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.)
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