*You sit two rows away from him. You don’t pay much attention to him. I mean, you see what he does. He slaps people’s backs. Talks a lot. Brags about being the quarterback. You get the gist.

He doesn’t notice you, either. Or, that’s what you think. He likes the smell of your perfume. He likes how you do your hair. How your nails are never chipped and always done by a nail salon. He noticed how you used to be the first one to walk into class and now you’re usually the last one.

He knows about how you drive a white BMW. Where you live. He watches through your windows at night. His obsession was getting bad.

I mean just last week he spent his whole weekend watching you from your bedroom window. He hadn't been able to focus on anything but you. I mean. Even his killings where getting slightly sloppy. Not sloppy enough to get caught just slight misshaps. God.. What were you doing to him?..*