“Mr. Hill?”
The boy stood just inside the entrance, one hand still on the metal like he hadn’t fully committed to being there. Backpack on one shoulder, eyes moving once through the room before settling on Deion.
“You’re not supposed to be here today,” Deion said, his voice quieter now, not correcting so much as placing the moment.
“I know,” the boy said. “I wasn’t trying to… I just needed to find you.”
There was something in the way he said it that shifted the room. Deion took a step toward him, not rushing, just closing the distance enough to meet him where he was.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
The boy hesitated, then adjusted his grip on the strap of his bag.
“They called my mom yesterday,” he said. “About my grades.”
Deion nodded once. “Which class?”
“Math… and science.” He glanced down, then back up. “They said if it doesn’t change, they’re going to move me.”
“Move you where?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“Different track,” he said finally. “They said it’ll be better for me.”
The words didn’t carry belief. They carried repetition. Deion’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did.
“Better how?” he asked.
“They said smaller classes… more support.”
“And you think that’s what this is?” Deion said.
The boy shook his head quickly in a way that was barely noticeable.
“No.”
Deion let those words exist out there for a moment, then glanced toward the back of the space.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing. “Let’s take a look and see what’s going on.”
The boy followed him without another word. I watched them go toward a far corner of the room, the shift from doorway to table happening quietly, like this was something that had happened before in other rooms, under different lights.
Deion pulled a chair out at one of the tables in the back and motioned for him to sit. The boy set his bag down this time, unzipping it halfway, papers already loose inside.
“What did they give you?” I overheard Deion ask, taking a seat across from him.
The boy slid a worksheet over, then another.
“I don’t get where I fell off,” he said. “I was keeping up before.”
Deion looked through the pages, scanning each one without rushing.
“You didn’t fall off,” he said after a moment. “You missed a step and nobody stopped to make sure you caught it.”
Deion reached into his own bag and pulled out his laptop, setting it on the table and opening it.
“Let me check the portal,” he said. “We’re not guessing.”
