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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Later that night, as she was preparing to go to the lacrosse game, Mia couldn't stop thinking about Scott's issue.
She, an Argent, was making the conscious decision to help a werewolf, her family's sole enemy for more than four hundred years. She was basically staining her entire legacy. But it wasn't fair - Scott had done nothing wrong, and she was following the code.
It didn't matter. Her only enemies were werewolves that attacked people and destroyed towns. Scott was an unfortunate boy who accidentally got caught up in the entire thing. She would rather help him get it under control than have her family kill him because she refused to help.
Mia decided to push those thoughts away for now and start getting ready. She freshened up and put on a dark red sweater on top of her school clothes. Jackson and Lydia had insisted that she wear the lacrosse team's colors, which was incredibly ridiculous, but she didn't mind the sweater if it would protect her from their nagging.
"Hey, you ready?" Allison's voice came from the hall, "Dad's waiting in the car."
Mia frowned, pausing in place. "Dad is going to the game?"
"Yeah," she smiled, blissfully unaware, "He said he wants to see Scott play."
"Oh," she managed to squeeze out a smile, although she was screaming on the inside.
She had made a mistake. She shouldn't have told her father about Derek. Talking about Derek had led to her almost exposing Scott, and even though she didn't, she stuttered, and that one stutter had ticked off Chris' suspicion.
"Let's go," she grabbed an extra memory card for her camera and left her room to join her sister and her dad in his car.
They arrived at the school. The parking lot was already full, parents, friends and teachers coming to the big game. Mia thought about checking up on the boys, but they were getting ready in the locker room and she wasn't allowed in.
"Allison, Mia! Over here!" she heard her name being called by the familiar sweet, sing-song-y voice of Lydia. She was walking over to her excitedly, holding rolled up posters under her arm.
"Hey," Mia smiled awkwardly at her. "What's all this?"
"I made posters," Lydia quipped proudly, showing her one of them, with Jackson's name painted on it, the paper stained with a bunch of glitter and markers. Mia tried her best to look impressed with it.
"Wow," she hummed, "Cool."
"Come sit over there," Lydia gestured to the bleachers, where she had saved seats for her family. Her dad nodded and made his way to the bleachers. Allison and Lydia turned to follow.
"Actually," Mia raised her camera up, "I'm on duty. Sarah is doing an article on this game, so I have to get some material for her."
"Boring," Lydia sighed dramatically, then smiled at her, "How many pictures of sweaty boys with sticks do you need? They will all look the same anyway. Just take a couple and then meet us there, 'kay?"
