Peter Parker sat on the edge of the couch in the councilor's office, his fingers twisted together in his lap. The room felt so sterile—calm, but in a way that only made him feel more out of place. It was quiet, but the quiet seemed to make the thumping of his heart louder, his breath more ragged. He glanced at the bookshelves, at the ticking clock on the wall, and then back down at his shoes, unsure where to look, unsure what to say. The whole situation felt too overwhelming, and he was already regretting it.
“So,” the councilor, Ms. Green, said in her calm, neutral voice, pulling a notepad from her desk. “Let’s start with something easy. How’s your day been so far?”
Peter blinked a few times, feeling the panic rise in his chest. “Uh, it’s fine,” he said, the words feeling too small. “Nothing major. You know... just, uh, school stuff.”
His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly tried to smooth things over. “Sorry. I mean, it’s fine. Really.”
His hands started to fidget again, fingers twisting against the fabric of his jeans. His leg bounced rapidly, and he scratched the back of his hand, his nerves making him itch there. It was a frantic, anxious feeling that he couldn’t shake. He just wanted to get this over with, but the more he thought about it, the more the tightness in his chest seemed to build. His eyes stayed trained on his lap, focusing on his hands so that he didn’t have to look up.
Ms. Green was silent for a beat, waiting patiently. “You seem a little tense, Peter. Is everything alright?”
Peter took a shallow breath. "Yeah, uh... I’m fine. My dad... my dad wanted me to come in," he stammered, his voice trailing off. “He said I should, um... talk to you or... or to my teacher directly, but I didn’t want to... you know?”
He wasn’t even sure why he was telling her this, but the words spilled out anyway. He wiped his palms on his jeans, trying to keep himself from scratching at the back of his hand again. It didn’t help, though—his skin felt like it was crawling.
Ms. Green nodded, her gaze gentle. “So your dad suggested coming to see me instead of going to the teacher? That’s understandable.”
Peter nodded quickly, looking down. “Yeah. I’m sorry about it... I, uh... just... he said I either talk to you or my teacher, and, well, I didn’t want to face him,” he muttered, his heart racing again. “So... yeah.”
The councilor gave him a small, understanding smile, though it didn’t quite help to calm Peter’s nerves. “It’s okay, Peter. I’m glad you’re here. We don’t have to dive into anything right away. Let’s just take it slow.”
Peter forced himself to nod, but the room still felt too big. The silence in between them felt thick, suffocating, and it made his thoughts whirl. He knew he had messed up with his teacher. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t know how to fix it.
“I—uh,” Peter started again, but his throat felt tight. “I don’t know how to fix it. I messed up, you know? I didn’t turn in my homework, and Mr. Harris is mad at me. He... he’s right to be mad. I’m... I’m sorry. I just didn’t try hard enough. I don’t know why I didn’t, but I didn’t.”
As he spoke, his leg bounced faster. He scratched at the back of his hand again, feeling the urge to dig deeper. His fingers dug into his palm instead, trying to steady himself.
Ms. Green was quiet for a moment, allowing him to continue, but her gaze never wavered, steady and kind. She seemed to know he was struggling to get the words out.
“I just... I know it’s my fault,” Peter continued, his voice softer now. “I should’ve done better. But... it’s hard. It’s hard to focus sometimes.” His chest tightened, and his breath quickened as his thoughts spiraled. “I know it’s my fault. I really do.”
Ms. Green gave him a small nod. “It sounds like you’re being very hard on yourself, Peter,” she said, her tone calm. “Mistakes are part of learning, and I can tell you care about doing better. It’s okay to not have everything figured out yet.”
Peter shook his head, feeling the tears welling up behind his eyes, but he forced them back. “I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve been better. I just—I don’t want to disappoint anyone, you know?”
“I understand,” Ms. Green said gently. “It’s tough when you feel like you’ve let someone down. But you’re here now, and that’s the first step. Talking about it is important, even when it’s hard.”
Peter looked down at his lap, his fingers tapping against his knees nervously. The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder now, each second stretching on as he fought to breathe through the anxiety building in his chest. He didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to seem weak. But the pressure felt too heavy, the weight of his own guilt squeezing him tighter. He felt small. He felt like he was failing.
A few moments passed in silence before Ms. Green spoke again, her voice gentle and calm.
“Peter, can I ask you something?”
Peter’s head snapped up, his heartbeat quickening again as he met her eyes.
“Of course,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ms. Green smiled slightly. “How did you muster up the courage to come to my office today? It sounds like it wasn’t easy for you.”
Peter’s breath hitched. He looked down at his hands again, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his jeans. “Well, uh... my dad... he, uh, said that I either come to you or go back to my teacher and talk to him,” Peter mumbled, his voice low. “So... yeah. I just... thought I should come here instead.”
Ms. Green nodded thoughtfully. “And why do you think you were nervous about coming here today?”
Peter shifted in his seat, trying to ignore how his leg was still bouncing, how his hands were shaking. “Well...” he said slowly, trying to find the right words. “I don’t really like talking to people. I think it’s hard. And, like, I don’t know... I just... It’s hard to explain things. And I didn’t really want to be here, but my dad... my dad said it’d be good for me to come.” He scratched the back of his hand again, the urge almost uncontrollable now.
Ms. Green gave him a soft, understanding look. “It’s okay to feel that way, Peter. Sometimes talking to people can be really hard, especially when you’re feeling nervous or uncertain. But you’ve already taken a big step by coming here, and that’s something to be proud of.”
Peter nodded slowly, his chest still tight, but the words seemed to calm the whirlwind in his head, just a little bit. “Thanks,” he muttered, trying to force a smile.
Ms. Green smiled back, though it was more knowing than anything. “You’re doing great, Peter. And I’m here if you need to talk anytime. Remember, it’s okay to ask for help.”
Peter stood up, his knees a little shaky. “Yeah, thanks. I—I’ll try to do better. Thank you.”
“Before you go, I just want to confirm that it’s okay that I give your dad a call and debrief with him the meeting we had today? It’s okay to say no, maybe it will help him realize that you took this step?” Ms. Green asked as Peter stood by the door.
“U-uh sure! Yeah, that's okay” Peter said and rushed out the door
As he left the office, Peter felt a little lighter. The tension still weighed on him, but maybe it wasn’t all on his shoulders anymore. Maybe talking about it has helped, just a little.
Maybe tomorrow, he’d be able to breathe a little easier.