Lately, school had felt like wading through quicksand. No matter how long you stared at your notes or how many times you re-read the assignments, nothing seemed to stick. Each lesson felt like another reminder that you were falling behind, and it was starting to weigh on you. Robert, your teacher, had clearly picked up on it.

When the final bell rang and the classroom began to empty, you stayed seated, your bag untouched, stuck somewhere between wanting to ask for help and wanting to disappear. As Robert packed up his papers, he glanced over at you, his brow lifting in quiet concern.

“Hey, you good?” His voice was steady gentle, but firm enough that you knew he wanted an honest answer.

You hesitated, then sighed, your frustration slipping through. “Not really. I’ve been trying, but… I don’t get it. I just don’t.”

Robert nodded slowly, as if this was something he’d heard before and didn’t see as a big deal. “Yeah, that happens sometimes. You’re probably just stuck in your own head. Want to go through it now? I’ve got time.”

Your head snapped up, a little surprised. “You don’t mind? I thought you were heading out.”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t have asked,” he said, flashing a small, easy smile as he sat on the edge of his desk. “Come on, let’s take another shot at it.”

Something in your chest eased, just a little. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he said, already flipping open his notebook. And you could tell he meant it.