The Sketchbook of Little Secrets

Chapter Eight

   Old chapters with little changes, because I think they’re good enough.

Chapter Eight

“Sorry, I’ll have to gather a few things—” I started, busy tidying the markers scattered on the benches.

“I’ll wait for you at my car, yeah?” Kaiser politely offered.

“Thanks.” I nodded and grabbed the markers in one hand, the drawing in the other, and returned the markers while watching Kaiser go. It felt almost normal to talk to him, like I was someone else—a normal girl without the burden of her past, without a façade, without an image to maintain, without any evil intentions—anyone else but me myself. How odd. And the strangest thing was that I actually enjoyed the exchange. It felt like talking to a friend.

A friend, as in a true friend.

How odd.

I supposed I should be frowning because of all the confusion and puzzlement spinning up in my stomach, but there was this warm feeling that overwhelmed my mind and brought a light smile on my face. But, heck, I was smiling to no one in particular.

“Jesse! Can I keep your work?” Ms. Evans’ voice startled me a little, but I quickly adjusted and agreed with a smile.

“Good. I’ve lost Kaiser here, though. Could you perhaps…find some way to give it back to him?” She asked uncertainly, waving my drawing of myself in the air.

“I can do that.” I took it and smiled at her.

“Thank you!”

“Welcome, Ms. Evans.”

With that, I stuffed the drawing into my bag and walked out of the art room, while rolling my drawing and fitting it into the portfolio.

It wasn’t until I was transferring books from my locker to my bag, did I notice something wrong.

The sketchbook was missing.

As much as I wanted to calm down, I buried myself into my locker, which still had a strong scent of cheap perfume, and went on for a frantic search. I couldn’t find it anywhere! I fished through the pile of worksheets and notes without success. My fingers brushed the top shelf of the locker finding nothing. My heart leapt into my throat. Shit. This wasn’t helping anything.

Maybe I left it behind in the art room? Maybe it accidentally slipped out of my bag? Maybe someone, somehow, got hold of it—no. That would be downright disastrous. All hell would break loose.

I ran back to the art room and quickly looked for my sketchbook. I muttered losing something to Ms. Evans and started searching. No sign of it. I bent down and looked under the stools and tables, still finding nothing. I jerked and stood up straight again, my necklaces swinging from the motion. It must be here, somewhere; I must find it, or else…fuck, I couldn’t even think of what would happen if it got into the wrong hands.

I looked for it in the whole art room, still finding nothing.

A cold panic gripped my heart, while my mind launched into a frenzy frustration.

I ran out of the art room and started tracing back the classrooms I went throughout the day. I looked for the English room, the Calculus room, the cafeteria where I was forced to sit with the bitches and laugh along with them, and the paths I took. Still couldn’t find anything. Fuck!

I was briefly tempted by the idea of tracing the school campus once to look for my sketchbook, but I suddenly remembered I promised to meet Kaiser at the parking lot. He should be bored by now. I’d better go meet him, like, right now.