First Stop, Friends

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Rachel

"Are you guys okay?" I frown. "I hate to be the reason you two are fighting"

He shakes his head. "No it's okay, I promise. He's just a douche"

A pretty hot one.

"You sure?" I ask.

He chuckles and nod. "Yes"

I smile.

**

"YES YES YES!!" I jump around in excitement.

"You're cute" I hear laughing behind me and I turn to see Tucker Archer...

I turn red of embarrassment. "You didn't see that"

He laughs. "I did. What are you so excited about?"

"I have a horse show this weekend! I can't wait because it's the first of show season!" I squeal.

He slightly smiles and I blush. "So we good? No hard feelings yea?" he asks.

"I'm sorry for hating you, i was just mad you crashed into me. No hard feelings anymore. I haven't saw the side you're hiding from me yet, but I hope to. You seem like a good guy, Tucker" I say softly.

He shakes his head. "No I'm not, I promise you. I kill kids. I kill their parents in front of them. I'm a killer. I'm a dickhead. I'm an asshole, and I'm just here to tell you that... I'm gonna pay for you car fees"

"No that wasn't apart of the deal. You just kill my dad and that's all. You have no need to-"

He cuts me off by kissing me.

My eyes widen. "Shut up and take the check" he puts a check in my hand before walking out.

Holy fuck...

Why?

I run outside. "Wait! Tucker!"

He turns to me. "Yea?"

"Are we... friends?" I ask.

He smiles. "Sure"

"Then would you like to come to my horse show this weekend?" I nervously play with my fingers.

"Will Enzo be there?" he asks and I nod, even though I already know his answer. "Maybe. Text me the address" he winks and gets into his car.

I blush and turn around, running into the house.

"What are you so giddy about?" Kayla walks in chuckling.

"I have... friends" I slightly smile.

"Aw love! I'm happy for you!!" she squeals.

"With the Archers?" Gavin asks out of nowhere and I nod. "All I ask is be careful. They're manipulative"

"Daddddd, you never met them. If anyone is, it has to be Tucker. He's... different" I look up.

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