• chapter three •

The room wasn't very big, but it wasn't very small either. A stack of books was kept on a table, which was placed in the middle of a circle of chairs. Each chair had a tiny wooden table in front of it. The air-conditioning was on full blast. A small cupboard was fitted into an alcove at the back of the room. The wall across from me had a row of windows, but it looked as if they didn't open, they were only made to let the light in. The floor was done with pale white tiles, just like the other rooms that I had peeked in (to check whether it was my class or not) and the passages that I had just walked through, which had hand-made notices put up on the walls, like—'Scholarship students, this way' along with an arrow.

So we had followed those notices till we finally reached this particular room, which for now showed no signs of life. I sat down hesitantly on a chair and waited. I hoped we were early, rather than sitting in the wrong classroom. I kept my art bag containing my sketch book and shading pencils and stuff on the floor.

Maya trailed in after me. "Is this our class?" She looked around and saw a hand-made notice on one wall, which said: Class for scholarship students from India. She sat, too, and said, " 'Window to the Soul'. People are gonna make fun of that."

"Yeah," I said. I had thought so too, the moment I had seen it written at the top of the building which was our art center in silver, metallic letter blocks. It was a good name, though; I liked it. I'd found by peeking into various rooms that this organization didn't only deal with painters, but also with dancers and musicians. After all, they were artists too, and any kind of art is a window to the artist's soul.

We started to talk about something, and then our other neighbors-cum-friends entered.

And no one entered after that. "What, this class is just for us five?" Chirag asked. "That's so cool."

A woman of about thirty came in; we all went quiet at once. She looked like a babysitter; short and plump and a kind face. "Hey everyone! I'm Helen. I will be your teacher for one year. I'm going to teach you how to draw or paint with all sorts of mediums — pastels, pencils, oils and all. Today we'll begin with drawing with a pencil with the help of a grid. Should we start?"

We nodded like robots.

"Okay, so. I need to know your names first."

After we had given the introductions and I had said, "Um, I'm Hazel," (note the 'um'), Helen continued her speech. "A grid helps us to draw easily and accurately. As you all know, the boxes in the grid are labelled with numbers and letters. Switch to a denser grid for areas that are crowded or indistinct, for example, a face, because there are a lot of details in the face. And while drawing, concentrate on single squares, and forget the full image. So now, I will give a glass grid to all of you. Put it on your tables, and draw this stack of books."

I sketched a neat grid on my paper while Helen fetched the glass grids from the cupboard. She carried them carefully and gave one to each of us.

It was basically a sheet of glass framed with wood. A grid was drawn in black lines on the glass. I put it on my table and looked at the books through it. The stack was visible clearly. I started drawing.

It was an enjoyable experience: sitting in that peaceful room listening to the soft swish-swish sound of pencils on paper, with the air-conditioner on and the sunlight pouring in from the windows. I had always loved the combination of air-conditioner and sunlight. It was sort of beautiful, sitting in a cool room watching the warm patches of sunlight on the floor. I looked at the pattern that the sunlight was creating —a big square of light, with the shadow of a tree going through the centre and cutting the square in half. 

So soon that I thought only a minute had passed, I felt Helen beside me, and then she was leaning over my shoulder to look at my drawing. "Hey, that's nice." Her breath tickled my neck. "You're good at sketching. Draw the grid with a 2B, though. You don't want it to dominate the drawing." Then she stood up straight and walked over to the next person.

∞

Back in Hillview Drive, just as I was entering my house, I saw something red and blue in the park behind. Something moving. I went closer for a better look.

It was Liam and Zack and another girl I didn't know. They were playing football, using two benches on the opposite ends of the park as the goal-nets. Or whatever those nets are called.

Liam tried to dribble the ball away from Zack, and Zack shoved him. Liam fell down hard and Zack sat on top of him and started tickling him.

I felt an urge to shout out and ask if I could play too, but I didn't want to go up to them myself, because maybe they won't want me to intrude, and I knew Liam would be too polite to refuse. So I took out my phone, leaned against a tree which I was sure they could see clearly, and started tapping randomly on the screen to make it look like I was texting someone.

Pretty soon, I heard Zack say, "Hey, isn't that Reddie?" and then, a moment later, "REDDIEEEE!"

I looked up, pretending to see them for the first time. "Hi!"

"Want to play soccer?" Liam called.

"Yeah!" I pocketed my phone and went over to them, leaving my art-bag under the tree.

Liam was still lying on the ground. He pointed at the girl. "This is my cousin, Ashley."

She looked like another one of those popular girls: fancy top, designer jeans, long blond hair with streaks of red which were clearly dyed, and light make-up. Suddenly, I remembered seeing her at Luke's table yesterday and wondered why she sat with the guy who bullied her cousin.

She looked at me up and down, right from my red hair to my red sandals and then:

"Hi!" she said cheerfully, raising her hand to give a tiny wave. She seemed like a nice person, though, she wasn't one of those who had commented on my hair. So I smiled and said, just as cheerfully, "Hi!"

"Okay, we're four now," Zack said. "Let's divide the teams. We can—"

"I'm with you," Ashley interrupted and stood next to Zack.

"Okay," Liam said, still on the ground. "Hazel, you can be the goalkeeper and the defender and the midfielder and the rest of the stuff. I'm gonna take a nap here."

I laughed. "I can't even pass the ball properly, Liam. You'll have to stand up."

"Alright." He groaned and sat up then stood up, smiling, and pointed at a bench. "Go be the goalkeeper."

Before I could even start walking towards the bench, Zack ran at the ball and kicked with full force. It flew straight under the bench. "Woohoo! Goal!"

"No," Liam said. "That's not counted."

"It is."

"It's not."

"It is."

Liam pounced on Zack, making both of them fall to the ground. Then they started laughing. 

Boys are weird.

When they had managed to sober up, we started the game. Ashley and I were the goalkeepers, and as far as my untrained eyes could see, there was no reason for goalkeepers whatsoever. It seemed weird that only two people were playing in the center.

Zack dribbled past Liam easily and came towards me with a murderous look on his face. He kicked, and the ball came at me, and of course I shrieked and jumped out of the way because I was used to ducking Stan's football, and the ball went under the bench.

"YES!" Zack cried and blew kisses at a non-existent crowd. "Now this super-amazing soccer player needs to rest." He plopped down on the grass. Ashley sat next to him. I wondered if she had a crush on him.

Liam was standing beside me. I hadn't even noticed.

"Sorry for missing that goal."

He laughed. "Are you serious? He's on the school team. Even I can't stop his goals." Then he smiled. He had a beautiful smile, the kind that always seemed genuinely happy, the kind that could always cheer you up, the kind that caused crinkles to appear by his eyes.

I smiled too, and looked at Zack and Ashley. They were making out. I gawked for a moment, then looked away to give them some privacy, which meant looking at Liam again. He was staring at them. "This must be weird for you," I remarked, "watching your cousin and best friend dating. If my brother Stan kissed Sharon, it would be...yuck."

"Why?" he asked. "I know Zack. He is a nice guy, you know, and I'm glad she's with him instead of being with any other jerk. I know he won't cheat her."

"In my case, I'd feel bad for Sharon. Or for any girl who dates him."

"Hmm. Let's go for a walk. These two are gonna be busy for a long time."

We walked along the perimeter of the park. Liam nodded toward the tree under which I had been standing. "What's that bag for?"

"Art class."

"Was it good?"

"Yeah," I replied. "It's a peaceful place. I loved the class."

"Hm." He put his hands in his pockets and stared straight ahead, lost deep in thought. He walked about three steps like that. Then suddenly, he stopped walking and stopped me along with him. "Would you like to go hiking with me?"

I looked at him with surprise. "Hiking? Liam, we don't know each other well enough for me to follow you into the woods."

"Okay." He nodded. "How can you say that?"

"I don't know your last name," I said.

"It's Samuels. Liam Samuels. Now do you know me?"

"Liam, that's not the point."

"Then what is? Oh, I know. You probably think I'm going to murder you and chop up your body and leave the pieces in the forest." He laughed. "I'm not that kind of guy, you know."

"No, I don't know. That's exactly what I'm saying." I sighed.

"I'm going to take you to my house and let you meet everyone so that you know I come from a good family," he offered.

"It's not about that. You could be a psycho."

There was a big exclamation mark on his face. Then he laughed for a whole minute. I was starting to like that sound.

"Sorry," I said. I wanted to go, but the sensible part of me said otherwise. "You can ask Zack or Ashley."

"Nah, Ash would refuse because she doesn't like the adventurous kind of stuff, and Zack would definitely not come if Ash refuses. Come on, it would be fun. I go alone sometimes, but it gets lonely. We can go after a week. You'll know me by that time."

I couldn't help smiling. "Okay. When exactly?"

He shrugged. "When are you free this week?"

I thought for a while. "Friday evening," I answered finally, because Sam had told me that I won't have my art class on Fridays. "And... um... Saturday or Sunday, maybe," I added, even though this weekend I had planned to relax and enjoy myself, even though since I'd come to Louisville, I had only been relaxing and enjoying myself: reading novels in hot bubble baths, eating chocolate cakes with chocolate syrup and hot chocolate, and doing other stuff like that.

"Okay. Friday evening's fine by me."

"Where will we go?"

"There's a forest behind Ashley's house. It's huge. Ever heard of Crescent View Trail?"

"Yeah, of course. I've been living in Louisville for, like, one year."

He grinned at me. "Sarcasm. I like that. So, this Crescent View Trail is in the forest, obviously. It's a pretty long one. It'd be a nice, good walk."

Then Liam stumbled forward like something from behind had hit him. I turned around and saw the offensive football lying on the grass.

"Hey, Brace-O!" Zack—who had presumably kicked the ball—called, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Crushing on Reddie already?"

Liam sighed and picked up the ball. "Let's go."

The moment we reached them, Zack's phone rang. He picked it up, talked a bit, then hung up and said: "I need to go home." He bent down and pecked Ash. "Bye, Reddie."

"Bye, Blackie," I replied.

Then he pointed at Liam. "I won't say bye to you, Brace-O."

"You're not funny, you know?" Liam said. "And you'll have to come up with a new nickname. I'll get my braces removed this week."

"Aw, that's bad. I'll still call you Brace-O, though." He put his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, I'm going. Gotta babysit Claire." He picked up the ball, punched Liam in the stomach and made him double over with his hands on his stomach and cry, "Ow!" and walked away.

About ten seconds later, Ash turned to me and asked, "Is my eyeliner smudged?"

I looked at her grey eyes, which were a lot like Liam's. Her eyeliner wasn't even detectable. "Not really," I said.

"Oh yeah, it is," Liam interrupted. "It's smeared all around your eyes. You look like a raccoon."

Ash turned her head to glare at him. "What did you say?"

Liam grinned. "Oops." He started to back away.

She stepped towards him, and pretty soon, both of them were running. They ran for a long time, and when she had finally managed to literally kick his butt (yes, literally, not figuratively), they came back.

"Poor you," I said.

Liam, with his hands on his hips, looked at me. "Hitting me is like their pastime. I'm sure my ass will get paralyzed some day."

I laughed. "I'm not sure that's possible." 

"It always seems unlikely till it happens." He looked at his watch. "It's six already. I gotta go home."

As he walked ahead of us using his soon-to-be paralyzed butt, Ash turned to me again. "Are you sure my eyeliner isn't smudged?"

I smiled and shook my head.

The three of us walked together, the sun above us and a soft breeze swaying the trees.

I had just met these people and I was surprised at how much I liked them. Some people, I suppose, we are meant to meet.

∞