"Dad I want a dog though"- I said. "Jake we talked about this, once you get straight A's you can get a dog"- Said Dad. " Fine, I'm going to bed"- I said. I storm off to my room upset because I think getting straight A's isn't possible, every teacher thinks I'm just trouble. I finally dose off. That night, I dream I’m walking through the school halls, but they’re empty—no lockers slamming, no whispers behind my back. My backpack feels lighter. At the end of the hallway, there’s a small dog sitting by the classroom door, tail thumping against the floor like it’s been waiting for me. When I reach down to pet it, a bell rings— I wake up. Morning light spills through my window, and for a second I forget everything. Then the weight comes back. School. Grades. Teachers who already made up their minds about me. Dad calling from downstairs snaps me fully awake.

At school, the day starts the same way it always does. Mrs. Carter sighs when she sees me walk in. Mr. Lewis reminds me—again—to “stay focused.” I try, I really do, but every wrong answer feels like proof that everyone’s right about me. Then, in science class, something weird happens. We get our tests back. I brace myself, already knowing what I’ll see. When I flip the paper over, my breath catches. A minus. Not perfect. But not terrible either. Mrs. Carter pauses by my desk. “Jake,” she says, quieter than usual, “this is a big improvement. Whatever you did—keep doing it.” For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel like trouble. I feel… capable. That afternoon, I walk home thinking about the dog from my dream. About Dad’s words. About how maybe straight A’s aren’t impossible—just really, really hard. When I open the front door, Dad looks up from the table. “How was school?” he asks. I hesitate, then smile just a little. “Better than yesterday,” I say. And for the first time, that feels like the start of something.