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Ain't No Rest for the Wicked
The knocking at the front door made my heart leap out of my chest. If I could see this scene in a movie, it would be that moment that two people meet in the rain and confess their love for one another.
I yelled for the person to come in, hoping to see that classic style of Max's. Dark jeans, a crisp black short sleeve shirt, and those baby blue eyes.
"Well, hello there Tara. Long time no see. Just going to ditch your closest friends from high school because you moved a few hours south of Los Angelos?" Jamie's slime ball of a grin made my stomach churn. "You don't look to happy to see me. Or able to run away this time. It's my lucky day."
Jamie was a druggie that hung around with my group of friends. My old high school was the type of place where if you could get a leg up by cheating, you did it. Ivy league schools or at least somewhere prestigious such as Pepperdine, Stanford, UCL, MIT, or NYU were the goal. If your family didn't have the money
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