𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍
𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎
𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛
Amelia Sealgair, better known and Amy, has lived most of her life in the town of Beacon Hills...
f o r t y s e v e n s t i l e s ' s f i r s t g a m e
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THE GAME STARTED. Amelia was holding on to her jersey with a smile, biting her lip as she watched one of the players pass the ball to Stiles.
She smiled widely, but that smile faded away when one of the opposite team player's knocked him to the ground after he took too long to play, making Amelia hiss in pain.
She knew Stiles wasn't the best at lacrosse yet, she didn't expect him to be this bad.
"Now I understand why were you surprised he even got in the field," said Dahlia. "Should we take these numbers off our faces or...?"
"Shut up... I believe in him. He's probably just warming up."
But the next time, he took too long to take the ball and two of the opposite team players took him down, making Amelia close her eyes while the crowd all grunted in pain.
"He's just a little nervous?" Assumed Lizzie as Lydia sat next to her at the end of the bench, and Amelia nodded.
"He's just nervous. It's his first time playing. Plenty of time to turn it around."
She believed in him, she had to. He was her boyfriend, and there was no one else she believed more in than her boyfriend. Stiles had been practicing, and she trusted that he was going to be great.
"He's gonna die," mentioned Dahlia. "Am I the only one noticing that he's gonna die?"
And it was the same situation. Over and over again. Stiles was terrible at lacrosse and Amelia couldn't help but to lay her chin on the palm of her hand while watching the game, hissing in pain every time Stiles got hit.
One time, the ball hit him in the head instead of catching it with the stick, making the whole crowd start booing at him.
"He sucks," commented Dahlia. "And I don't even understand the game."
"You have a very charming cousin there, Amy," told her the sheriff sarcastically and she scoffed.
"Tell me about it," she replied with the same sarcasm, starting to bit her own white acrylic nails as she watched the game, nervously.
Amelia could sense the smell of now two wet dogs, so she looked towards the bleachers were Scott was, noticing that now there were two players.
Scott and Isaac. That only made her smile widely, her nerves almost fading away.
He came to help after all. He decided to stick around.
