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𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. Desperate to quiet the buzzing anxiety in her chest, she grabbed a bottle of Tito's from Jay's office and took a hesitant sip. The second the vodka hit her tongue, she gagged and spat it out in the sink, coughing as the harsh taste clung stubbornly to her mouth.
From across the kitchen, Kim burst into laughter at the sight of Mia hunched under the faucet, furiously trying to rinse the burn away. It was the morning after her brutal hangover, and now she was spiraling over something arguably worse—meeting Embry's mother later that evening.
"Okay, that was a horrible idea," Mia groaned, wiping her mouth and giving Kim a sheepish look. Her hair was an unbrushed mess, sticking up in a way she couldn't quite tame, and her nerves were frayed to the edge. Thank God Kim had agreed to come over.
In truth, Mia had been texting Kim constantly since they met. Something about her calm energy and shared outsider perspective had clicked right away. So when the dreaded dinner loomed and Mia had no idea what to wear—or how to keep herself from freaking out—she called the only other girl she knew who wasn't preoccupied with sparkly vampire drama.
"So, who's the lucky guy whose mom you're trying to impress?" Kim asked as the two of them migrated into Mia's room. She perched on the edge of the bed, already bracing herself for the story.
But Mia avoided the question, choosing instead to dig through her closet like her life depended on it. She tossed top after top over her shoulder in frustration, trying to strike a perfect balance between cute and respectable. Within minutes, the bed—and Kim's lap—were buried in discarded outfits.
"Okay, this chaos you're creating? It needs to stop," Kim declared, wriggling beneath the pile. "I think a coat hanger just stabbed me in the ass."
Mia let out a small laugh and collapsed next to her, exhaling a deep sigh. "Okay, fine. It's Embry. He's... I'm his imprint."
Silence dropped between them like a pin. Then, without warning, Kim let out a high-pitched squeal that could have shattered glass. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of excited questions—When did it happen? Had they kissed yet? Why hadn't Mia told her sooner?
Mia waited for her to settle down before answering, her voice softening. "It happened a few months ago. We didn't tell anyone—not even Sam. I was scared Jay would lose his mind, or that the others would think it was too soon. I don't even know why I felt like I had to keep it a secret... Embry never told me to hide it."
Kim's smile faded slightly, a flicker of sympathy crossing her face. Her own imprint with Jared had been simple. No complicated guardians. No heavy emotional baggage. Mia noticed the shift instantly and buried her face in a pillow.
"Please don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" Kim replied, feigning innocence.
"All soft and crap. It's freaking me out," came Mia's muffled response.
Kim snorted and yanked the pillow away, grabbing Mia's arm and tugging her over to the vanity. "Look, your secrets are safe with me. But here's the truth—you won't find peace if you keep running from this. You like him. That's not something to be scared of. Now sit your dramatic ass down so I can fix your hair before Mama Call meets Hurricane Mia."
Both girls dissolved into laughter as Kim set to work, brushing and styling with practiced hands. Somewhere between the hair spray, borrowed jacket, and flurry of gossip, Mia found herself relaxing. It felt good, having someone in her corner who got it. Who understood the weird, tangled mess of imprinting and teen emotions and big life shifts.
After a dab of lip gloss and a spritz of perfume, Mia felt... almost ready.
Almost.
With Kim's words echoing in her ears and a few blurry selfies now saved on her camera, she stepped out of the car and approached the porch, nerves churning in her stomach. She smoothed down her sundress and knocked softly on the door.
It swung open moments later, revealing Embry's warm smile. He looked relieved to see her, eyes bright as he took her jacket and ushered her inside. Mia barely had time to process the comfort of his presence before another figure entered the room.
Tiffany Call looked so much like her son, it was jarring—same eyes, same skin tone, same quiet strength. Though there were faint lines of worry etched across her face, she greeted Mia with a warm smile.
"I brought apple pie," Mia blurted, nerves making her words spill out in a rush. "Store-bought, not homemade. I nearly burned water once, so... yeah. Kitchen disasters. But Embry said it was your favorite."
To her relief, Tiffany laughed and wrapped her in a hug, the kind that instantly made her feel welcome. As she pulled back, she gave her son a quick glance, mouthing something only he could catch.
"She's the one."
And just like that, Mia's tension faded. This wasn't just bearable—it felt right.
