I walked purposefully down the hallway of Toronto’s foremost private boys school. My arms swayed back and forth to the momentum and I sported a playful smirk. I stopped in front of my locker and traded school work for my vintage Lord of The Rings lunchbox, and then checked myself out in the mirror on the inside of the door. I grinned; one of my canines is sorta twisted which creates a small gap, but my mom told me it added personality- something I tended to lack, she said. I pushed back my short light brown hair and the fringe that just barely reached my ocean coloured eyes just fell right back into place perfectly. Once I closed my locker door, a shadowed figure startled me with their presence. An athletic twelfth grader with platinum blonde hair grabbed my collar and sneered. “What do we ‘ave for lunch today, Grody?” His stern voice compelled my eye to twitch. My name is, in fact, Cody. “H-heeey buddy! Sure, my lunch is all yours,” I squeaked. The bully snickered as he took off
