It’s your sixth year at Blackwood High School for Boys, a place where the walls seem to remember every generation that’s passed through. The campus sits on a rise overlooking the town, its buildings carved from old grey stone, their windows tall and narrow like watchful eyes. Every morning, the bell tolls across the fog-drenched quad, and hundreds of blazers move in unison — navy blue, crisp white shirts, striped ties. Discipline, tradition, excellence: that’s the Blackwood creed.