One-Shot Collection

I sighed as I stared at the computer screen, re-reading what was written in the plain, Times New Roman font.

“Ereuthrophobia: the fear of blushing.”

I’d known of my intense fear since I was a young girl in first grade, yet I still sat at the computer reading over the fateful words each day. It wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t help it. I always had to check to be sure. My doctor has said that I might have an OCD pertaining this, though she has promised to keep it secret. My parents have no knowledge of my ereuthrophobia.

To this day, I still detest the horrid incident that brought about my phobia. I’ve lost so many friends over the years because of it, leaving me with the few that have accepted my way of life.

I’ve only had one embarrassing moment in all my life; that one moment decided the rest of my life.

When you’re six years old, it doesn’t seem like much matters. You don’t expect anyone to judge you, just accept you, because to you, everyone is the same. If six year olds could teach the world…

I loved my first grade class, the main reason being Oliver. He was my very first crush. He used to push me on the swings and we’d talk about things like the over-exaggeration of cooties. For being six, we were pretty rooted.

One day during recess, before claiming my swing, Oliver took my hand and pulled me back to him. He stood there for a second, a grip still on my hand as he bit his lip contemplating something. Then, he pulled me into a hug for the first time in our friendship. The warmth in my cheeks was set ablaze when he grabbed me.

He pulled away looking at the ground, but a grin set on his lips. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, rocking on his heels. “It’s just, you’re such a good friend and without you, I’m not sure how my first grade year would have been.” My face felt like someone shoved it into hot coals and buried it beneath them.

Oliver finally looked up, his blue eyes wide and curious. Then their emotion flipped to comical, his sudden outbreak of laughter startling me. “Oh my gosh! You look like a ripe tomato!”

“I do not!” My voice was harsh, harsher than I’d expected, and I quickly slapped my hands to my cheeks. The tears began to pool and make my eyes swim. Oliver’s chortling ceased abruptly when he saw the state I was in. He attempted to reach out to me, in comfort I suppose, but I flew from my spot and sprinted to the bathroom.

I stared myself down in the mirror, absorbing my strawberry complexion under the filmy stream of tears flowing down. My hands went to the automatic faucet, collecting water to wash my face of the embarrassing color. It was my first time ever experiencing the phenomena. When the water failed, the tears fell faster, harder, and sobs began to rack my tiny body.

“Jasey, darling, are you alright?” my teacher’s gentle voice called from the bathroom door. I took cover in a stall, my sobs quieting slightly.

“Go away,” I called from the safety of the locked stall. I was scared of her seeing my flushed face.

“Jasey, do you need some kind of help? Should I contact your mother?”

I sniffled, deliberating. “Yes. Now please go away.”

“Would you like to talk about it, dear?” I rejected her offer. “Oliver is with me; would you like to talk to him?” Again, I rejected the offer, only more curt.

I grew a fear of blushing, believing everyone would laugh just as Oliver had. I didn’t return to school the next day and since it was a Friday, I didn’t have contact with anyone from my class until the following Monday. I completely avoided Oliver entirely, which was difficult since he wanted nothing more than to apologize.

My fear has forever since controlled my life, molding me into the perfect outcast since the third grade when everyone lost their non-prejudice touch. There isn’t a day that passes when my mind isn’t constantly preoccupied with the fear that someone or something will cause me to blush, leaving my walls of built-up insecurity down for the student body to ridicule me.

I turned off the monitor of the computer, not bothering to close the window since I would more than likely be back to make my heart heavier. My hand automatically grabbed the book beside the mouse as I rose from my comfy foldable chair. Reading is soothing, though I sometimes envy the characters, the ones most confident and have no fears that are permanently pasted in their minds.

“Jasey,” my mother called as I landed on my bed, “dinner’s ready!” I groaned slightly, but the gurgling of my stomach reminded me how hungry I actually was.

“Okay, Mom!” I left the book on the bed and swiftly descended the stairs.

I took my place at the table, my father already hoarding down the meal. He smiled as I sat chewing and swallowing before he asked, “What’s up, kiddo?” I merely shrugged, a common answer my father has given up on trying to pursue further.

“How was school, today?” My eyes flashed to my mom as we forked angel hair noodles into our mouths. Since I wasn’t brought up by wolves, I waited until my mouth was empty to give her the repeated answer of “good.” She scoffed, so I returned a quizzical look. “It’s always the same, trite, short answer with you. ‘Good,’ and nothing else. Why don’t you ever go into detail?” Her tone was light and joking, but I could tell by the play of her eyes that she was somewhat serious.

In my opinion, she wouldn’t want to hear the truth.

The halls of the school were crowded as usual, I only being seen by the choice few who cared to look. Of course, for those who didn’t look, or saw me and just didn’t care, noticed me when they ran into me, shoving me out of the way. I didn’t mind it, much, growing used to it as the time went on. I could see Oliver’s head bobbing not too far ahead. I loved watching his curls, the color of Werther’s Originals, bounce as he stepped in time with everyone else. My crush never really did fade after that day, though I think it should have for what he said.

I reached my locker, setting the combination and getting myself situated for the first block of the day. Oliver’s locker was only a few away, the distance tangible.

“Hey, Jasey,” Jersey greeted with a light tone. He stepped right in front of my view of Oliver, completely blocking him and breaking my self-induced trance. “Want me to walk you to class today?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Jersey virtually replaced Oliver when he first moved here. I guess loners stick together, never actually being alone. It’s too bad he couldn’t replace my feelings for the one boy who stole my heart in the first grade.

Jersey waited for me to gather the supplies I needed for my first block class, moving before me when I shut my locker. I stole one last look at Oliver, finding that he was looking in my direction. He grinned and waved, something new to his daily routine. I turned swiftly, biting my tongue to focus on something other than the heat bubbling up; I hid what I could of my face behind my books so no one would see the burning intensity that was my cheeks. As I laid the distance between us with my steps, I peeked over my shoulder. I swore I saw his face drop.

First block passed at a snail’s pace, the rest of the day continuing in the same manner. It was agonizing since all I could really keep my mind focused on was Oliver’s disappointed expression that morning. I had nearly sprinted out the door to avoid his stare at the end of the day.

I contemplated what his reasoning was for waving to me; nothing seemed to come straight to mind. We hadn’t spoken since he finally left the idea of apologizing to me alone. What could have possibly possessed him to carry out his action, simple loneliness? Then the thought of him missing me ran through my list, making my heart flitter and skip a few beats. Even though I was home alone in my room, I still tried to cover the heat in my cheeks, hiding it away from whoever I subconsciously thought was watching.

The next morning, I was hesitant to walk through the halls. I wondered what the best pace to walk at was, attempting to calculate arrival time of myself and Oliver. I wanted to evade him and the unbearable blushing that followed him. Without trying very hard, I reached my locker with feel of ease when I didn’t see him at his.

I dialed the familiar combo, beginning to situate myself when I felt the stare of someone on my back. “Um, hi, Jasey,” rang the familiar voice, though the tone had changed with the alterations of growing up. I was tentative to look back and answer. “It’s Oliver, Jase, if you didn’t know.” Everything around us seemed to fall silent, like the entire student body decided not to show up at school with the exception of us; I could only hear his voice. “Could you please turn around? It’s difficult to talk to you properly without seeing your face.” Timidly, unsure if what I was doing was the right choice, I fixed myself so he could look at my face that I knew was starting to become colored with a light pink.

I didn’t find his eyes; instead I stared directly at my feet, knowing that if I met his eyes, I would become more vulnerable to my fear than I already was. His smile was tangible in our little bubble of atmosphere that was separate from everyone else’s. “Wow, it’s been too long,” he whispered. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it with how low his voice became, but I did. “So how have you been these past few years?” I wondered if he knew that his attempt at small talk was plummeting swiftly.

“It’s been…okay,” I replied quietly. What else did he expect me to say, that life was grand living with ereuthrophobia that had developed nine years ago because of something he had said? Even if he had the slightest anticipation of me scolding him, I wouldn’t have the heart to.

“Oh, well…that’s good, I guess.” I only shrugged, letting the quiet invade the already dead conversation that should’ve ended before it even started. “I still apologize for what happened in the first grade,” he blurted, shattering the deafening silence. “It’s okay if you don’t forgive me, I mean, it seems I’ve ruined your life since then. I don’t think you’d be the way you are today if it wasn’t for my stupidity that day.” My eyes flashed up to his, reading their expression. They were so filled with emotion, I thought they’d spill over. I nearly drowned they were so deep.

I immediately regretted the decision to meet his gaze. My cheeks filled with a rich red color, a fire set ablaze beneath my normally porcelain-colored skin. There was little time to catch and prevent the reaction, the little time that I completely missed.

I pulled my books up quickly to shield my face from his intent look, the tears beginning to collect threatening to spill over like that day at recess that led us to this moment. “Jasey,” he said softly, his hand forming itself at the top of my book. He lowered my only protection gradually, a tiny, playful smirk across his lips. “Why are you hiding?”

“You’re going to laugh at the way I look,” I retorted a little angry.

He chuckled, I thought, at my flushed face, but when I tried to return my books to their proper place, he effortlessly trounced my efforts. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s only what you did during recess the last time I blushed so fiercely in front of you,” I spat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He didn’t relinquish his grip when I again tried to cover my raspberry appearance. “You know what I should have said that day?” I didn’t answer, my bitter tears of angst, anger and embarrassment becoming overwhelming. He continued as if I had. “I should have told you you looked stunning, just like you do now.” I finally reintroduced our eyes, disbelief and confusion written all across their hazel tinge. “You’ve always looked stunning. I would have never told you then, but I had the biggest crush on you in the first grade. I guess I could never really let it go. Stop trying to conceal yourself,” he ordered when I put my free hand to my face. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by the way you look when you blush; it really is beautiful.”

He removed my hand, placing it over his shoulder and the instinct to hug him absorbed me. For once, I didn’t care that someone was seeing my face in its most hampering state. I refused to release my grip when the bell rang signaling the five minutes we still had to get to first block.

Oliver had been the reason I developed ereuthrophobia, but he was also my cure…