not a Barbie, thank you -"

"You're right, Barbie's have bigger boobs, don't they?" he questioned, tilting his head to the side with mock curiosity, eye glued to her, admittedly not the largest, breasts.

"You have more dick in your personality than you do in your pants, I hope you realize that," she drawled, amused with his antics. She shouldn't be, she should probably be pissed, but it had been a long time since she'd been able to act like a proper bitch to anyone. And she never got any male attention, because Tyler had staked some sort of man protector claim on her virtue, and any guy worth looking at treated her like a Disney princess because of it.

Even if the attention Damon was giving her was bad, it was still there.

She was pathetic.

"That hurts," Damon placed a hand over his heart, face scrunched up in mock agony, "That hurts me deep."

"What can I say," she shrugged, "I'm good like that."

"I like you," Damon said suddenly, bracing his arms on the table, "You're funny. Much better company than Saint Stefan," he nodded seriously.

"Speaking of whom, where is he with my blood?"

Damon waved a hand, careless, "Who knows. Probably stopped for some food in the forest, the little bunny muncher."

"Oh, God," she breathed in dawning horror, "He's Edward Cullen, isn't he? And he wasn't me to be his Alice."

Damon snorted, "Not his Bella?"

"No, no. Elena is his Bella, right? They're dating, but he doesn't want to doom her to an eternity by his side, right? Because she's better than that, and she doesn't deserve to spend lifetimes growing with him. She deserves to spend one lifetime with him, withering and sagging with each passing day," she rambled. "I bet he spends his free time reading Shakespeare and idly musing about Machiavellian ideology."

"Got it in one," Damon snarked, winking at her.

"I'm back, so the two of you can stop gossiping about me," Stefan pointed out, suddenly in the room when just a second ago he wasn't.

"That is awesome," she said seriously, "One of you bitches has to teach me how to do that."

"That and so much more," Damon cooed.

"There's a cooler of blood in the kitchen," Stefan said, valiantly ignoring them. He was probably smarter than most, "I can get more when you start running low, but that should be enough get you through this week."

"Thank you," she said seriously, giving him a soft smile which he returned. "When can I have my phone?"

"Here," Damon tossed the Android onto the table. Clairissa squealed, snatching it with quick fingers.

"Oh, my poor baby, what did that mean man do to you? It's okay, mommy is here now, mommy has you," she cooed, cradling the cell phone to her chest.

"I sat on him," Damon told her viciously, "I sat on him and I wouldn't get up."

She gasped in horror, shrinking back into her chair. "What kind of monster are you?"

"The best kind, baby," he winked, taking a sip from his ever present tumbler of Bourbon.

"Demon," she hissed, scrolling through her missed calls. Twenty from Matt, Five from Tyler, and One from Elena? "Why would Elena call me?" she wondered out loud, switching over to her text messages.

Matty-Poo: C, plz call me. I'm worried bout u. were r u?

Matty-Poo: srsly, c. call me. u know i can't sleep if u rnt home.

Tyler Baby;) : where the hell r u? Matts been goin crazy. call him. or me. just. call someone, ok?

Matty-Poo: i called the sheriff. she's putting out a search party. plz be ok. i love u.

Matty-Poo: r u w/ vicki? i can't get ahold of her either. plz be ok, clairebear.

"I hope you don't mind that I told her," Stefan said, jerking her away from her text. "I figured you might need a girl to talk to. Is that okay?"

"No, yeah. It's fine," she murmured, distractedly, dialling Matt's number.

"Who are you calling?" Damon demanded, suddenly up in her space.

"My broth -"

"Claire? Oh, my God, Claire, are you okay? Jesus Christ, I've been so worried about you. I expect this from Vicki, but not from you," Matt's voice cracked at the end, and it wasn't from static. Clairissa felt her heart clench.

She had done that. She had made him worried.

"I'm so sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to," she whispered, fighting back tears.

"Just tell me where you are, okay? Come home."

"I can't," she shook her head even though he couldn't see her. Damon and Stefan were watching her intently, Stefan with worry and Damon with stilted curiosity.

"Why not?"

Because I've been turned into a vampire and I don't want to eat you. Because that would go over well. She sighed, running a hand through her hair and tugging on the ends. "I've been doing drugs," she blurted out. It was a bald faced lie, because she would never do drugs; Matt could barely handle Vicki doing them, let alone her.

"What?"

"I know, I know. It's so stupid, I realize that now. I'm - I'm getting better, I'm getting help. But I need to stay here, so I can get clean," Stefan gave her a wane, encouraging smile. "I'll try and call you every day, I promise. I won't be going to school, though. Do you think you can talk to the principal, see if I can have my assignments sent to me?"

Damon snorted, rolling his eyes, and muttered "Barbie" into his drink. Claire stuck her tongue out at him, not caring how immature it made her look.

"Yeah, of course. Anything for you, C," Matt paused, and she could hear a deeper voice in the background. Tyler, probably. "Why didn't you come to me about this?"

"I want to do this on my own," she told him firmly, "I got myself into this, it's my responsibility."

"You know I'm here for you."

"I know," she nodded, again, not caring that he couldn't see, "But I gotta go, okay? I love you. Tell Ty I love him, too."

"Yeah, I will. Love you, too."

"Tyler your boyfriend?" Damon asked after she'd hung up, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"No need to get jealous, Damon," she cooed, "I would never date Tyler, mostly because he's screwing Vicki."

"Good reason," he conceded. "Now, lets go get you some blood," he stood, and then he was gone.

"Someone needs to teach me that, pronto," she complained, jumping when Damon reappeared in front of her with a smirk. He held out a blood bag with a straw sticking out of it.

Clean eating, everyone. Just because you're the living dead doesn't mean you should forget your manners.

She snatched the bag from him, ignoring his wounded look. She had the straw in her mouth in seconds, moaning. "Holy shit, this is amazing," she breathed, sucking hard on the straw as sweet yet coppery blood filled her mouth.

"Go slow," Damon pulled the straw out of her mouth with a stern look that she returned with a glare, "It's all about controlling the hunger. You're better than your urges. Take small sips," he commanded, releasing the straw. Clairissa found herself following his order, drinking the blood with slow, methodical pulls.

"Good girl," he cooed. She kicked her foot out, hoping to catch him in the shin, but he dodge her bare foot nimbly.

"Almost," he condescended, "But not quite. We'll work on the reflexes tomorrow."

Kay-kay. There's the second chapter, my darlings. Comments, questions, correction - feel free to ask or tell. And again, this is a WIP, and I only have one other chapter correctly written.

Also, as for the name, I know it generally isn't spelled "Clairissa", nut that's how I prefer it. When I see "Clarissa", I cant help but say it with some sort of posh accent and it comes out like "Clah+R+issa" as compared to "Clair+issa". Just putting it out there.