Stacy & Hunt.

Stacy would consider herself more of a tomboy than anything. She was raised in the woods right alongside her 8 brothers. She could cut wood better than any one of them. She could shoot to kill.

The boy Stacy was dating knew nothing about anything country, and whenever he would start talking about it, Stacy would put her hand over her mouth and giggle. Hunt, the boy, lived smack in the center of a city. She thought about it, and a city was a place with more people who did things like go to the grocery store to buy chicken. She could imagine her mom going crazy over this. They had planned to get together over the summer break.

When the day arrived, she got on the plane with her hair tied back in a confederate bandanna, her jeans were worn (not the type you bought worn) and her shirt had a cross on it. She had never been on an airplane, but she wasn't phased, it wouldn't be a big deal.

She stepped off in Phoenix, and immediately spotted Hunt and his mom. She walked closer to them to see if he would recognize her. Sure he did. He came over and hugged her, she decided it was too warm for this. They drove as a family, home, to Hunt's apartment. She was uneasy, this was awkward. She set herself up in Hunt's room, Hunt told her he would sleep on the couch...yeah, right.

She started putting her disassembled pistol together, the one in her suitcase. She cleaned and oiled the barrel and started to sight it. Hunt and his mother walked in at the same time, as she was looking through the empty chambers, his mother shouted, "You can't bring that in here." If only she had bullets.