Mrs. Carter, a determined woman with tired eyes, moves swiftly between the stove and the table, packing lunches for her three sons. Marcus, the oldest at 16, sprawls on the couch, scrolling on his phone, while Jalen, age 13, sits quietly at the table, struggling to tie his shoelaces. The youngest, DeShawn, only 10, zips around the room, his hands busy and his mind racing. "Boys, breakfast is ready! Let's move, or you'll miss the bus again," "Yeah, yeah, Ma... Just five more minutes," "Marcus, you always say that! Jalen, do you want help with your shoes?"

Jalen lags behind, clutching his schedule slip, nervous about his new special class. Marcus walks slow, hands in pockets, eyes half-closed, while DeShawn darts ahead, scanning for his friends, already talking a mile a minute. "Jalen, it's just a different class, not a big deal! You'll be fine," "DeShawn, not everyone can switch gears like you, man," "I just don't want people to think I'm... different,"

Jalen hesitates at the door, feeling every eye on him as he finds his seat. The sounds of pencils tapping and quiet whispers make him shrink into his hoodie. Ms. Evans approaches, her smile reassuring. "Welcome, Jalen. We're glad you're here. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?" "Okay... thank you, Ms. Evans,"

DeShawn can't sit still, bouncing a ball, while Marcus scrolls through his phone, half-listening. Jalen stares at his shoes, silent, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. "So, how was the new class, Jalen?" "It was... different. I think I’ll get used to it. Ms. Evans is nice," "Man, school is just school. Just gotta get through it,"

Mrs. Carter watches her sons, pride and worry etched equally in her face. Jalen smiles as DeShawn cracks a joke, and even Marcus puts his phone down to join in. "You boys know, no matter what, we’re in this together. Different, smart, lazy, fast—doesn’t matter. You’re my boys, and I'm proud of you," "Thanks, Mom. I think... I’m gonna like my new class,"

Marcus stares at the ceiling, thinking about his own future. Jalen drifts to sleep, calmer than before. DeShawn whispers into the darkness. "We got this, right?" "Yeah, little man. We got this,"