Ruslan

The boy walked down the corridor, looking as irritated as usual. A black backpack hung on his shoulders, and his loosely hanging jacket, slightly crumpled t-shirt, black jeans, and slightly unkempt hair looked defiant and aggressive on him. The school bully followed his gang of hooligans to the cafeteria to grab a bite or cause a commotion for fun. He pushed past the queue, glancing down at a small girl with a scowl as she counted her change and dropped a couple of coins.

— Counting pennies? — He snorted, handing the saleswoman his money with indifference — Give me that bun and take the payment for this slovenly lady.

The boy left as soon as he picked up his lunch. His boots clicked confidently on the glass floor.