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“This was a big waste of time,” Michael added.

Blue said nothing. I gave up probably winning a Modern Warfare tournament—and my friends—for this, he thought.

“Second place goes to Waipouli!” the announcer shouted. Gasps reverberated through the room. Waipouli’s streak was over. The Waipouli students looked confused as they accepted their plaques, as if someone had played a joke on them. The other two dominant schools shuffled excitedly in their seats. “The first-place winner of this year’s competition is . . .”—the announcer paused.—“Kaloke!”

As his teammates shrieked and hugged, Blue could not stop laughing at the ridiculousness of the moment and the jolt of unexpected happiness it brought him. The announcer continued. “This small but mighty team has demonstrated to us today an incredible knack for unconventional understanding of the world around us. Let’s give them a round of applause.”

From the stage, Blue could see Waipouli students crying with disappointment. I’ve finally found something worth working for, he thought as he hugged his delirious teammates. I finally have a place to belong. Blue and his new friends were headed to nationals.

NOAH, PENNSYLVANIA | THE BAND GEEK

Noah was walking past the locker room showers on his way to the pool when Frederick called out, “Hey, wait up.” Noah turned.

“Listen,” Frederick said, “if I’ve ever said anything about your hair that seriously offended you, I’m sorry.”

Noah looked at him quizzically but saw that Frederick was serious. “Thanks, Frederick. I appreciate it.” Noah never learned what brought on the apology.

Districts passed by in a blink. Noah swam personal bests in his races, but wasn’t fast enough to qualify for states. He got over it. There were too many other activities for him to focus his energy on, like the Chess Club and ultimate Frisbee team. Socially, he wished he could hang out with more people outside of school; he could talk to students beyond his friend group, but didn’t feel comfortable suggesting afterschool plans. Academically, Noah’s counselor had informed him, to his dismay, that his class rank had fallen to number five.

Noah and Leigh waited in a physics classroom at the appointed time for their first recycling meeting. They had plastered signs around school advertising that Redsen’s recycling club would meet three times a week. A few minutes after the final bell, six students entered the room: Adam, a popular guy in Noah’s English class, with a jock friend; a senior pothead; and a few artsy girls who knew Leigh.

After a short question-and-answer session, Noah and Leigh explained the program’s logistics. Students were to encourage classmates and teachers to recycle, using bins in forty classrooms. Once a week, they would collect the bins and drive the paper to a Dumpster at Noah’s church. The volunteers would receive community service credit, and the revenue the students earned from the recycling center would go into a scholarship pool divided into thirds. The volunteer with the most hours (excluding Noah and Leigh) would automatically get one-third of the scholarship money. The names of the other volunteers would be entered in a raffle for each of the remaining two-thirds. “At the very least,” Noah said, “you can help by spreading the word.” The group seemed enthusiastic.

Over the next few weeks, the artsy girls disappeared because of scheduling conflicts, but the boys became recycling regulars, along with Noah, Jiang, and Leigh. Collecting the bins, which used to take an hour, now took fifteen minutes.

In English one day, when another popular boy threw a piece of paper into the trash can, Adam said, “Hey, man, you gotta recycle that!” Adam removed the paper from the can and put it into the recycling bin. “Come on, guys, you should help me and Noah with the recycling thing after school. It’s good!” Noah’s spirits lifted when he realized that a popular kid whom he had “had notions about” was so willing to help. Noah pledged to himself to fulfill his challenge. He was determined to finish the year on a high note.

REGAN, GEORGIA