Flowers of Spring

River of Darkness

It was lunchtime and I found myself sitting in the interior garden. The outdoor benches were attached to tables, making it easy for students to eat their lunch. Since most of the students brought food from home, these benches were not unique to this particular area. They were pretty much all around the outdoors of the school.

I was sitting in one of these, alone, while most of the other benches were full of little groups of students. Lunchtime was halfway done and the students were mostly just chattering and being loud after a hefty meal. I, for one, had already finished eating and was simply eating my way through a book I recently discovered. I'm not the most avid reader, but there are a few books that do catch my eye. I saw this particular one when I was on my way back home. The nearby bookstore had a signing of a book that had just come out. It seemed intriguing. It had everything I looked for in a book— crime, mystery, romance, and smut. It was a self-published book from an unknown author. I never did see the author under the small crowd, but the pen name "Leonora" sounded noir enough that it went well with the nature of the book.

My intrigue for the book had paid off. I was fascinated by the plot, the descriptions, and most of all, the strong, willful, and stoic female main character. So much so that I hid from my friends during lunch just so I could continue the fascinating journey I had embarked on. But I knew I was running against time. As a matter of fact, I had already run out of time. From the corner of my eye, the jumpy and shoulder swinging walk of a wild Nat had arrived at the interior garden. Even if I couldn't make out her shape completely or the details on her face with my peripheral vision, I knew that her face had to show a wide smile. The same as small children whenever people cheer for them when they accomplish some ordinary thing.

"My little cherry blossom, I have found you!"

Little cherry blossom had to be the pet name I disliked the most.

"You left us all alone during lunch," Nat said, sitting on the bench like a person would sit when riding a horse. She faced me with analytical eyes. "Why?" A funny pout.

I lifted the book as an answer.

"Hmm, is it good? Should I read it?"

"You don't like reading."

"Well, maybe I can get into it. What is it about?"

"It's about a female detective in the fifties and a supposed serial killer. But what's curious is that a romance develops between them. I find it interesting because she's very serious and unfriendly."

"Oh! Let me see!" She swiftly made a move for my book.

I had no way of reacting. She's too fast.

She looked at the page I was reading intently. Her eyes twitched side to side as she read line by line. Her eyes squinted the more she read and her pout turned to the left side of her face.

"This is written very—"

"Refined? Yes, I know. But it goes well with the noir style."

"Hmm. I feel like I would just get lost."

I already knew that.

"Anyway, where are Mia and Gabby at? ... ahh ... Nat, your blonde strands are showing."

"Eck! Thank you," she said, and quickly fixed her hair. "Mrs. Brown's been on my ass ever since this morning so it'd be a problem if she saw the hair. Anyway, they're back at the tennis courts eating lunch. You know how slow Gabby is when it comes to eating."

"So you just came to look for me?"

"Yep. Mia wanted to come instead because she had some dirty question she wanted to ask you but I insisted I would come find you."