Infatuation

I knew more about her for never having spoken to her. We didn't need to. Because the way she looked at me sometimes, that said it all. She wanted me. She didn't mind that I'd stop by her apartment late, or that I'd watch her sleep, buried under her gray blanket, while the stars strung around her room blinked on and off to the rhythm of her breathing.

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8. Avery

Something was wrong with Adam. I saw it in his face, in his posture.

He was in pain.

I looked after him as he exited the coffee shop, muttering about having a headache, feeling sick, and having to leave.

Next to me, Devon said, "That was weird. What do you think his problem was?"

"Stress?" I offered. "I don't really know him too well. I've seen him around here a lot the past few months, but just started talking to him a while ago. He seems nice."

"Maybe he did it," Devon suggested, her brown eyes wide. "Maybe he killed Alexa."

I frowned. "Stop it. He's a nice guy."

"But you don't really know about about him, do you?" she asked.

As I ordered another cup of coffee, this time to go, I said, "No, I suppose I don't. But what makes you think he could have anything to do with her death? He said he didn't know her."

"Sometimes the killers don't need to know their victims."

That much was true. I'd known enough from watching Law & Order marathons. But I didn't say anything.

"We should hang out," Devon said as she gathered her things. "You know, after class one day. Maybe watch some movies."

She told me her number, and I put it into my phone.

Then she was gone, and I was left with an unsettling feeling.

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