In just half an hour the meeting would be called. Reid took to his bathroom, jumping into the shower and standing still under a cool rain for several minutes. His mind was still running wild, seeing Adam still there. He was an artist, of course. An artist that could, eventually, prove himself in just about any medium. He'd never done a self-portrait, though. That was a curious thing. Maybe he could. He knew the human body well, both male and female. It was a three-month-long course in college, sketching, painting and creating sculptures of a nude model. And Reid knew what he, himself, looked like. He knew his own body better than anyone---he had grown up in it, after all.

Sighing lightly, restless, Reid turned the water off and studied himself in the mirror. Color? Grayscale? Surreal? So many options opened up when an artist was given free reign with his or her creations. He picked up a brush nearby, sliding it through his hair.

Dressed and refreshed, Reid paced his dorm, into his office and back into his bedroom, and finally left. If he didn't move, he would go crazy, his energy seeping out in any way he could consider. Walking the school as many teachers did, looking for any stragglers or misbehaving boys, he came to his classroom and tilted his head. The light inside was on, shining in through the crack at the bottom of the solid oak door. He carefully opened it, peering in slowly and widening his eyes. Terry was inside. Sleeping. Moving inside, Reid closed the door and tapped his foot loudly, but not enough to shock the sleeping student.