Tuck

Katie's office was quiet.

Not silent.

The vent above her filing cabinet hummed. Her computer made a soft clicking noise every few seconds. Somewhere outside, a locker slammed and somebody laughed too loudly before the hallway settled again.

But compared to the classroom, it was quiet.

Ella walked me inside and stopped near the door.

Katie looked up from her desk.

She took one look at me and closed whatever she had been working on.

"What happened?"

"I panicked in class," I said.

Ella glanced at me, probably surprised I had answered for myself.

Katie stood.

"Sit wherever you're comfortable."

I chose the couch because it was farther from her desk.

Ella sat beside me.

Katie stayed standing for a second, watching the way I kept rubbing my palms against my jeans.

"Is Sparky okay?" she asked.

"Danny texted me. Dr. Saunders isn't admitting him. He's going home."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

Katie waited.

I hated that.

Not because she was doing anything wrong.

Because she knew there was more.

She was Ryder's wife, but more importantly right now, she was the school counsellor. She knew all of us because we had spent enough time in her office over the years, and she knew when one-word answers meant I was trying to get out of talking.

She moved into the chair across from the couch.

"Do you want Ella to stay?"

I looked at Ella.

She gave me a small shrug.

"Whatever you want."

"I don't know."

"That's okay," Katie said. "You don't have to decide immediately."

I frowned.

"Can she stay for a minute?"

"Of course."

Ella shifted closer, but she did not touch me.

Katie leaned back slightly.

"You got the update you were waiting for."

"Yes."

"And Sparky is safe."

"Yes."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I should be."

"That wasn't the question."

I stared at the floor.

"My breathing is better."

"That's something."

"My heart isn't going as fast."

"Good."

"I still feel wrong."

Ella turned toward me.

Katie's expression stayed calm.

"What does wrong feel like?"

"I don't know."

"Try."

I pressed my hands between my knees.

"Restless."

"Anything else?"

"Irritated."

"Scared?"

"Maybe."

"Do you still feel scared about Sparky?"

"No. I mean, I'm still worried about him, but Danny said he's coming home."

"So the original fear has eased."

"Then why do I still feel like this?"

Katie did not answer immediately.

That made my stomach twist.

"You're thinking something," I said.

"I'm thinking there could be a few reasons."

"Like what?"

"Your body may still be coming down from panic. Relief does not always switch everything off instantly."

"And the other reasons?"

She watched me carefully.

"You tell me."

I looked away.

Ella's knee touched mine.

I did not move.

"What if I'm becoming manic again?"

The words came out quieter than I meant them to.

Katie did not look shocked.

She did not rush to say no either.

That scared me more.

Ella looked between us.

Katie spoke gently.

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. I feel off."

"Off can mean a lot of things."

"Everything was bothering me in class."

"Like what?"

"The lights. Someone clicking a pen. People moving. Mrs. Kepler talking."

"Was she talking unusually slowly?"

"No."

"Did it feel like she was?"

"Yes."

"What else?"

"I couldn't sit still. My thoughts kept going."

"Going where?"

"To Sparky. Then the facility. Then Danny not texting. Then wondering if they had kept him. Then wondering why I was panicking so badly."

Katie nodded.

"All connected to the same fear."

"For now."

Ella looked at me.

"You really think this could be mania?"

"I don't know."

"That's why he's scared," Katie said.

I rubbed my palms harder against my jeans.

"I took my medication."

"I believe you."

"I slept."

"How much?"

"Seven hours. Maybe a little more."

"Did you feel like you did not need the sleep?"

"No."

"Did you wake up feeling unusually energized?"

"No. I was tired."

"Any missed doses recently?"

"No."

"Any changes to your medication?"

"No."

"Caffeine?"

"No."

"Energy drinks?"

"No."

"Have you felt unusually confident?"

I frowned.

"No."

"Powerful?"

"No."

"Like rules do not apply to you?"

"No."

"Have you had a sudden need to start projects, make plans, spend money, leave school, or do something risky?"

"No."

"Have you wanted to hurt yourself or anyone else?"

"No."

"Are you hearing or seeing anything unusual?"

"No."

Katie nodded once.

"That matters."

"It doesn't prove anything."

"No. It does not prove you are manic, either."

I stood.

The couch suddenly felt impossible.

"I need to move."

"That's fine."

I started pacing between the couch and the window.

Three steps.

Turn.

Four steps.

Turn.

Katie let me.

Ella stayed on the couch.

"My emotions are what get me into trouble."

"Strong emotions can make it harder for you to pause."

"They make me do stupid things."

"Sometimes."

"I got angry in class."

"You were frightened."

"I snapped at Ella."

Ella looked down at her hands.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"You already apologized."

"I'm still sorry."

"I know."

Katie watched me complete another turn.

"Did the anger feel good?" she asked.

I stopped.

"What?"

"Did it feel powerful? Energizing? Did you want more of it?"

"No."

"What did it feel like?"

"Awful."

"Did you want to yell?"

"Yes."

"Did you want to lose control?"

"No."

"Did you recognize that you needed to leave the room?"

"Mrs. Kepler told me to."

"But you also said you needed out."

I did not answer.

Katie continued.

"That sounds like panic and fear pushing into irritation. It does not automatically sound like mania."

"Automatically."

"I'm not going to promise you something I cannot know from twenty minutes."

"I hate that answer."

"I know."

"What if I wake up tomorrow and it's worse?"

"Then we respond to what is actually happening tomorrow."

"What if I don't notice?"

"You noticed today."

"Because it was obvious."

"You noticed before anyone had to force you to talk about mania."

I looked at her.

She was right.

I hated that too.

Ella shifted on the couch.

"Do you want me to go back to class?"

My chest tightened.

"I don't know."

Katie looked at me.

"You can ask her to stay, or you can speak with me alone."

I stared at Ella.

She looked worried, but not scared of me.

That mattered.

"I think I need to talk to Katie."

Ella nodded immediately.

"Okay."

"You're not mad?"

"I'm still a little annoyed that you snapped at me."

I winced.

"But I'm not mad that you need to talk."

"Oh."

She stood.

"I'll be in class."

"Can you tell Liberty I'm okay?"

"Are you?"

I looked at Katie.

Then back at Ella.

"I'm figuring it out."

"That works."

She squeezed my shoulder once before leaving.

The door closed behind her.

The office felt different without her.

Smaller.

Katie waited until I sat down again.

This time I chose the chair near the window.

"You asked if I wanted to talk," I said.

"I did."

"I'm not sure."

"You're already talking."

"That's annoying."

"I know."

I pulled my sleeves over my hands.

"What if this is how it starts?"

"Tell me what happened before your last manic episode."

"I got irritated."

"What else?"

"I stopped sleeping."

"Have you stopped sleeping?"

"No."

"I had a lot of ideas."

"Do you have a lot of ideas now?"

"No."

"I felt like everyone else was too slow."

"Do you feel that now?"

"A little."

Katie nodded.

"That is worth paying attention to."

My stomach dropped again.

"But one overlapping symptom does not make the whole pattern," she added.

"You're saying maybe."

"Yes."

"I hate maybe."

"Most people do."

"I need to know."

"I understand."

"No, I really need to know."

My voice rose.

Katie did not react.

"If I'm manic, I need to stop it before I do something."

"That is exactly why noticing early matters."

"What happens now?"

"We monitor the rest of the day."

"That sounds useless."

"It means we pay attention to whether your energy rises, whether your thoughts become less connected, whether you start feeling unusually confident or impulsive, and whether you can settle."

"And if I can't?"

"We contact your parent or treatment provider."

"Do you have to call them now?"

"Not unless you want me to, or unless your symptoms increase."

I looked toward the door.

"So you don't think I need to leave school?"

"Not based on what you've told me."

"What if you're wrong?"

"I could be."

"That isn't comforting."

"It is honest."

I leaned forward and pressed my elbows against my knees.

"I don't trust myself when I'm angry."

"Why?"

"Because I don't always know how far it will go."

"Did you know today?"

"I knew I needed out."

"Did you throw anything?"

"No."

"Threaten anyone?"

"No."

"Leave school?"

"No."

"Refuse help?"

"I argued."

"You argue when someone tells you the sky is blue."

"That's not true."

Katie raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. Sometimes."

"You were upset, but you still came here. You let Ella and Liberty help you. You told me you were afraid of mania."

I stared at the carpet.

"That does not sound like losing all control."

"It could still get there."

"It could. So we make a plan before it does."

I finally looked at her.

"What plan?"

"You stay here until you feel steady enough to return to class."

"I don't think I can go back in there."

"Then we find a quieter place for you to complete your work."

"That's allowed?"

"Yes."

"Ryder's class is later."

Katie nodded.

"Do you want me to tell him you may need a quieter seat or permission to step out?"

I thought about Ryder.

He would notice anyway.

He always noticed when someone stopped acting like themselves.

"Just tell him I had a panic attack."

"Nothing else?"

"Not yet."

"All right."

She did not push.

That helped.

"What about after school?" I asked.

"You follow your normal routine. Take your medication at the usual time. Avoid caffeine. Try to sleep."

"And stare at myself all night waiting to become manic?"

"No."

"That's what monitoring means."

"Monitoring means noticing patterns, not interrogating every emotion."

"How am I supposed to know the difference?"

Katie reached for a notepad.

I groaned.

"No worksheets."

"It's a short list."

"That's a worksheet."

"It is not graded."

"That isn't the problem."

She wrote anyway.

"Things that would mean you should tell an adult tonight," she said. "Not sleeping but feeling energized. Thoughts becoming hard to follow. Feeling unusually powerful or invincible. Strong impulses to do something risky. Rapidly increasing agitation that you cannot settle."

I watched her write.

"What if I'm just angry?"

"Ask what the anger is doing. Is it connected to something real? Can you slow down? Can you walk away? Can you accept help?"

"And if I can?"

"That is a good sign."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you tell someone."

I took the paper when she offered it.

My hands had stopped shaking.

Mostly.

The restless feeling was still there, but it was not growing.

That mattered.

I read the list twice.

"Do you think I'm manic?"

Katie did not answer immediately.

I tensed.

"No," she said finally. "I do not think you are currently manic."

Relief came so quickly it almost hurt.

"But," she added, "I think you had a strong panic response, and because some of the feelings overlap with your early warning signs, it is reasonable to keep an eye on them."

"So I'm not imagining it."

"No."

"And I'm not definitely starting an episode."

"No."

I leaned back.

"That's still maybe."

"It is a smaller maybe."

I hated that I understood what she meant.

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out.

A message from Danny.

Sparky wants to know if you're okay.

I stared at it.

Katie glanced toward the phone.

"You can answer."

I typed slowly.

I panicked. I'm with Katie. I'm not sure what's wrong yet, but she doesn't think I'm manic right now.

I almost deleted the last part.

Then I sent it.

Danny replied a minute later.

He says good. Then he says he's still going to worry until he sees you.

I snorted.

Katie smiled slightly.

"What?"

"Sparky's being annoying."

"That sounds reassuringly normal."

I put my phone away.

"Can I stay here a little longer?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to keep asking questions."

"I can stop."

"And you won't send me back to class until I'm ready?"

"Within reason."

"There's always a catch."

"There are school rules."

I pulled my knees up slightly and rested my heels against the edge of the chair.

The office was still quiet.

The vent hummed.

The computer clicked.

A locker slammed outside.

This time I did not jump.

"I should feel relieved," I said.

"You are starting to."

"I still feel like something is wrong."

"That feeling may take time to pass."

"And if it doesn't?"

"You come back."

I looked at her.

"That simple?"

"That simple."

I did not know whether I believed her.

But I believed she would notice if things changed.

I believed she would not panic just because I was afraid.

And for now, I believed I could sit here without the feeling getting bigger.

That was enough.