Instructors Love

1

I was lost in another pointless lecture. I attend two schools as of right now, college and an art school I pay for out of pocket. I hadn't actually started the art programs yet, those courses started a few weeks after my normal courses. Which was nice, because it gave me time to muster up money for supplies. However, today was the start of the art program and I was currently waiting impatiently in my last lecture.

I watched each tick of the clock hung above the large door frame. Every once and a while I would run a hand through my hair, my hair was pink, like a cloud of cotton candy stuck on my head. It caused for a few odd stares in the halls, but I didn't mind.

Well, that's not the only thing that caused people to look at me funny. I dressed 'brighter' and 'softer' than the others on campus. I partake in 'yami-kawaii' fashion, and other lolita type styles. The people here aren't really used to seeing people like me in towns like this. The only time I see people like me is online or over the internet.

But all that was beside the point, my class had just finished. I had to hurry back to my dorm to shower before I had to leave for my art shop. I strutted down the hallways, the bows in my hair slightly blowing behind me. I had to be at the shop by 3:00, it was around 1:50 at the moment.

I got home to my dorm and showered. I had no roommate at the moment, there was no one to fill the spot at the moment. It was nice living alone, but dorm fees are getting rather expensive recently. I had no one in the room to judge me or the way I decorated my side of the room, no one to pick fun at all the pastel clothing I owned and organized by rainbow order. It was nice.

I got ready, throwing on a soft baby blue hoodie and powder pink jeans. I pulled my small desk mirror close to me so I could secure clips into my slightly damp hair. I didn't have too much time to dry my hair.

And with that being done, I grabbed my supply bag and I was off. I had no car, I was too scared to drive. So anywhere I went, I walked. My art shop wasn't far, so the small distance wouldn't be too hard to walk.

I approached what was meant to be the address of the shop. The building wasn't too big, there were cherubs and harps craved in the archway wood that was stained black. I opened the glass doors and searched for my first class room. 205 sewing. I had Anatomy practice, a painting course, sewing course, and a clay course. This program is going to cost me an arm and a leg.

When I got to my class, hardly anyone was there. I sat down at one of the empty benches. The class went smoothly, I didn't really interact with anyone. I was focused on hearing what the instructor had to say to us.

I glanced in between door numbers and my map to try and scout out where my next class was. "Need help?" I turned around, the man who spoke to me offered me a paper. He had this fried yellow tinged hair and nutmeg colored eyes. He didn't stare at me weird, or ask me about my outfit, he just offered me his paper. I slipped it out of his hands. "You look new, I don't think I've seen you around here before?"

"Oh," He must be a regular from the other years. "Yeah, I just started today. I got a little lost trying find my painting class." I un-folded the paper he gave me, a map. He had given me a map with all the classes and their rooms labeled in black ink. But one class was circled in red, the painting course!

"Just use that to navigate your way around here. I'm actually heading to my class too." He walked with me all the way to the classroom. "Ah, you're lucky you got put in the class." He had a juvenile smile and his face. Lucky?

"Instructor!!" The door opened and a small girl with short black bobbed hair came flying out of the room.

"Instructor?" I was confused.

"Ah, yes." He smiled over at the girl to greet her. "I teach this course. You can call me instructor Lee, what's your name?" He looked so young to be an instructor, maybe early twenties? He looks like he should be in college himself.

"I'm Dylan." We gathered ourselves and began class.