Y07W20RC Reflect the Feeling

Sounds Like You’re Stuck

By the time the last bell went, the courtyard had that loose, end-of-day feeling where everyone seemed half-finished with something. Bags were open, ties were gone, and people were already talking about sport, buses and what they were having for dinner. Neve found Priya on the low brick wall outside the library, staring at a planner like it had personally offended her. There were coloured tabs sticking out of it in every direction. Priya usually kept things neat enough to frighten stationery. Today, her pencil case was upside down in her lap and one highlighter had somehow lost its lid.

‘You okay?’ Neve asked, dropping her bag beside her.

Priya gave a short laugh that had no actual amusement in it. ‘Absolutely thriving,’ she said. Then she lifted the planner and read from it in a flat voice. ‘Science notes. Maths corrections. English paragraph. Music practice. Group chat exploding because no one can agree on the history slides. Also I told Mum I’d help with my brother after school because apparently Past Priya enjoys making bold promises.’ She snapped the planner shut. ‘I know none of this is the end of the world. I just cannot work out what to do first.’

Neve sat down without answering straight away. That was partly because she cared, and partly because she nearly said, ‘Just start with maths,’ which suddenly sounded like the most irritating sentence on earth. Priya kept going anyway, words coming quicker now.

‘And the annoying part is, everyone keeps giving me advice like I’m a broken machine. Make a list. Start early. Do one thing at a time. Thanks, excellent, never considered that.’ She rubbed one hand over her forehead. ‘I already have a list. The list is the problem. It’s like my brain is trying to open twelve tabs at once.’

Neve looked at her for a second. Priya’s shoulders were tight. Her jokes had gone thin. Even the way she was holding the planner looked defensive, like it might fly away if she let go. So Neve tried something different.

‘Sounds like you’re stuck,’ she said. ‘Not lazy. Not disorganised. Just properly jammed.’

Priya stopped moving. ‘Yes,’ she said, and this time the word came out with a bit of air in it, like something had been unblocked. ‘That. Exactly that.’ She stared at the planner, then at Neve. ‘Everyone keeps acting like I need a better system, but I think I just hit a wall.’

Neve nodded. ‘That makes sense. It also sounds like everything’s piled into one giant shape, so every job feels the same size.’

Priya let out a breath through her nose. ‘I could actually cry from how accurate that is, which is slightly embarrassing.’

‘You don’t have to cry,’ Neve said. ‘But you are allowed to admit it’s a lot.’

For a moment they just sat there while a group of Year 8s thundered past chasing a hat across the oval. Priya’s grip on the planner loosened. When she spoke again, her voice had changed. It was still tired, but less sharp.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Can I tell you the real annoying bit? I don’t actually need help with all of it. I just need help getting my brain to stop acting like everything is urgent.’

‘That seems like important information,’ Neve said.

Priya smiled a little. ‘I know. I’m having a breakthrough on a brick wall.’

Neve smiled back, then kept her tone careful. ‘I can stay with you for ten minutes and help sort it, if you want. But I can’t do the whole afternoon, because Dad’s picking me up soon.’

That was the boundary, plain and simple, and Priya did not flinch from it. If anything, she seemed relieved by how clear it was.

‘Ten minutes would actually help,’ she said. ‘I don’t need rescuing. I just need the pile to stop yelling at me.’

‘Beautiful,’ Neve said. ‘Let’s silence the pile.’

She pulled the planner between them and turned to a clean page. ‘First question: what has to be done tonight, and what just feels noisy?’

Priya hesitated, then started sorting aloud. The science notes were due tomorrow. The English paragraph was important, but not due until Monday. Music practice could be shorter than usual. The group chat about history could wait until after dinner because nobody in that chat was making better decisions at 3:28 pm. As Priya spoke, Neve wrote three headings: tonight, later, and not my problem right this second. That last one made Priya laugh properly.

‘Put the group chat there,’ Priya said, pointing. ‘Massive emotional energy, almost zero practical value.’

‘Excellent category,’ Neve said.

By the time they finished, the page looked calmer. Not empty, not magical, but organised in a way that made the jobs feel manageable instead of enormous. Priya tapped the list with one finger.

‘This is so much less terrifying,’ she said. ‘Nothing actually disappeared. It just stopped being one giant blob.’

‘That’s because blobs are dramatic,’ Neve said. ‘Lists with categories are mildly judgmental, but useful.’

Priya shook her head, smiling now. ‘The weird thing is, the sentence helped more than the list.’

‘Which sentence?’

‘’Sounds like you’re stuck,’’ Priya said. ‘It made me feel less… defective. Like I wasn’t failing at school. I was just jammed for a minute.’

Neve shrugged, though she felt quietly pleased. ‘Well, you did look jammed.’

‘Thank you,’ Priya said with mock dignity. ‘That is the nicest terrible description I’ve had all week.’

Her phone buzzed with three new history messages, and for the first time she did not grab it immediately. She turned it face down on the wall. ‘After dinner,’ she said firmly.

‘Strong choice.’

‘Very mature of me,’ Priya said. Then she tucked the planner into her bag and stood up. ‘I’m going home, doing science first, helping my brother, then doing twenty minutes of English. If I still hate everything after that, I will revisit the emotion.’

‘Reasonable,’ Neve said, standing too.

Priya adjusted her bag strap and looked less like someone being chased by invisible paperwork. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Not for fixing it. Just for not making me feel ridiculous.’

‘I know the difference,’ Neve said.

As they headed towards the gate, Priya’s step had lightened enough to notice. The work had not vanished. The evening had not become easy. But the conversation had shifted something important: once Priya felt heard, she could choose a next step instead of arguing with the whole pile at once. Sometimes the best help was not a grand solution. Sometimes it was one honest sentence that reflected the feeling back clearly enough for the other person to breathe.