Kaleidoscope by Tracy Campbell Read Free Book Online Page A

seemed to know where he was headed, but I unfortunately did not. Anxiety overtook me as I willed myself to look for a solution to this predicament. Instead of following him, I followed the arrow on the small sign indicating the lobby, checking my phone as I did so to check the time.
    It was 11:18 am. The class didn't start for another twelve minutes, so I had time. I breathed to steady myself, feeling like a child on the first day of school, and forced myself to walk a little slower to the building, keeping up appearances that I knew where I needed to be so as not to embarrass myself. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized how silly it was to feel so uncertain about a simple painting class, but a fear of the unknown was something I've always had to deal with—at least I think it has been. I tried not to dwell on it and followed the sidewalk as it wound around the building to the recreational center's entrance.
    The lobby was mostly empty, peppered with a few individuals throughout who enjoyed conversations with each other. I looked out the enormous paned glass windows that stretched from floor to ceiling along the entire outside wall, admiring the small, delicate snowflakes that drifted to the ground.  Doing my best to quell the certainty that everyone already knew there was something wrong with me, I turned my attention to the front desk, mustering the courage to approach the woman sitting behind it.
    She appeared to be in her late-30s and wore her curly brunette hair in a casual bun that flopped loosely at the back of her head. With her glasses, sitting halfway down a long, straight nose, she almost reminded me of Ms. Orowitz. This strengthened my confidence as I leaned secretively onto the desk; I'd dealt with Ms. Orowitz a hundred times, this woman couldn't possibly be much different.
    “Can I help you?” she asked in a bored tone.
    “Yes, actually. I uh, I'm looking for the painting class at 11:30, but I've never been here before.”
    She paused and looked at me, nonplussed with my obvious lack of confidence. I withered where I stood.
    “Um...would you tell me where I can find it? Please?” I asked, much quieter.
    The woman raised her eyebrows critically, doing nothing for my insecurity. I hesitated under her gaze until she  glanced down at a paper, then glanced in my direction. She didn't look at me, but at somewhere behind me.
    “It's Room 108. First floor, to your left here.” She motioned to a hallway on my left, one of two that exited from the lobby onto what I could only assume were first-floor rooms. To my right, an enormous, modern-looking staircase climbed to a second floor. Its glass walls showed off a variety of sports-related facilities.
    “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled, tucking my head down into my jacket and making my way down the hall.
    The room was easy enough to find. The moderately lit, linoleum-tiled hallway was short, only containing eight rooms that alternated down its length, and the one I was seeking was the last one on the right. Each heavy wooden door, laden with one small square window, wore with a small plaque on the side of the wall; it reminded me of my old high school.
    “PAINTING/DRAWING – 108,” the sign read. I peered inside the room. Though a few minutes still remained before the class began, there appeared to be other people seated within at long rows of wooden tables that had been pushed together. I braced myself and pulled the handle to go inside.
     
     
     

 
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
     
     
    Half a dozen pairs of eyes greeted me briefly as I made my way into the room, filled only with fleeting curiosity before they glanced back to other, more interesting points of focus. These mostly amounted to being phones that were lodged into their hands like a life source.
    One set of eyes, however, did not look away. They belonged to a taller man, who I guessed was somewhere in his mid-40s based on the stripes of gray in his short, somewhat untidy hair. I could only assume that