When Lydia Martin is 6 and hears her mother complaining about how her daughter just doesn't like any girly things and always walks around with scabby knees and a book instead, Lydia takes her scabby knees and her books and her intelligence and packs it all away. Her mom will be happy if she likes lip gloss and dresses instead of books and jeans so that's what she will like.
When Lydia is 13, people assume that she's straight. Lydia has known she doesn't like boys since she was 8 and known she likes girls since she was 10; she just sees no reason to advertise it. Her mother's high society friends have been pressing her about what boys she found cute and who was decidedly not cute and did she have a boyfriend? The boys must be falling all over themselves to get close to her. And so she always evades the question or starts talking about how so-and-so kissed so-and-so at the Cliffs last weekend and oh my it's such a scandal! teen pregnancy haven't you heard? how could Miranda and Jake have been so careless? And she thinks about saying that the girl that sits in front of her in English is quite attractive or that she has a minor crush on that brunette in Advanced Geometry because she may no longer show her intelligence but she will be going to an Ivy League school that has the prettiest brown eyes every time but then she thinks about her mom and how disappointed she would be that her daughter isn't girly enough but she would never be girly enough she would never be enough for her mother not for her mother who drinks herself into a stupor between tea parties. So Lydia keeps how pretty she finds girls to herself just like she does with everything and says yes when Jackson Whittemore asks her on a date. If nothing else she could learn how to kiss.
At 15, Lydia Martin knows how to kiss. She can kiss well if Jackson's groans too deep too much stubble too hard beneath her hands are anything to go by. She's never kissed a girl but she's done a lot with Jackson and her mother looks at her with something that Lydia can almost imagine is pride while Lydia waits at the bottom of the steps with her heels high, makeup done, hair perfect. She's smart and she's beautiful and her father makes up for leaving her with her mother by giving her a credit card that doesn't really have a limit if it has one she has yet to find it and she's miserable because she doesn't want to be with Jackson and his stupidly high cheekbones and his body that looks like something from a magazine. She wants someone with soft skin and softer lips, with bright eyes and who is female. Stilettos are too uncomfortable to want to wear every day and shopping is fun but only when you like the things you're buying which, usually, she doesn't.
When Lydia Martin is 16 werewolves are real, she's a banshee, Jackson has scurried off to London with his tail between his legs, and Allison is Lydia's best friend.
The people in the supernatural know are also in the know about her intelligence due to Stiles Stilinski's crush on her so she doesn't have to hide that. She is content and her mother isn't exactly happy but she certainly isn't upset because her daughter may not have a rich boyfriend anymore but Lydia is still number one in her class and still looks perfect whenever she leaves the house it isn't even really home anymore. Everything is as bland and empty as the words 'the house' imply. Lydia's mom still doesn't know anything about her daughter but Allison knows almost everything and one night at the end of the summer right before junior year Allison knows everything and holds Lydia as she sobs and Allison doesn't care. Allison doesn't care that Lydia wants a girl with soft skin instead of a guy with harsh stubble, Lydia's still her best friend and then they watch the Notebook before falling asleep and everything is fine. The world keeps turning and Lydia Martin is content.
At 17, Allison dies in her first love's arms with goodbyes ringing in the silence.
Suddenly, Lydia decides to do what Allison had been telling her to do since she knew everything. Lyds, you gotta do what's best for you. Not what's best for your mom, you. Lydia Martin takes hold of her life and doesn't let go, driving out of town to go to clubs and parties, she goes online and makes a Tumblr account where she can indulge in her interest and be intelligent and meet new people. She becomes more involved with the Pack and stays on top of her class. She doesn't want to lose contact with her mother completely when she goes to college so she stays a part of the popular group, dragging Scott and Stiles with her. Eventually Malia and Kira join the group and Lydia has to clean blood from underneath her nails sometimes and Allison being gone still aches on good days and throbs in time with her pulse on bad ones because she was her first friend and her best friend, her sister, and Kira and Malia can't ever replace that and she doesn't want them to. But it's as good as it's gonna get right now so Lydia is fine.
When she's 18, she sends an application to Columbia University and gets in as a junior with a scholarship. She tells her mom that she's gay and promptly puts her mother's crestfallen face and harsh words always have to be special don't you don't care about how your choices affect me at all into the same corner of her mind that she put her scabby knees and books when she was younger. She meets with her father and tells him and he accepts her with a kind smile and warm eyes. They go their separate ways and email each other 5 times a year.
She spends the summer with the Pack and goes to New York City feeling like a weight has been taken off her shoulders. She goes to parties and becomes friends with her roommate. She Skypes with the Pack every week.
Lydia is 19 and a senior in college. She dates and sleeps around. Her grades are near perfect and she learns how to fight from a guy who is ex-Special Forces. Everything is perfect but Lydia is bored. Lydia gets so bored that she takes up archery and learns two more languages. Archery makes her feel close to Allison again and while she isn't as good as Allison is was because Allison is dead she has been for years she'll never come back god it's been years why does it still hurt so much she's still good and she can see why Allison was so in love with it.
Lydia is 21 and tends bar in between working on her Master's and learning how to handle various guns. She spends Sunday mornings working in her favorite coffee shop, a place that's not too far away from the Columbia campus. She hasn't had a long term relationship since Jackson, nothing has really worked out, but she still goes out at least once a month. She still Skypes with the Pack, every other week now that most of them are busier with senior classes.
Lydia is 22 and in the first year of her Doctorate when she sees a truly gorgeous woman walk into the coffee shop. A man walks into her and the woman doesn't move at all, regardless of her five inch heeled platform boots. The man staggers back a bit, but merely continues on his way after glaring at her shortly. Lydia takes in a short breath at the sight - the woman is supernatural then. She's had more than one run-in - not all supernatural all evil and the major cities are typically neutral- but she hasn't had more than a handful of violent encounters in the five years that she's been living in New York. But she still tenses and places a hand on the dagger in her purse. Beacon Hills has left its mark after all.
The woman orders and waits at the counter for her drink. She takes a breath and Lydia can see the moment that her scent hits her because the woman straightens and her eyes snap to Lydia. A smile curls Lydia's lips, slow and predatory, and the woman's matches it. She takes her drink and moves to sit in the armchair across from Lydia, separated by five feet and a low table.
"Banshee," she greets.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know what I am, but I don't know about you," Lydia responds, her voice sweet but her eyes hard.
The woman dips her head the tiniest bit and says, "Katherine Arioch, weretiger."
Lydia raises her brows in a grudging kind of interest before saying, in a thinly veiled request for more information, "Lydia Martin. I've never met a weretiger before."
A smile blooms on Katherine's face, small but genuine. It's the start of something.