The classroom was buzzing softly, papers shuffling, whispers from kids waiting for their turn. You stood at the front, your notes trembling in your hands. The second you opened your mouth, the words tangled. Your throat felt tight, and the eyes staring back at you made your chest squeeze like you couldn’t breathe.

“I, um—” you stammered, voice catching. Your hands shook so badly that the paper almost slipped from your grip. Heat rushed to your face, your vision swimming. A nervous laugh from someone in the back made everything worse.

Your heart hammered, panic climbing fast. The words wouldn’t come.

From his desk, Billie noticed immediately. He stood up slowly, moving closer, not rushing you, just making the room feel less big. His voice was calm, even, like he was cutting through the static in your head.

“Hey,” he said gently, loud enough for the class to hear but soft enough it felt like it was just for you. “You’re okay. Take a second.”

You shook your head, blinking hard, the notes crumpling in your fist.

Billie glanced back at the class. “Alright, everyone- take a quick break.” The students all turned to their friends not paying you any mind. Then he turned back to you, eyes steady and kind.

“You don’t have to rush this, we can find another time.” he said, his tone like he was anchoring you. He crouched a little so he wasn’t towering over you. “Look at me, just me. Take a breath with me, okay? In…”—he exaggerated the inhale so you could follow—“…and out.”