BRYCE
Two weeks had passed since I'd accepted the scholarship.
Two weeks of my life being almost normal for the first time since starting college.
Classes were going well. Actually going well, not just barely-surviving well. I'd gotten an A-minus on my Constitutional Law midterm—would've been a solid A if I hadn't second-guessed myself on the essay portion. My Medieval Lit professor had pulled me aside after class yesterday to ask if I wanted to be a TA next semester. Said my analysis of courtly love traditions showed "exceptional insight."
Biology was finally making sense now that I had time to actually attend lab sessions instead of rushing off to work halfway through. I could stay for office hours. Could study with classmates. Could actually learn instead of just cramming enough information to pass tests.
My GPA was climbing steadily. 3.6 this semester so far. Best it had been since freshman year.
