Mark sits at his desk, staring at the whiteboard as Mr. Collins—stern as ever—writes out a complex algebra problem. The numbers blur together. It's a familiar scene, one that used to make Mark's stomach twist in knots.
Mr. Collins: "Pop quiz today, everyone. Let's see who did the summer reading."
The class groans in unison. Mark blinks, caught off guard.
Mark (thinking): A pop quiz? Great. Of course it's this class. I barely scraped by in math the first time around… and now I'm supposed to ace it?
He grabs his pencil and stares down at the quiz paper. The questions aren't impossible, but they require focus—and confidence he doesn't quite have yet.
Mark (thinking): Come on. You're older now. Smarter. You've been through college. You can handle this…
But it's been years since he solved problems like this. His mind races. The symbols feel foreign, like he's supposed to remember a language he barely learned.
Minutes pass. He scratches down what he can, guessing on half of it.
Mark (thinking): This isn't going how I planned…
--
Markwalks out of the classroom feeling deflated. Jake catches up with him, tossing
an arm over his shoulder.
Jake: "Dude. That quiz was murder. Pretty sure I got like two questions right."
Mark forces a laugh.
Mark: "Yeah, same. I thought I was ready… guess not."
Jake: "Man, don't sweat it. Collins lives to crush dreams."
But Mark isn't comforted. He's angry—with himself. This second chance is supposed to be about getting things right. And he's already stumbling.
---
Later that day, in English class, Mark slides into his seat just as the bell rings. To his surprise, Ellen is seated directly across from him. The teacher, Mrs. Reyes, begins a discussion on The Catcher in the Rye.
Mrs. Reyes: "Holden Caulfield is a teenager who sees the world as phony. Do you agree with him, or is he just lost?"
Markis only half-listening—until Ellen raises her hand.
Ellen: "I think Holden's not just lost. He's scared. He wants to protect something
pure, even if he doesn't know what it is yet."
Her voice cuts through the room. Confident. Clear. Mark watches her, intrigued.
Mark (thinking): That's not how I remember her. She used to be quiet. Shy, even. When did she become so sure of herself?
He surprises himself by raising his own hand.
Mark: "Maybe he's just angry at himself. He pushes people away because he's afraid
they'll see who he really is."
The room goes quiet for a second. Ellen glances over at him, a little surprised. Maybe even impressed.
Mrs. Reyes: "Interesting perspective, Mark. Anyone else want to add to that?"
Mark sinks back in his chair, heart racing.
Mark (thinking): Okay… that felt good.
---
Mark walks toward the parking lot, his backpack heavier than it should be. Ellen
catches up to him, a small smile playing on her lips.
Ellen: "Hey. That thing you said in English… it was good."
Mark (surprised): "Oh—thanks. You too. You really nailed it."
There's a pause. It's awkward, but not uncomfortable.
Ellen: "I don't remember you speaking up in class much before."
Mark (shrugging): "Trying something new, I guess."
She studies him for a moment.
Ellen: "Well, keep trying. You're good at it."
She walks off before he can say anything else. Mark watches her go, a mix of confusion and curiosity swirling in his chest.
---
Marksits at his desk, textbooks open. He's determined to study for tomorrow—but the
day's events weigh on him. The quiz. Ellen. The strange mixture of hope and pressure.
Mark (thinking): This is going to be harder than I thought. I want to do better… but wanting isn't enough.
He flips through his math textbook again, this time slower, forcing himself to focus.
Mark (thinking): One step at a time. Just keep going. You're not that kid anymore.
---
End of Chapter 3