I had always been an ordinary person. I was an average-looking girl who got mediocre grades at school. I had dreams that I wanted to achieve and some hobbies that I loved doing. I had a few good friends. I was just like everyone else.

The only thing that set me apart from others was that I was a murderer.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It all started that one fateful day in October. The air was chilly, the weather preparing itself for the arrival of winter. That was the first time Nixon had been late to class, and as fate would have it, no other seat was available except for the one right next to me.

I think it was fate. We never would've crossed paths otherwise.

He sat down next to me, a massive grin on his face.

"Hey, Amara," he said. I wasn't surprised that he knew my name. Many people knew me, and many more knew him. But we ran in completely different circles.

I nodded in response; I wasn't good at talking to people that I had never talked to before.

As soon as he was in his seat, I noticed how his eyes darted around, taking a quick sweep of the classroom - an agitated expression on his face. Then it melted away; his eyes fixated on someone a few seats in front of me.

Nadija Petrova.

Everyone knew about Nixon and Nadija. They were both players. Nixon had been in love with Nadija for years, but Nadija had an on-and-off boyfriend. That, however, didn't stop her from leading Nixon on, though. Whenever she wasn't with her boyfriend, she was with Nixon, and then she would leave him again to go back to her boyfriend. It had been going on for years, but Nixon never learned. No matter how many girls he dated, his heart was fixated on Nadija.

I cleared my throat and lowered my head. I did not wish to be caught up in their drama.

"What?"

I looked towards Nixon, who had asked that question. He had a strange look on his face like he was planning something.

I raised my eyebrows, "What do you mean 'what'?"

He frowned, and I got the impression he was going to say something, but then the teacher started talking.

He didn't talk to me after that. But that calculating look never left his face, and his eyes never left Nadija.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Amara! Get over here!" Jenna, my best friend, shouts at me from the corner of the cafeteria. I noticed that all of my friends were there, so I made my way over.

Our school, 'Cypress Institute', was pretty big, and unlike most schools, we had excellent cafeteria food. That was one of the reasons why the lunch break was my favourite part of the day; the other being my friends, whom I shared very few classes with.

They were talking about the new movie that had come out, but I was not very interested in the conversation. I kept thinking about Nixon and his situation with Nadjia. For some reason, my mind kept going back to that.

"Come take a walk with me," Jenna whispered to me, pushing her honey-brown hair away from her face.

I nodded, and we both got up from the table. Saying goodbye to the rest of our friends, we left the cafeteria.

"Something's on your mind," she started.

"I know,"

She chuckled at that. "Are you gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to torture it out of you?"

That got me to smile, but still, I did not tell her the truth. I don't know why, but I didn't feel like it was a significant enough matter to tell someone.

"I just had a bad day," I said.

But it was no good lying to Jenna; she knew me too well.

"Looks like I will have to torture it out of you," she said, slowly inching forwards with her arms raised towards my waist.

I squealed and jumped when she started tickling me, but thankfully the corridor was empty. I never liked creating a scene.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you if you let me go!" I shrieked.

She ceased her assault, and when I finally caught my breath, I saw her smiling smugly at me.

"You little-"

She tsked, "Now, now, Amara. We had a deal,"

I glared at her but told her about that morning nevertheless.

"It's Nixon," I told her.

"Nixon de Costa? Did that idiot do something to you?" she asked, sounding angry. I knew she wasn't afraid to stand up to anyone when it came to me. Not even Nixon.

As I said, Nixon had a reputation.

"He didn't do anything. He just sat next to me," I murmured.

She rolled her eyes, "Then what's the problem? I swear you're just a big baby sometimes. Don't overthink everything so much, okay? Now come on, I'm super hungry."

With that, she grabbed my hand and pulled me back the way we had come.

But all I could think about was how sad Nixon must be, being in love with someone he could never have.