Later that night, a message from his father lit up his phone. They updated your academic record. One last warning. Turn things around or you’re out. No trust fund, no apartment, nothing. Lucas stared at the text. He didn’t reply. But for the first time, he didn’t feel dread. He felt ready.
Friday arrived, crackling with end-of-term tension. The school was buzzing. Report cards were being issued, counselors were meeting with students, and graduation plans were underway. The future was on everyone’s lips. Lucas moved through the crowd, gripping a folder. Inside were redone assignments, essays marked with positive feedback, and a draft of a piece titled “The Illusion of Power,” which Evelyn had challenged him to write. He had never felt proud of an academic achievement in his life. He hoped, just maybe, his father might be proud too.
When he got to the office, Charles Reed was already there. He stood by the window in a sharp gray suit, glancing at his phone as if it had personally offended him. “You’re late,” Charles said, not bothering to look up. “Let’s get this over with.”
The school counselor, visibly on edge, handed over Lucas’s updated report. Lucas reached for it, but Charles intercepted it. He scanned the page. The grades were improved—still a long way from perfect, but showing steady progress. They were paired with glowing remarks from his teachers: “Shows initiative,” “Participating actively,” “Significant change in attitude.” Charles closed the folder with a flat, dull snap.
“This is what you call progress?” Lucas let out a slow breath. “I’m trying, honestly.” “Trying with who?” Charles demanded. “The last tutor quit. Who’s been helping you?” Lucas paused. He didn’t want to expose Evelyn. But he knew it was time. “Evelyn. The janitor.”
A heavy silence filled the office. Charles blinked, then let out a dry, sharp laugh. “You’re kidding.” “She used to be a professor—” “She’s a janitor,” Charles cut in. “Is that all that matters?” Lucas’s voice rose, gaining strength. “She taught me more than any of your overpriced tutors. She taught me to think.”
Charles took a step toward him, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. “You’re embarrassing this family. You’re wasting time with people who have nothing to offer.” “She sees me. You never did.” Charles stared at his son as if he were a complete stranger. “If you keep going down this road, you lose everything. No car, no money, no name. Don’t test me.”
Lucas felt the words burning on his tongue, but he said them anyway. “Maybe I need to lose everything to figure out who I actually am.” Charles didn’t reply. He just turned and walked out.
The following week, Lucas was quieter. He was angrier. But he wasn’t defeated. The other students noticed the change. So did the teachers. Rumors began to circulate. Some whispered that Lucas was obsessed with the janitor. Others mocked him openly. Josh struck again, sharing a video of Lucas sitting with Evelyn after hours. The caption read: “Lessons from Losers.” Lucas didn’t even flinch. Instead, he printed his essay and posted it on the school’s official reading board. The title: “Learning Doesn’t Make Me Weak. Ignorance Does.” The paper was torn down the next day, but the message… that had already taken root.
Monday morning arrived with an unusual quiet. The rain had passed, leaving a gray but calm sky. Lucas entered the school early, a coffee in one hand and his notebook in the other. He located Evelyn in the back hallway, mopping near the old science wing…
