Before dinner ended, Reid was sure to write down the names of the small group that egged on the momentary bullying. If they didn't at least get detention for a day or two, he would certainly complain. Heaven knew he wouldn't keep his mouth shut, a fact that no one could ignore. But he didn't let it bother him that much---The student would be fine for the night. He detached from the group of teachers and said good night to Marcus, returning to his office and dorm and wiring his computer and lighting before night fell completely. He booted the computer up, bringing an email client up and composing one for the headmaster. Perhaps it was what the man was called, but Reid liked to refer to him as 'principal'. It was formal, but slightly less so. He just had to write his first-day complaints up in an email he would send tomorrow morning, rather than immediately. While it was the first day, it revealed a few vocal bullies. And he intended to get them as soon as possible.

Afterward, he glanced at the clock. So late, nearly eleven. Reid rolled his eyes---he never felt directly tired, but once he was out of his clothes and under his blanket. The old school creaked in the night, when everyone was asleep---or at least, supposed to be asleep. He let down his hair and listened to the creaking of the old building, its wooden beams settling and shifting with the wind. It lulled his mind to sleep, into odd, color-filled dreams.

~~~

When his clock rang, a hand hit it immediately. Reid was a morning person---he jumped up and whirled to his closet, pulling clothes out. He would be wearing something over his clothes in his art classes once they got into actual use of paint, but he would have to wear at least semi-formal clothing for his creative writing classes. A powder-blue buttondown shirt and light green bowtie that he couldn't help but feel he could pull off very well. A bright, pinkish-white vest and dress pants of the same color, ended with shiny shoes of white. He braided his hair, and it laid down in a long rope along his back so that it wouldn't get into paint, then he was out, nearly running to his classroom.

It looked exactly how he remembered it. Bare-walled though it was, he knew it would soon be filled with breathtaking paintings and works of art that, when his writing classes came in, would be covered in writing concepts and ideas. It was a large room for a series of somewhat-small classes, but it gave people room to move about and hide their work if they felt secretive. Finally, the clock read eight in the morning, and he unlocked the door. "Hello, boys!" He flourished slightly, waving them all inside. "Come in, come in---I can sense an artist hiding within all of you already! Choose wherever you like to sit, as long as you're happy with it!" He closed the door after they entered and started mulling around, picking and choosing until finally, they were settled. "So I have to take attendance, but there's one thing you'll all be well to store away in your brains right off the bat!" Reid couldn't help but bounce a little as he talked, pacing a bit, his energy palpable. "You will not, under any circumstance, use derogatory terms against anyone, regardless of race, sex, sexual orientation, or family life or social status. To me, you are all the same---you all have potential and I hate to see it wasted on harsh, unnecessary words. And the moment I hear something uttered or see it written, the origin of the insult will be to the headmaster in an instant. I hope that's clear, because I don't like getting too heavy! Where's that book...?"

He went to the desk, pulling up his attendance book and calling out names, marking them down as present when they spoke up.