“What are you proposing? Kicking him out? Kicking all of you out? Indeed, that’s the question, because I certainly can and should if we’re talking about a fair punishment,” The Headmaster retorted, heat and musing entangled in his tone. The old man stood, his spine made an audible hard crack. He rumbled through one of his many drawers, pulling out a book. A handbook, Jaime assumed. “The officers are analyzing the case. They’ll determine who’s guilty and then I shall proceed after that. For now, though, I’ve to create an immediate consequences.” The Headmaster peered down the slope of his nose as he flipped through the well-thumbed pages.

“And how long will the ‘investigation’ take, Sir? Ten, fifteen days? A month? Forever?” Jaime clenched his jaws, the unspeakable part rang between them: Or are you simply bidding time so that Passmore’s parents would pay for your silence?

The Headmaster glared up sharply. “I’m conducting my own research. I intended to talk to Reed, Cassidy and Tamar at some point before the Assembly before making my decision.”

“You’re going to talk to Passmore and Ahmed?” Jaime guffawed. “They can’t even remember their own name after last night hungover, for God’s sake.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

Jaime jumped to his feet. “I’m the one who got punched in the face for showing up at the wrong time,” He threw his arms in the air, tears pricked his eyes. “I’m the one who got his friend beaten to death and nearly got rape because I didn’t think beforehand. I’m the one that could have prevent this whole thing to happen if I wasn’t a guileless idiot. I’m the one that didn’t learn, that refused to believe there are people like you and Fishburne, who would break their promises.” Jaime half-sobbed, half-screamed.

“Jaime,”

Jaime clenched his heart, suffocating on his own breathing. His knees buckled, and he pitched forward.

“Jaime!” The Headmaster dropped the book, but Jaime stubbornly shook his head, signing that he was fine when he managed to catch himself. The old man halted, palms taunted and hovered uncertainly mid-air, and Jaime almost laughed at the odd, light-headed deja vu sensation.

“You can’t let Passmore get away from this,” Jaime wheezed, saying bitterly and desperately. He wiped furiously at his heated cheeks.

“Yes, of course. I’ll see to it. Now sit, Jaime,”

A single tear slipped between the crack of his fingers, and he smiled while it fell. “No, you won’t. You’ll let him get away because he’s rich and because he only acted on a spur of moment,”

The Headmaster’s soothing murmur strained. “Jaime, don’t be irrational. Sit. Please,”

Jaime stared at the man and shook his head lightly, reluctantly flumped back to the seat. He scowled at the edge of the table in front of him, shoulders slumped, determined not to shift his gaze when the Headmaster moved so that the man was standing in front of him, towering over him, taking up all most his peripheral vision.

“Jaime, trust me for this one. I’m bound by legal duty, I can’t escape even if I want. There are specific punishments outlined in the handbook, alright?”

Jaime did not nod.

“They’ll be expel from all extracurriculars and have mandatory ten-day detention,” The Headmaster continued cautiously.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Jaime said, stiff and flat. His eyes flitted to the Headmaster’s mouth for a brief second before resumed its previous blank stare-straight ahead. “I’m sorry I lose my head there. I shouldn’t act like that. You obviously will do something about this,”

The Headmaster sighed. Jaime jolted at the huge, warm, blistered hand came to rest heavy on his shoulder, dangerously near the crook of his neck. His pulse jumped as he tried to squirm away, glancing at the window and the closed door behind them. The Headmaster held him still, forcing him to look up. “Did you get interrogated by the officers?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

“You’ll be, soon. The officers are interrogating the party-attended students for the next three to five days. The Captain had took a peculiar interest in you since you seemed to be the connection between these incidents,”

A muscle near Jaime’s mouth twitched, but he quickly hid it behind a wary regard to the Headmaster.

“It’s alright. I just want you to know,” The Headmaster’s thumb traced Jaime’s jawline, smoothing over the spot by his lips. “Keep a level-head, Jaime. The Captain is a weird suspicious man. Any of the drama acts would be a trick to him. He wouldn’t care about your conditions or your relationship with Reed.”

Jaime’s mask chipped.

The Headmaster patted his head, and released him, rounding behind his desk. “You may go. I’ve got what I needed from you.”

Jaime looked at the old man, frowning. “But you haven’t asked anything,”

“Dismiss,” The Headmaster shooed.

Jaime carefully stood and walked to the door. Before he pushed open the door, he turned, “Sir?”

“Yes?”

Jaime hesitated. “May I come later this evening?” At this, the Headmaster glanced up. “To discuss my withdrawal from school.”

The Headmaster’s hands uncurled from the folder he was reading. “Oh?”

“I need to go back to the States. For my mother.”

The Headmaster gaped, and open-closed his lips twice before speaking, unsure of his own words. “It’s not good timing.”

“I’m sorry,”

The old man cracked his knuckles. Maybe tomorrow, Jaime.”

“Okay.” Jaime said, absentmindedly, “Okay.”

He walked out.

As soon as he was alone in the Hall in front of the Headmaster’s Office, his sympathetic frown blanked into a cruel, cold expressionless face.

A cold glint gleamed at the bottom of his eyes.