Tuesday. Right before school.

On Tuesdays, your first class of the day is with class 4-1. Yet you’re only just arriving at the school when you catch one of your kids, Mr. Ryan Foster, painting a graffiti on a wall. You have to stop him, but before you do, you stop to look at him work.

He isn’t just painting a graffiti. He’s outright making art. While what he’s writing clearly says “DON’T FUCK WITH ME”, his choice of colors and his mastery of the spraying can is top notch. You sigh. Truly wasted talent, because he’s going to have to clean that up when he’s found out.

When he’s done, you walk up to him and look directly at the painted wall.

“This is why I hate using an old flip phone. I wish I could take a picture of this.”

“Fuck!” Mr. Foster flinches when he suddenly notices you besides him. Ryan Foster is a young man with very dark skin and just slightly taller than you. His jacket and pants are baggy and almost hide his thin frame.

“Where did you learn to do this?” you asks out of curiosity.

He seems puzzled by your question, as if he was expecting to be scolded and was ready to fight back, but now he just eyes you cautiously. “Been doing it since I was ten. My old man runs a hardware store, so I always have paint to work with,” he says, going back to do some finishing touches on his piece.

“Good color choice, too. You’re really talented.” You nod to yourself.

Mr. Foster looks back at you with raised eyebrows. “You into graffiti, teach?” he asks.

“Not particularly, but I think any work done well has value, and this is especially well done,” you praise. “Such a shame it’ll have to be painted over.” You add with a sigh.

Mr. Foster groans. “Yeah…” he agrees, looking at his handiwork.

“You’re doing it, by the way,” you tell him casually.

“What!?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You know you can’t paint on this wall, and I saw you. You’ll clean this up. It’s not fair that the janitor has to do it just because you had the great idea to express yourself on a school wall.”

“I ain’t gonna clean shit!” he argues.

“Yes, you will. And after you do, we’ll look for a place you can paint with no issue. I know there’s a few grey walls in the inner school yard. I’ll talk to the headmaster.”

“…” Mr. Foster looks at you confused. He glances from you to his graffiti before his shoulders drop in resignation. “Yeah, okay…” he says with little enthusiasm.

“Good. I bet you can do it before English class. I’ll let you skip homeroom this once.”

After talking to the dean, he takes your suggestion to have Mr. Foster clean up and says he’ll bring up the matter of the yard walls to the headmaster.

When you look at your watch to see the time, you see words sliding by the tiny screen.

F. Ryan – Aff. 7 (+7)