The right time for murder

Chapter 1

It was a rainy day outside. I could hear the drips, smell the wet ground mixed with the fumes of the passing cars and feel the constant bombardment on my back. It was heavy and getting increasingly so. I pulled my hood over my thick blonde hair and ran for shelter.
I saw a nearby subway station and although I had no idea where I was going, hurried down the wet slippery steps.
Things got drier the further down I went. I noticed that although it was raining above, down below it was dry and warm. Too warm for me. The heat pressed down on all sides, seemingly trapping me in a box that I couldn't get out of. I carried on, refusing to go back out into the rain. I finally reached the platform and stared at the subway map. I found where I was, and saw the line I needed to ride to get to my favourite coffee shop. I sighed. 5 minutes until it got here. 5 minutes more in this pressing  heat. It was becoming unbearable. I decided the less I moved around the better. I reluctantly sat down next to a half eaten pizza and shuffled over to the edge of the bench. Hours later, (really only 5 minutes) the tube pulled up. It didn't look like a train back home. It was long, longer than the platform and was made out of a shiny silver metal. There were some windows and doors leading to every carriage.
I stood and walked briskly over to the train. I slipped through the doors just as they closed and found that the carriage was packed. It seemed everyone had decided to travel at the same time as me. Then I remembered the rain and realised that it was why everyone was using the subway. I found an empty area to stand in and gripped tightly onto the metal pole next to me.
My stop was a long way away. The last on the line. I looked around at some of the people around me. Sitting below me was an elderly lady, in her seventies gripping her walking stick in one hand while rooting through an old leather bag with the other. Her face was rounded and wrinkled but she had kind eyes and smile lines around her mouth. She saw me looking, glanced up and smiled at me. I smiled back before turning my attention to the young man sitting next to her.
He looked around my age, 17, and had brown hair that was styled in a messy way. He was dressed in a suit, one or two sizes to big for him and wore a blue tie loosely around his neck. He stared out of the window at the complete black passing by. Whenever we passed a station he would nervously glance up, checking it wasn't his stop.
After a few stations he realised I was standing there. My cheeks suddenly flushed as he looked at me. I knew I must have looked a mess, after the day I'd had, my hair was coming out of the ponytail I had tied earlier that morning, my mascara was running slightly from the recent rain and my clothes had wet patches all over them. He on the other hand looked perfect. Nothing was wet from the rain, his hair, while messy, suited his face well and his jacket complimented his eyes perfectly. They were green by the way, like mine.
He stood slowly and motioned for me to take his seat. I nodded my thanks and in turn, got a smile from him. I sat down and tried to turn my attention away from him. In this effort, I took out a book and focused my mind on reading it.