A Taste of Spring

SPRING
Turning her phone off was the best thing for her sanity, but Spring still felt the urge to look at her call log to see who tried to
contact her. She hoped that Dez realized that he made a huge mistake in dumping her and was calling to beg her to take him
back.
The reality hit hard...two calls from Taylor, a half dozen calls from her Grams, and a dozen or more from Troy.
The calls from Taylor were of no importance. She wasn't interested in modeling or dating. Her grams just wanted to cheer her up.
No doubt Summer told her about Dez. Dez, whose existence she didn't share with Grams because Grams was Pro-Troy. And
Troy, who probably heard from Grams that she was nursing a broken heart that wasn't because of him. She didn't want to explain
to Troy, for the hundredth time, that they were better off as friends. Troy was a great guy, but he wasn't her great guy.
What wasn't logged in her calls was a message from Summer. Which was odd because they talked at least four times a day.
As Spring climbed the apartment building stairs, she hit the home screen on her cell for the hundredth time. It was nine in the
evening and no calls from Summer. Not even a text. She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder as she put her key in the main
building door. The door swung open before she could turn the knob. The sudden jolt caused her key to fall out of the lock onto
the doormat. She bent to get her keys as a figure rushed by, almost knocking her over.
"Hey," she called as she focused on the black boots that descended the steps in an obvious hurry. She lifted her gaze to see
which of their neighbors was the jerk but she could only see the back of what she assumed was a man wearing a loose hoodie
rushing down the sidewalk.
"Jerk."
Spring picked up her keys then caught the building door before it closed and locked. She moved over the threshold, forgetting
that she was somewhat worried about Summer. Instead, as she checked the mailbox, she thought of how Dezmond's number
wasn't on her call log. It hadn't been for two weeks.
You'd think that spending time over the past few months and then suddenly not spending time with her, would leave a gaping
hole of loneliness in his life. Like the hole that kept growing in hers. But...nope. Apparently, he was good. That angered her but
even with being angry, Spring was still eighty percent hurt and twenty percent angry. Hurt still trumped angry.
She carried herself and the mail up the flights of stairs with her head lowered. She didn't want to talk so she kept her head down
as not to make eye contact with anyone. When she came to her door, she noticed the welcome mat was misaligned. Her eyes

focused on the door. It was ajar.
(Why...?)
Spring used her foot to kick over the edge of the welcome mat where Summer kept their spare key. The key was gone. She
looked around the hallway. It was empty but not silent. The tenants across the hall were blasting Pop music loud enough for her
to make out the tone but not the words.
Realizing her phone was still in her hands, Spring dialed Summer's number. One ring and the voicemail picked up. She
disconnected the call then eased the door open with her foot, looking inside from the hallway. It was pitch black inside. Spring
raised her arm and used her hand to feel around the wall for the light switch.
The click of the switch and the illumination of the light were simultaneous. The glow in the room showed that everything was just
like it usually was.
She took one step, carrying herself over the threshold. Another step inside made it possible to close the door. But Spring didn't.
"You're freaking yourself out, Two," Spring whispered. She nervously giggled at herself for whispering. She glanced over her
shoulder at the open doorway as she moved further inside, heading toward the back where the bedrooms were.
(What are you afraid of?)
As the thought solidified, something caught her eye.
Spring stopped. She peered at a red smudge that wasn't there before. The stain was stark against the white wall and when she
looked closer, Spring placed her hand over her mouth and took a step back. It looked like a blood streaked handprint.
"Summer!" Spring yelled. The mail fell from her hand and so did her cell. She took a shaky step forward when someone caged
her arms from behind and pulled her back against an unyielding mass. "Let me go. Help," she screamed as she kicked and
wiggled to get free. But it did nothing.
Panic and fear took hold as her mind shut out everything around her but the feel of her being enclosed. Her ears filled with the
sound of her drumming heart; her eyes saw nothing but red. This isn't how she wanted to die so she fought harder. She twisted,
kicked, and pushed against her capture until she fell to the floor. Without a backward glance, Spring crawled a few inches then
pushed to her feet.

(Get away. I have to get away.)