The shrill fire alarm blared suddenly, rattling the windows and echoing off the lockers. Students shot up from their desks in a chaotic wave, chairs screeching against the floor as everyone rushed to the door. The sound was deafening, like it pressed into your skull and shook your chest at the same time.

You froze at your desk, hands gripping the edges so tightly your knuckles went white. Your heart pounded, breath catching in your throat. The flashing lights, the pushing bodies, the sheer noise, it was too much. You couldn’t move.

Billie was by the door, directing kids out with his usual calm but firm voice. But when he looked back and saw you still sitting there, wide-eyed and trembling, something shifted in his face.

“Hold up, guys- keep moving,” he told the rest of the class, waiting until they were gone. Then he came back to you, crouching down so he was at eye level. His voice dropped low, cutting gently through the siren.

“Hey. It’s okay. Don’t worry about the crowd, don’t worry about the noise. Just look at me.”

Your vision blurred as your breathing got shallower, panic clawing at your chest. You shook your head, unable to get words out.

Billie didn’t touch you, but he held out his hand just a little, a safe distance away. “We don’t have to rush. It's just a drill but we need to join the others outside alright? Just stick with me.”