Amelia 'Mia' Argent has been raised to fear the supernatural. Coming from a long lineage of werewolf hunters, she is being trained to hunt and one day become the leader of her team. But when her family moves to Beacon Hills in search for an Alpha, t...
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The crowd around them was closing in. Mia felt like she was in a boxing ring, except she had been placed there by mistake, because she wasn't fighting anyone.
The two girls that were shit-talking her and her sister were going at it now. One of them - the one Mia had somehow influenced, she was realizing - was punching, kicking, clawing at her friend's face, like a rabid dog with not actual motivation to hurt somebody. The other girl, covering her face with her hands, was yelling at her to stop.
"Hey, hey!" someone was shouting. Mia recognized one of the teachers' voice. She tried to mix back into the crowd, but they weren't letting her.
As the teacher parted through the group of students, looking at the chaos that had erupted, someone grabbed Mia's hand and pulled her out of his line of vision. The girl shouldered her way out until both she and her savior were farther away from the spectacle.
"Thanks," she murmured absentmindedly, still thinking about how she'd wished the girl to punch her friend moment before it happened. She raised her eyes to excuse herself and leave, but then recognized the boy in front of her. "Isaac, right?"
Isaac seemed surprised that she knew his name, "Oh, yeah."
Mia tried her best to smile, "Sorry, I remember you from lacrosse. I'm the one always taking pictures for the newspaper during the games, but I'm guessing you don't know me from that."
She was right, but at least Isaac looked sincerely embarrassed, "Yeah. Sorry, you and Allison are basically what everyone's been talking about. And the other girl..."
"Lydia?" she supplied.
"Yeah," he nodded, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "I'm sorry about what happened. I don't–I don't want you to think that I think that you're–well–"
"A crazy serial killer in the making?" she said, watching in amusement as Isaac got even more flustered. She felt bad for him, so she dropped the teasing and cleared her throat, "Yeah. Thanks for not being an asshole, I guess."
The boy calmed himself down and smiled. He looked like a cute puppy, but the bruise on his eye raised some suspicions. Even though they weren't friends, Mia had noticed that Isaac was often sporting black eyes, bruised cheekbones, sometimes even a limp. More often that lacrosse-related injuries tended to happen.
"Sorry for grabbing you, by the way, I just didn't want you to get in trouble with Mr. Anderson. You didn't start the fight, so."
Mia cracked a smile at the irony of his statement, but let it go. The hallway crowd had cleared, so she turned to leave. "Thanks, Isaac. See you around."
✧ ✧ ✧
"Ready?" Mia asked, grabbing her sister's hand tightly.
