Loud footsteps, belly bouncing up and down, lips covered with cookie fillings, and cola in one hand—Arthur caught everyone’s attention as he walked towards his locker. He rebutted their judgmental eyes with an intense glare that forced them to look away. As soon as he opened his locker, vandalism welcomed him. Squeak like a pig. Your face makes me puke. Do you swim in a septic tank? You disgust me—those were the words written using a felt-tip pen.

Arthur clenched his fist. “Who did this?”

The students stopped what they were doing and stared at the unsightly view. They responded with silence and naïve expressions.

“I said, who did this?”...