MEMORY: Where to Start?

I really shouldn’t get involved in this, I kept muttering to myself until I reached the library. But I guess it won’t hurt to do a little fact-checking. I made peace with my inner self and approached the Librarian’s Desk at the Restricted section.

“I wonder why you girls need this yearbook from three years ago,” Mrs. Joson, the old librarian, whined as she bent down a little to get the item from a shelf.

Wait, did she say girls? I almost shouted from the counter, surprised at the unexpected information.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but did someone borrow it too? Was it recently? Do you remember who she is?” I asked, I think a bit too forcefully, as she walked back leisurely to her chair.

The old woman dropped the yearbook to the marble counter with a thud! and looked at me as if I had said something terrible. “Of course! I’m not as old as you think, young lady.” Mrs. Joson lowered herself to her seat, making her swivel chair squeak to her weight.

She then squinted her wrinkly eyes, assuming the thinking expression. “I think… hm… she’s your age. Yearbooks are for room use only so I didn’t get her name.”

“Do you remember what she looks like?” I still prodded, even though she was clearly having a hard time remembering at all.

“You girls all look the same!” She threw her hands up. “How do you think I’d be able to remember every single one of you?”

I knew better not to urge the librarian with her mood like that, so I decided to leave her in peace and focus on the task at hand.

It didn’t take long for me to scan the yearbook. I couldn’t see any more relevant details apart from Nicole’s class picture, and a tribute given to her by the Student Board and the Newspaper Club. Her slot for the graduation picture, of course, remained empty. I felt a sense of sympathy for her, dying at a young age, when she was that close to graduating high school.

I left the library with a new possibility in mind. It might be a slim chance but it could be that there was someone else investigating the incident, apart from Nicole’s brother and me. The librarian said the student didn’t borrow anything else, and that she only asked to see that particular yearbook.

What could she possibly need from it if not because of the incident? I asked myself. She’s a girl, probably of the same year. And if I’m lucky, she might be the informant who has left Calvin the envelope in the first place.

I was walking down the stairs wondering where to look next, or what to look for in particular. I figured I had to take a look at Calvin’s pictures again to give me ideas, when I heard loud voices down the hall of the second-years.

“What’s that you got there?” A booming voice resonated from a distance.

“A freshman I caught wandering around,” someone answered, sounding pleased to report.

When I turned the corner, I found that the source of the noise was coming from two male students: the skinnier one was holding the freshman in place by his collar, while the bigger one was scrutinizing the poor boy.

“Hey, only those in the clubs and the Student Board are allowed to stay this late in the premises. Freshies can’t join clubs yet, so why are you still here?” the big guy asked, to which the freshman didn’t answer.

“Are you doing something fishy around here? Come on, let me check your bag," the other guy said, forcing the boy to let go of his bag.

Seeing them corner a helpless little boy annoyed me so much that I couldn’t just let it pass.

“Hey, there you are!” I called out to the boy as I approached the trio. “The librarian said you forgot something back there. Good thing I caught up with you.”

The shameless bullies stared at me and then at each other, clearly surprised. All it took was for them to take a look at my ID which made them step back in an instant. I don’t think it was due to respect, but students usually avoid messing with those in the top class. This was one of the moments where I could use such privilege with much joy.

I caught the terrified boy’s eyes, urging him to play along.

“Ah, y-yeah. So that’s where I left it. I’ve been looking for it just now, actually,” he said, still hugging his bag as if his life depended on it.

“The library’s about to close, so hurry up,” I said, and together we fled in an instant.

“Geez, Calvin. That was close.” I exhaled in relief when we were out of sight.

“Th-thank you for saving me back there.” The freshman was still on edge but I could see he had relaxed a little now.

Even if he didn’t tell me, I knew very well what he was protecting dearly inside that bag of his.

“Do you always carry that around?” I asked. And he just nodded in reply.

“Would it be okay if I get a photocopy of the pictures and the notes? We need to back them up just in case. More importantly, they’re all that we have right now.”