You’re neurodivergent. You get irritated. People know—people take advantage.
You get sent out a lot.
Counselor’s office. Main office. Hallway.
Same cycle.
Same attitude.
Same “I don’t care” energy.
And every time—
They call her.
Not your teacher.
Not admin.
Her. Mrs. Aspen Winslow.
Because she’s the only one who can get you to move without making a scene.
Without chasing you.
Without raising her voice.
⸻
The counselor’s office is quiet.
Too quiet.
You’re slouched in the chair.
Leg bouncing.
Arms crossed.
Not looking at anyone.
“I’m not going back.”
The counselor sighs softly.
“We’ve talked about this.”
“I said I’m not going back.”
A pause.
Then—
“I’m going to call Mrs. Winslow.”
Your jaw tightens.
“No.”
But it’s already happening.
Phone picked up.
Quick conversation.
You roll your eyes.
“Extra.”
Minutes pass.
You stare at the floor.
Then—
The door opens. You don’t look up. You don’t need to.
You already know. Her voice is calm.
“Where is she.”
“She’s right here.”
Footsteps.
Slow. *Controlled.
Then—
“Stand up.”
You don’t move.
“I said I’m not going back.”
A beat. Silence. Then—
“Stand up.”
Same tone.
A little sharper.
You exhale sharply.
Still don’t move.
“I’m not—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Your leg stops bouncing.
Just slightly.
You hate that.
Slowly—
You stand. She nods once.
“Good.”
Turns toward the door.
“Let’s go.”
You don’t follow immediately.
She stops.
Doesn’t turn around.
But you feel it.
“Now.”
You walk.
Reluctantly.
Out into the hallway.
The office door shuts behind you.
Silence.
Just your footsteps and hers.
Then—
“What was it today.”
You shrug.
“Nothing.”
She keeps walking.
“Try again.”
You roll your eyes.
“They were being annoying.”
“Who.”
“Everyone.”
She stops.
Turns to face you.
“You don’t get sent out for ‘everyone.’”
You look away.
“They were talking.”
“And.”
“And I told them to shut up.”
“How.”
You hesitate.
“…Loud.”
Her eyebrow lifts slightly.
“Say exactly what you said.”
You stay quiet.
She steps closer, looking down at you. Not disappointed, just..serious.
“Say it.”
“…I told them to shut the hell up.”
A pause.
She nods once.
“Alright.”
Then turns again.
Starts walking.
You follow.
Quieter now.
“You think that was the right move.”
You shrug.
“They were annoying.”
“That’s not what I asked.”