An average high school student and her best friend get caught up in some trouble causing her to receive a bite. As a result they find themselves in the middle of all sorts of dramas in their town.
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Not far from the mysterious woods, where wild creatures roam, sits a two-story home hidden beneath a thick canopy of trees. In an upstairs bedroom, a mischievous wind sneaks through an open window, carrying with it a scene of hilarious determination. There, two hands painstakingly thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. It's a slow and arduous process, as if each lace has a mind of its own, refusing to cooperate.
Completing the final loop of the intricate lacing, seventeen-year-old Amelia Gilbert proudly stands with the newly re-threaded stick in hand. Clad only in athletic shorts, her slender physique bears witness to the hours she dedicates to training for the lacrosse team.
You see, Amelia's dreams of lacrosse stardom are hampered by a minor detail—she's simply not good at it. Her attempts to make the team have resulted in a series of comical blunders, leaving her perpetually seated on the bench. It's not because she's a girl, mind you; her coach is insistent on him not being a sexist. No, it's because, well, she stinks. It's as if her stick has a magnetic attraction to everything except the ball, leading to an impressive display of unintentional slapstick humor on the field.
Scooping a ball up from her bedroom floor, Amelia gives the lacrosse stick a hesitant spin, testing her handiwork. Suddenly, a voice echoes from outside the open door.
"Kids, I'm off! Dinner's in the fridge!" Jenna yells out.
Caught off guard by the sudden interruption, Amelia's aim falters, and the ball she was handling goes careening off course, crashing into a nearby lamp and causing a loud shattering sound.
"Glue is in the cabinet!" Jenna adds, hearing the crash.
Amelia kneels down to pick up the shattered pieces as Jenna peeks into the room, her eyes widening at the broken lamp.
"I thought you gave up on lacrosse," Jenna remarks, a mix of surprise and concern evident in her voice.
"I didn't quit. I just... don't really play," Amelia sighs, holding the broken pieces gingerly in her hands.
Jenna considers her niece's words, her expression filled with a combination of understanding and empathy.
"Have you ever considered quitting?" Jenna asks, her voice gentle yet probing.
"Jenna..." Amelia sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and determination welling up within her.
"Just want you to be happy. High school is supposed to be fun. You should be out there, chasing after boys," Jenna says, her tone attempting to inject some light-heartedness into the conversation.
Amelia can't help but let out a wry chuckle, despite her current predicament.
"Well, I'm not having much luck with that either," she confesses, a hint of self-deprecating humor coloring her words.
Realizing the impact her words may have had, Jenna quickly shifts gears, aiming to uplift Amelia's spirits.
"Alright, I should probably stop before I completely demolish your self-esteem. Don't worry, Junior year is always better. I promise," Jenna reassures her, her voice filled with sincerity.
