Max’s report card made its way home from school. Like everything else sent home from bps, it arrived without fanfare or context. It had a bunch of 3s and 4s on it, so, great, but max wasn’t very excited.
Except in “Writing,” that is, where he had gone from a 2 to a 3 since the fall. “I guess I improved at that,” he said, eating some of his waffle and getting syrup all over the card.
“Yeah,” said Abe. “You crushed it, Maxie.”
Max didn’t look up. He was counting up the days he was marked absent and trying to remember what he had done on those days. “Yes,” he said absently. “Yes I did crush it.”