Low Battery, Clear Boundary
Priya noticed it during third period, the way she noticed most things about herself — a little late and slightly inconvenient. Her jaw was tight. She had been grinding her teeth without realising it, and her shoulders had crept up somewhere near her ears. The classroom hummed with the low-level noise of group work: chairs scraping, someone tapping a pen, two people nearby debating loudly about something that had nothing to do with the task. Priya stared at her worksheet and felt the words blur.
It had been that kind of week. Two late nights finishing an assignment, a disagreement with her mum that still sat unresolved somewhere in her chest, and now a full lunch period ahead with the whole group. She liked her friends. She genuinely did. But something in her was already bracing, like a phone screen dimming when the battery drops low — still on, but conserving whatever was left.
By the time the bell rang, Priya had decided something. She gathered her things and found Mia waiting at their usual spot near the canteen.
‘Hey — are you sitting with us today?’ Mia asked, already scanning for the others.
Priya took a breath. ‘I’m going to eat outside by myself today. Just need a bit of quiet. I’ll catch up with everyone after school, yeah?’
Mia blinked. For a second, Priya half-expected pushback — the usual ‘but why?’ or the slightly wounded look that sometimes meant she’d said something wrong. Instead, Mia just nodded.
‘Yeah, of course. You okay?’
‘Just tired,’ Priya said. ‘Not bad-tired. Just — full.’
Mia seemed to understand that, or at least accept it. ‘Okay. See you after.’
Priya found a bench near the oval, unwrapped her lunch, and did something she almost never allowed herself to do in the middle of a school day: nothing. She ate slowly. She watched a magpie investigate the edge of the oval with great seriousness. She let the noise of the school exist at a comfortable distance, like weather happening somewhere else. Gradually, the tightness in her jaw began to dissolve. Her shoulders dropped. She noticed she was breathing properly again.
It was not dramatic. That was the thing she was still getting used to. She had expected that taking time alone would feel like giving something up, but it felt more like the opposite — like she was giving something back to herself. Twenty minutes later, she packed up her rubbish, stretched, and walked back towards the main building feeling measurably more like herself.
The afternoon went better. In science, she managed to contribute to her group without that undercurrent of irritability that had been following her all morning. When her friend Theo made a terrible pun about covalent bonds, she actually laughed instead of just producing the flat smile she had been deploying all week. Small things, but she noticed them.
After the final bell, she found the group outside the lockers. Mia was mid-story about something that had happened at lunch, and Priya slipped in beside her and listened. She caught up easily. Nothing had collapsed in her absence. No one had taken it personally, or if they had, they’d decided to let it go.
‘Good afternoon?’ Mia asked, as they headed for the gate.
‘Better,’ Priya said. And then, because it was true and she had not quite said it to herself yet: ‘I think I figured something out.’
‘About covalent bonds?’
‘About me.’
Mia bumped her shoulder lightly. ‘Deep.’
Priya smiled. It was the real kind.
Check your vocabulary knowledge
- conserving v.
- protecting a limited resource by using it carefully and sparingly
- unresolved adj.
- not yet settled or worked through; still sitting uncomfortably
- deploying v.
- using or applying something in a deliberate, purposeful way
- irritability n.
- a state of being easily annoyed or snappy, often when tired or overwhelmed
- measurably adv.
- noticeably and in a way that can be clearly felt or observed