Killing Me Softly: A Thriller Romance Novel

Chapter 1

DELILAH

You have to care about people. You care about people; they care about you back. It's as simple as that, isn't it? The problem is I stopped caring about people a long time ago. Caring what they say. Caring what they do. Caring what they thought of me. The moment I start caring about someone, I start becoming obsessive and pedantic, overthinking every little thing and every little detail about our relationship. I usually don't like who I am with other people.

Maybe I've conditioned myself not to care. In turn, I've lost my passion for people, for life. I don't do much anymore. Just go to work and come home. I don't do much in between. Now that I'm older, it's like, what's the point?

What the hell is wrong with me?

Looking back on my youth, I feel like I've wasted a lot of it away on bullshit. Going to school and work, not making friends, lovers, or boyfriends. And completely staying the hell away from people—guys especially—because all I ever knew of them was hurt, pain, and disappointment, starting with my dad and stepdad.

I spent most of my youth in my bedroom, keeping my door locked and my family out. I'd kept all the drunken arguments and domestic wars at bay by keeping a door between my parents and me. Every now and then, I was the target, usually for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but I mostly bobbed and weaved out of the way to avoid getting hurt.

I was a kid. What did I know? Most of the time, absolutely nothing. So, I kept to myself, my mouth shut and my head down. I didn't say anything to anybody, much like I still do to this day.

I hide behind the screen of my laptop and phone now, doing my best to stay hidden while I scroll through social media sites and envy the rest of the bold, bright spirits of this world. The ones who are successful and unafraid to show their faces. The ones who now have successful businesses, families, and statuses. The beautiful faces that smile for their own cameras and post every minute of their lives online for all to see.

I envied people like that. I studied people like that. Why couldn't I be somebody like that? Somebody who everyone knew and liked. Someone who played their cards right, and everything fell into place for them early in life. Those are the lucky ones—the chosen.

I know someone like that. Someone I've watched for a very, very long time. Someone I've followed and watched closely since high school.

His name is Theodore Edward Jameson--Theo, for short--and I have been in love with him since the ninth grade when I first laid eyes on him in AP biology class.

Another thing about me is that I've always been a geek. A nerd. A nobody. Someone guys like Theo didn't seem to notice. I sat in front of him for an entire year in class, and he still never knew I existed. We had exchanged words here and there for assignments, but I couldn't talk to him about anything else. I was always much too bashful and tongue-tied to speak my mind, so I always kept it short with him.

I've been watching him, even to this day.

I watched Theo date two girls in high school. Cheerleaders and preppy types, mostly. Well-groomed girls with loving parents and normal lifestyles. Girls who knew who they wanted to be right out of high school while I remained behind the scenes, lost and wishy-washy about every little decision I made. Girls who dated Theo knew exactly who they were: winners of the world. They wanted to go to Yale or Harvard to be lawyers and doctors, while I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life back then. I didn't think that far ahead.

Theo seemed to know what he wanted to do right out of high school. He instantly applied and quickly got a full-ride football scholarship to Princeton during his senior year of high school for physical education. Lo and behold, Theo wanted to be a gym teacher.