born killer

chapter 1

I groan as I check the time, I've been sitting here for almost two hours for a bloody college interview. Hell! I don't even want to go to college, I have my plans, I'm just here to impress my mother, after all she was the one who applied, sigh.
I stand up and walk back and forth a few times, before taking my phone out and scrolling through, no messages, no friends, just as I like it, I sigh as I sit back down.
'Miss Bregoli, you can head down to the professors office, third door down to your left' the secretary announces. I stand up, adjust my shirt and walk down the hall, I push the door open and enter.
The office is painted white with pictures of some old fools laughing ridiculously on the walls, the professor sits at a mahogany desk. He isn't handsome, rather on the ugly side with a large belly, probably a drunkard. 'Have a seat, Miss Bregoli' he gestures to the seat opposite the desk. I walk towards him and sit, 'so, how old are you miss Bregoli?' He asks, acting as if it's not all written on my profile in his hands. 'I'm eighteen' I reply with a sour look, he looks at me briefly for a moment and continues to glance through my profile, after a couple of minutes, he looks at me and asks me the question my mom has been training me for, for the past couple of days, 'why should we admit you into our institution?' I stare at him trying to remember exactly how I was supposed to start, 'this is one of the best schools in the world' I start, ' and it would be a waste of time to go elsewhere, it's known that this school has one of the best law faculties in the world, plus an impeccable social environment, and it would be an honor to gain admission into your reputable institution' I breathe out, it wasn't that hard after all. The professor just stares at me for a few minutes and tells me they would get back to me, taking that as the end of the interview, I stand up and walk out the door.
Outside, I take a deep breath before walking to my car, I drive a red Subaru, a gift from my mom's sister on my 17th birthday. Once in my car, I take out a cigarette and smoke it before starting the car. I start driving home, before I change my mind and decide to go for a drink at Fred's place.
Fred is my cousin and best friend he owns a bar streets away from my place. As I sit, drinking a vodka at the bar, I watch a couple fondling each other. Gross! Why do
people feel comfortable exchanging saliva with other people, surely it is not even healthy. Someone slips into the seat beside me, I turn to study him.... Or her, I can't say. Definitely a she, slender fingers. She's wearing a long coat with these rubber boats. She smells like lavender, I can't say the color of her hair cause she's wearing this bowler hat, red I think. She orders a martini, and maybe she notices me staring at her, because she turns giving me her attention, 'can I help you?' Her voice is like caramel and honey, odd. She looks at me strangely for another minute and turns back to her drink, as if to say 'stare till you drop'.
I stand up and motion Fred over as I head into the store room,
'who's that lady sitting with the bowler hat?' I ask
'dunno, don't care' he shrugs
'come on, Fred' I push,
'I'm serious Beth, I don't know, she comes here every Monday and Thursday'
I pat him on the shoulder and start to walk out, but he holds me back, 'why do you care?'
'Oh, nothing, just curious' I shrug and walk out into the bar, she's still sitting there, as I pass her, she glances at her watch and orders another cup of martini.
Outside, I sit in my car waiting for her to exit, something about her is drawing me to her and I don't know what it is, Something vibrates under me, I raise myself and tug my phone from my back pocket, MOM blares from the screen, I groan and face palm myself before answering the call, 'mom, hi!' I answer 'where the hell are you Bethesda? I've been worried sick. How was your interview? You bad girl, you could've called!' She rants, I roll my eyes before answering 'I'm fine mom, the interview was good and I'm at Fred's place', 'have you been drinking?' She asks, and I can literally see her boiling, 'just a glass mom, jeez' I reply, 'come home Beth!' 'On my way!' And I cut the call. She doesn't have to know that I might be late, as long as I get home. I look out of my car window just in time to see miss bowler hat come out of the bar, climb a very good looking bike and start the engine, I rev my engine and follow her, it wouldn't hurt to know where she lives at the least.