“Well, Baxter, I give up,” I say to my brown Boston terrier sitting on my twin bed. I stand from my desk and collapse next to him. Baxter replies by licking my cheek.

At least Baxter sees me as a significant person. He does rely on me for food and walks, so probably not the most unbiased source. If only scholarship committees could be as loving and dependable as a dog.

Baxter jumps off the bed and twirls around in a circle. He barks twice at me and then runs into the hallway. Which means one thing: Dad’s home.

The front door opens as I take a step out of my bedroom and into our living room. “Hey.”

“Ally! How was school?” Dad asks as he takes off his work boots and hangs his tool belt on one of the hooks near the door.

“School was good.” I try to give him a convincing smile, although I know he’ll see right through it.

“Uh-oh.” Dad tilts his head at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” I plop down on our worn dark gray couch. “Did you know that I’ve not had one single significant event in my life?”

Dad pauses for a moment, then holds up a grocery bag. “I would disagree. It’s Taco Tuesday.”

“Ah, yes. That does take a little of the sting out,” I say. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it looks like Taco Tuesday is now Scholarship-Planning Tuesday. In fact, all fun events have been canceled until I’ve successfully applied to every scholarship available in the state of Wisconsin.”

Dad walks over to stand in front of me. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Ally Bean. Plus, I got hard and soft shells, so win-win!”

“Did you also pick up answers to these impossible essay questions?” I ask, to which he looks around in his bag like he might pull out a completed essay. “They’re all about accomplishments and life goals. It’s making me feel a little … unaccomplished.”

“Unaccomplished? My daughter? My pride and joy?” He sits down and puts his arm around me. “I need names. I need contact information. How dare they make my brilliant daughter feel less than. They will not get away with this injustice.” He nudges me and continues until I crack a smile.

“It’s a lot,” I admit. I made myself a list of all the scholarships I’m eligible for. If I do four a week, it’ll take a month to apply to them all.

“Maybe you should only apply to the ones that ask you about the person who has had the biggest influence in your life. That one will practically write itself.” Dad clears his throat loudly and points both thumbs at his chest.