Chapter 2: Chapter 2

I nod my head as I try to smile back at her then turn away pressing my lips together exiting the office building and trying to prove to myself that I can do this. I tried not to pinch my arm again because it was starting to sting now and walked towards a building while looking at the schedule. It took some time to figure out if I entered the right building as I started folding the paper, wrinkling in my hands, and it took me a couple of minutes to find my classroom. I stopped a few feet away from the door feeling uncertain about walking into a room knowing that I’m in new territory. I crouch down wrapping my arms around my legs and covering my face as I take a deep breath hoping that I’ll calm myself. In the corner of my eyes a teenager, a classmate, steps out of the room and walks over towards me, but I tried to ignore him. I was starting to feel frustrated with myself and at the same time, I was getting a bit anxious that the person was still standing beside me making me feel like I’m being watched. He sat down next to me and was quiet as if he was keeping me company.

“You want to go to the restroom?” He finally spoke.

I shook my head and finally looked up, wiping my face with the sleeve of my long sleeve shirt.

“Can you leave me alone,” I mumbled

“How about we step outside? We can sit somewhere.” He suggested next.

I glanced over at him and saw that he was wearing a name badge on his shirt. “Who are you?”

He smiled, showing a small dimple only on his left cheek. “I'm the student-teacher aid. It's my senior elective.” He explained.

I looked at him seeing someone who is the complete opposite of me by looks and body. A dirty short blonde while I had dark curly hair; his eyes were light brown shade; he was far more built compared to me who feels so scrawny and short. Turning away feeling shy, wondering if I starred a little too long than I had meant to, and hoped that he didn’t notice. Honestly, a lot of people could have a better body built compared to me since I never took care of my health and have a very low appetite.

“Are you allowed to step out like that?” I asked him, now that I’ve calmed down a little.

“Not really... but I guess for you they'll allow it and the teacher was curious if you needed some help.” He said and his smile fades a bit. “My name’s Elliot. Elliot Thompson.”

“Michael Hernandez.” I introduced myself but I'm sure he already knew my name. I stood up to step away from the door before turning back to him. “What did they say about me?”

Elliot looked like he hesitated for a second before standing up as well and stood there. “Just about your condition... that you might not be too open to the class for a while and to make sure you're comfortable with the distance between the students. We're still a little confused about how to be around you…” He said, rubbed the back of his neck.

“It's fine. I'm not planning to be that interactive this semester…” I said then glanced over at him. “I don't want to go in yet.”

“That's fine. I'll go in with you when you're ready.” He said, watching me. “So how long have you had this condition?”

I glanced over at him and tapped the floor with the end of my show, “Almost two years, I think. It kind of built up to it a few years before that.”

I wasn't too comfortable discussing my haphephobia or the disorder that I’ve been dealing with but I can answer a few basic questions about it since a lot of people are always curious and I knew I should share some information.

He nods as he thinks about my answer and slowly holds his hand out towards me. “Let's be friends? I'll help you as much as you want to let me and I’m very patient so you don't have to worry if you think I'm bothered or anything.” He tells me. “I took AP psychology last year and I’ve been studying independently... Not that I think you're a test subject or anything of it but I just wish I can help you if you need help.”

I looked at his hands before slowly reaching out to shake them and felt a little annoyed by his introduction. “You do know that that sounded kind of rude... And a simple handshake doesn't always frighten me.”

He quickly let go of my hand after I touched it and blushed, “Sorry, I kind of realized that as well too after I said it... I didn't mean it like that.”

“It's fine. I know what you're trying to say. It’s great that you take psychology seriously, but I think I could use a friend more than feel like you're my therapist.” I said, clutched my hands into a fist, and looked over at the door that's still open.

“She's going to always leave that door open for you in case you feel closed off in the classroom or if you ever feel uncomfortable in the classroom.” He explained. “We weren't too sure if you were comfortable with opening doors either way.”

I pressed my lips together trying to breathe through my nose as I listened then slowly walked towards the door. “I would rather be the last person to leave the room right now and I don’t do so well in crowds. Where am I going to sit?”

“We have two empty seats to choose from: one in the back of the room and the other is in the front right next to the teacher desk.” He said walking beside me.

I thought about this for a second: the back sounds safe yet I have to walk past people every morning and it'll be a hassle to walk around everyone while I can just easily enter the classroom to sit right away but once the class is over everyone has to walk past me. The thought of people hovering over me gave me an overwhelming feeling. It made me feel sick or the stress on my body was now overwhelming me, but I wanted to change this school year and not pick the easy way out to just simply deal with it without making myself better. I took a deep breath walking to the door, being able to see the teacher writing on the whiteboard and she saw me standing there. She smiled softly, trying to welcome me in, and I glanced back at Elliot wanting to make sure that he was coming in with me. I can do this, I tell myself repeatedly. I entered keeping my head down and walked over to the front desk that Elliot told me about. It was in the far left corner of the room and it didn't seem that bad to sit at, but walking towards it felt so long and that all I felt was pounding against my chest. Elliot followed right behind me as if he was attached to me and grabbed a spare chair to move it nearby me.

“See, it's okay.” He whispers as he watches me and I heard the teacher continuing her lesson.

“It's not,” I told him as I still kept my head down trying to calm myself.

I wanted to focus on the lecture but my mind was still somewhere else. I covered my face as I’m leaning against my arm on the table and tried to take deep breaths. I was able to hear a pause in the lecture, maybe they were watching me cautiously, and a few people mumbling the teacher continued with her lesson. Maybe they’re waiting for a reaction from me because of the way my body language shouts discomfort and possibly they were unsure of what to do if I had an outburst.

“You want to go back to the hall?” Elliot whispers.

I shook my head, but I do want to leave the room and leave the school to crawl back to my bed where it was safe. Running back towards the hallway where it was empty, where there wasn't a room full of people staring at you like they didn't know how to handle you, and hoping to remove these thoughts of hands scratching deep in my throat because you're starting to feel isolated. My whole body tensed up as I felt this heavy feeling drop in the pit of my stomach that I knew what was going to come next. It was my nerves finally coming at me after having it all balled up after waking up this morning.

“I'm going to throw up,” I mumbled.

“What?” Elliot asked as he leaned in closer to hear me better.

“I need to go,” I said, covering my mouth as I stood up to run back out of the hall.

Everything was blurry as I returned to the comfort of the empty hall and Elliot suddenly came in front of me with a trash can in his hands. I took it as I instantly vomited inside it while trying to be quiet about it and the last thing I needed was for the class to hear me throwing up as I humiliated myself even more. I felt Elliot tug at my long sleeve signaling me to follow and I did after I was done. He led me down the hall to the restroom and held the door open for me. I was breathing heavily as I still gripped the trash can waiting to see if there was anything else for me to vomit; which wasn’t too much since I haven’t had a full meal since yesterday afternoon. Elliot turned the water for me so I could wash and I let the water splash my face hoping that the cool feeling can help ease me.

“I can't go back there… I shouldn't have gone inside.” I told him as I reached for a paper towel to wipe my face.

“What was so bad that it made you sick?” He asked, confused.

“They were staring. I felt them all staring at me and it felt suffocating because I’m trying to not let my mind feel like the walls were closing in on me.” I try to explain with my voice rising a little as I’m feeling my anxiety spilling out and I clutched my hands together. “I just want everything to stop.”

"Michael, breathe slowly,” Elliot said, reaching out to grab my shoulder because I was already shaking.

When I saw his hand coming towards me I could only pull myself away from him and stumbled a little trying to catch myself. “Don't touch me!”

Elliot raised his hands to show that they weren't near me taking a step back seeing my hostile reaction. “I won't. I'm sorry.”

I slowly kneeled down towards the dirty floor as I tried to fight off my tears. "Just not right now.”

Elliot watched me as I quietly cried for a couple of minutes while we both didn't say anything and it was just silence between us. It took me a couple of minutes to finally calm down but he kept his distance from me until we heard a small knock on the door and Elliot glanced over at me before stepping out leaving me alone. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt and Elliot came back standing slightly at the doorway like he was worried that he might overstep my boundaries again.

“Do you want them to call your mom?” He asked.

I thought about this for a second before nodding deciding that I couldn’t stay for the rest of the day. “Yeah, I want to go home,” I answered.

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