I met him by accident. He was trying to kill himself.
As an ambitious high school senior, I was touring the school of my dreams: Yale University. Call it a coincidence, fate, destiny--whatever--but being the good Samaritan I was, I thwarted one student's ill-planned suicide attempt. I saved Darren's life.
I should have felt good, right? Like the world was all rainbows and sunshine since I did a good deed? Sadly, life didn't work that way for me.
Maybe it was the mental stress from almost shooting himself that turned Darren into a basket case. The guy started stalking me. But I can't be too quick to call the cops on him, because he's not humoring some fetish.
Someone wants him dead, and it's starting to look like I'm the one who'll have to save him. Again.