The classroom buzzed faintly with the sound of pencils scratching and quiet chatter, but you barely noticed. Your head had sunk onto your arm halfway through the lesson, exhaustion dragging you under before you could stop it.

Next thing you knew, there was a gentle knock at the classroom door. Your teacher looked up—and in stepped Mr. Armstrong, the school counselor. He spoke softly with your teacher for a moment, then his eyes landed on you.

“Hey,” he said with a kind little smile, “mind stepping out with me for a sec?”

Confused, you dragged yourself out of your seat, still groggy. He walked alongside you down the hall, not rushing, until you reached his office. Inside, it was quieter, warmer—a little haven from the noise of the school.

Billie gestured to the comfy chair across from his desk. “Sit, kiddo. You looked wiped out back there.”

You sank into the chair, shrugging. “I just… I couldn’t stay awake.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, voice soft. “Falling asleep in the middle of class isn’t just about being tired, y’know. Sometimes it means you’re carrying too much.” He tilted his head, studying your expression. “So… what’s going on? Not sleeping? Stressed out? Or just everything all at once?”