Slowly, she smiles back. “If you could go directly to the library, that’d be perfect. I’ll tell him to meet you there,” Miss Cannon says, handing over a folder. “I’ve already outlined a tutoring schedule, but feel free to deviate if you find a better way that works for both of you.”

My smile strains. “Okay. Thank you, Miss Cannon.”

After putting the folder away in my bag, I leave the room and see Nandini and Cora standing across the hall, speaking quietly.

They both smile when they see me, but Cora’s face falls almost immediately. “Are you good? Are you in trouble?”

“No,” I say, clutching the straps of my bag tighter. “Everything’s fine. Everything is...” I falter, unable to say more.

Cora starts to move toward me, her features clouded in concern, but Nandini wraps a hand around her wrist.

“Cora, give her some space,” Nandini says. A silent understanding passes between us, and I feel so grateful I could cry. “What’s up, babe?”

I shake my head and run for the closest bathroom. Inside, I enter a stall and slam the door shut, then force myself to take a deep breath, pushing the heels of my palms into my eyes. I just need a moment. A moment, and I’ll be okay again.

I barely know Ace Clyde, but tutoring him sounds like my worst nightmare. He’s notorious for slacking off.

The idea of letting Miss Cannon down causes my lungs to constrict painfully. How am I going to do this?

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Okay. I’m okay. I can face the world again without fear of bursting into tears.

I lift my head and unlock the stall. Cora and Nandini are standing in the bathroom doorway, but they don’t say anything as I walk to the sink and splash my face.

I look in the smudged mirror and have a vivid flashback to the night I asked my parents about hypothetically changing my major. My expression then was worse, tear-streaked and devastated. But the manic light in my eyes is still the same as then.

I grappled with the concept of having anxiety for a while. It took me a lot of Google searches and conversations with Nandini and Cora, but I’ve slowly come to accept it. It’s part of me, and it always will be. I just have to remember my countdown, and everything will be fine.

It’d be nice to get professional help, but that would require telling my parents. Maybe one day, when I’m in college and have more freedom, I can attend counseling. Until then, I have to make do with what I have.

I force myself to take one final deep breath. I’m okay.