Today started off as an ordinary day until Marissa Wakefield walked into the bookstore a few minutes ago. I took this job because I like to watch people. Okay, that sounded bad. I don’t do it in a creepy way, not like a stalker. It’s just habit, and part of my study as a psychology major. You can learn a lot from observing people.

For instance, just from watching her, I can tell she’s confident, intelligent, and takes pride in her looks. I’ve seen her around campus plenty of times and have been ‘observing’ her for quite some time.

She has the good girl act down pat, but she’s not fooling me. I love good girls who are bad in the bedroom, and I can tell that she definitely fits the bill. She’s one of the sorority sisters at Mi Alpha Alpha and I’ve heard all about their wild parties. Abby, the resident stoner, likes to talk—maybe a bit too much. She’s always coming into the bookstore and the funny thing is, people love to talk if you’ll just listen. I’m always happy to lend her a listening ear. Abby’s constantly spilling tidbits about what goes on behind closed doors.

I was surprised when I found out Marissa was part of the sorority because I didn’t peg her as the type at first but after watching her for a few months, it was easy to see how she’d fit in. She’s very outgoing and quite popular. I’d imagine it’s because of her looks, she’s very beautiful, and all of the charity work that she’s always participating in.

It was one of the first things that caught my attention when she began coming in on a regular basis. She usually needs to have flyers made for the various charity work that she’s doing. I admire that about her, I truly do. Most people in today’s world are only out for themselves, doing what benefits them the most, but I can tell that she cares.

Technically, we’re not supposed to make copies of flyers for other students but I always make an exception when it comes to Marissa. I could never tell her no. Besides, how would you tell someone with a big heart who’s going out of her way to help feed the homeless, raise money for the needy, and increase awareness about diseases that you can’t make a few copies for her since it’s against policy? That’d be a total dick thing to do.

But I think she knows the rules because she always seems to come in when I’m working when she asks for the flyers, and that’s what I’m talking about. Good girls being bad. She knows the policy but when it comes to something she wants or needs, she’s willing to ignore it. That tells me that she likes to take risks, and I’m all for giving her rewards.

Her long, silky blonde hair cascades over her shoulders. She always wears it perfectly straight and the light reflects off of it because it’s always so shiny. It’s perfect.

She’s perfect.

One of her sorority sisters, Lola, waves at her, diverting her attention away from me. I know she’s going to ask me to make copies for her because she has papers in her hands, but she sighs before her feet change direction and she heads toward Lola instead.

I try not to listen, I really do, but it’s impossible. Lola is such a brat. She’s so loud and her voice is like nails on a chalkboard when I listen to her talk. I’m not sure how anyone stands her. She’s bitching at Marissa for not coming to one of their sorority parties last night. That’s when I overhear her apologizing for not coming as she explains how she was getting some of the details in place for their upcoming charity event.

I knew it. She wants more flyers for another charity event. Don’t worry, Marissa, I’m at your service.

Helping her is all part of my plan. She probably thinks I don’t notice her, but she’s wrong. I might’ve stretched the truth a bit when I said I don’t stalk her, but I promise, there’s no ill intent. When a girl like her walks into your life, you don’t let her go.

When I transferred here last year, I ran into her by accident—right here at the campus bookstore. One look at her and I knew that I had to have her, and that’s when I started plotting. Our majors are completely different so we don’t have any classes together, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. My mom always told me that when you want something, you go after it—and I definitely want Marissa. I’ve learned everything there is to know about her sorority, paid attention to all of her bratty and slutty sorority sisters, memorized her schedule, and have taken an interest in her extracurricular activities. Once I found out about her charity work and her mission to help children, I was head over heels with her.

There was a guy who worked here full-time. He opened and closed the place every day, Monday through Friday. His name was Stephen and he insisted that it was pronounced ‘Steffon’. He tried to be exotic and over-the-top but nobody bought into his act. I had him fired once I was hired. One awesome benefit of studying psychology is knowing how to get inside people’s heads.

Our boss—who’s obsessed with her personal life—is far too busy to care about what goes on here, so I had to make sure I did everything in my power to get that jackass out of here. He’d never help Marissa the way that I do and I didn’t like the way he talked to girls. Steffon was a creep. He tried to take advantage of his position here and looked at all the girls like a cheap piece of meat.

Girls are to be respected, loved, and cared for—not regarded like a marked down piece of steak. I couldn’t stand him or the way he behaved when the college girls would come in so I made sure he’d lose his job with no chance of ever coming back. Was it wrong to say he stole money and sold text books on the side to pocket the cash? Yeah, it was, but with him out of the picture, it ensured that I worked more hours and improved my chances with Marissa. And so far, it’s paying off because she primarily comes in while I’m working since I’m the closest thing we have to a full-time person. I’m here 30 hours per week, mostly working evenings, which means I’m here to help her every time she needs me.

After Lola dismisses her by scoffing at her and making a hideous face at Marissa, she finally turns on her heels and heads in my direction. I try to pretend to busy myself with a stack of books on the counter but I clumsily spill my coffee, making a huge mess.