The week moved slowly. I tried my best to stay out of trouble, keep my cool, and focus on my studies. I didn't talk much in class, didn't argue, and definitely didn't lash out — even when someone knocked over my lunch tray "by accident."
Tope noticed. "You're doing great," she said one afternoon. "I know it's not easy."
I shrugged. "Sometimes it feels like no one cares if I change."
She looked me dead in the eyes. "I care."
That made all the difference.
But just when I thought things were getting better, our physics teacher made an announcement.
"There's an inter-school quiz competition next week," she said. "We'll be selecting two students to represent the school. One of them… will be chosen today."
Everyone sat up straight. This was a big deal — a chance to make the school proud. I was shocked when she looked straight at me.
"You," she said, and this time her voice wasn't cold — it was curious. "Do you think you're ready for a second chance?"
The whole class turned to me. I froze for a second, then nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am. I'll do my best."
A faint smile crossed her face. "Good. You'll be paired with Tope. Let's see what you've got."
My heart skipped. Me and Tope — on the same team? This could be a real shot at redemption.
But not everyone was happy. During break, one of the guys from class cornered me. "You? Representing the school? That's a joke."
I wanted to lash out, but I remembered Tope's voice: "Face the problem head-on."
So I just smiled. "Guess we'll see who's laughing when we win."
He scoffed, walking away, but I knew this was only the beginning. I had one week to prove myself — to my teacher, my classmates, and most of all, to myself.
This was more than just a competition. This was my second chance.
That night, I sat at my desk with my physics textbook wide open. For once, I wasn't staring at the pages absentmindedly — I was actually reading. Highlighting. Re-reading.
The room was quiet, just the sound of my pen scribbling notes and the ticking clock on the wall. I could almost hear Tope's voice in my head: "Clear your mind. Focus."
I sighed, stretched my arms, and flipped to the next chapter. Newton's laws, formulas, practice questions — it was all starting to make sense.
For the first time in a long while, I wasn't studying because I had to. I was studying because I wanted to — to prove that I was more than just a "troublemaker."
I smiled to myself and whispered, "We're winning this thing."
Then I got back to it — me and my book, chasing a second chance.