On our very first day of high school we were assigned a locker based on our last name. I had been next to Leigh from grade 9-12 as I was a Smith and she was a Stevenson. Beside me was Brent (my note forging heavy – see Forging Notes are, uh... bad story) and on the other side of Leigh was Bex. Our row was on the first floor next to Mrs. Skoll’s grade 9 math room. It was the perfect locker placement. Right in the middle between the front doors, and the cheeky escape hatch we used on the side of the school to get to the bus at the end of the day. We were here together until grade 13, when the administration scattered us all over the school and our little Breakfast Club of misfit friends were no longer together. Leigh used to complain that my locker had a pungent smell of used Tupperware, a likely rotten apple and sport uniforms – so during one of our organized “locker clean out” days, I completely tore my locker apart to organize my adolescent chaos, when I noticed something was missing ...