The dishwashing station faces a small window that looks out onto the parking lot. While he works, Darius watches people come and go. Families heading to school and work. Construction crews grabbing coffee before job sites. Business people in suits talking on phones. All of them moving through lives he can only imagine.

At 7:15, his shift ends. Time for the real challenge: school.

Roosevelt High School squats like a tired brick building on the east side of town. The building needs paint. The computers are ancient, and half the lockers don’t work. But inside these walls, Darius transforms. Here, he’s not the kid who washes dishes. He’s the kid with straight A’s who tutors other students during lunch.

Mrs. Patterson, his English teacher, notices him first. “Darius, you have a gift with words,” she tells him one afternoon. “Have you thought about college?”