Phobic.

Mistake.

Big, big mistake Ben.

Well fucking done.

I felt dirty, disgusting, covered with germs.

All I'd done was nodded when he asked if he could help me.

I'd felt a kick in my stomach when I held his gaze, adrenaline urging me on, but now, adrenaline long gone, I felt dirty.

The empty bleach bottle in the shower hadn't worked, no matter how much of the poisonous blue liquid I scrubbed into my skin, and now I was left with a tear stained face and red raw skin, towels tinged with blood and a worried mother. I wouldn't tell her what was wrong, of course, too scared of all these feelings to voice them to a person I barely knew anymore. I'd isolated my mother long, long ago, when I'd taken a look at her one morning and saw her desiccated corpse instead of her lively smile.

He hadn't done anything more than that, just smiled and turned his attention to the front of the class. The scary thing was, when I looked at him, when I looked at Parker, I didn’t see a corpse, germs, dirt, not unless I concentrated hard, I saw a normal person, trying to help.

I saw beauty, and with it came a kick in the pit of my stomach and a buzz through my veins.

It was terrifying.

I mean, what was this scary feeling?

Did letting Parker come even that close open me up to some kind of infection, and was the buzz whenever I think of him slowly killing me?

I had to find out.

There goes the feeling again, as I stand up and go over to the cupboard, ready to distract myself from my worries. Even his name sparked a rush through my veins. I turn away from the cupboard with my heart pounding.

Never mind about anything else, now, with a shocking new determination, I needed to know every last detail about Parker, and why on earth he would want to help me.

I figured since he was a city kid, he'd have Myspace or something like that, which meant the computer, which meant the other room. Way, way, out of my comfort zone.

Still, I make my way to the door, grabbing a bottle of Febreeze and some anti-bacterial wipes on the way, before cautiously calling through the stark white wood.

"Ma? Are you upstairs?"

"No Ben, why?" I hear her tired voice before taking a deep breath and opening the door, immediately filling the air with Febreeze.

"I'm going in the computer room!" I call back, my eyes falling on the mentioned room, its door sitting so innocently ajar, obscuring, for the moment, the infestation before its wall.

It was a small room, the only spare, barely big enough to hold the desk, computer and chair it did. I dart forward and use a wipe to open the door, slip through the gap, and quickly fill the air with Febreeze, the spray catching in my throat. I seize a wipe from the pack and quickly wipe down every single surface in sight, before turning on the computer with a hesitant touch and carefully sitting on the old office chair.

I sit, nervously, scaredly, glancing round the room with shallow breaths, not daring to do anything else in the stale air. The computer loads with the typical Windows tune and I draw the keyboard towards me with a quick touch, wiping my hand after.

I load up the internet, Parker Adamson, that's what I search for, on Google, and I find his myspace page. There are initials next to his name, ParkerPOISON, apparently, obviously something for the city kids, and I quickly click on it, feeling my heart leap into my throat and the nerves with it too.

There was that feeling again, an assault on my stomach, but it was kind of nice, the kind of feeling you wouldn't miss. I exhale as I see his photo, see his profile and take a quick look round.

It's full of cryptic one liners, the usual scene profile, telling me things I didn’t quite understand, but I knew he was the typical bad boy city kid. I click on his pictures, seeing most of them of him and his friends, laughing and joking with lots of alcohol. I see them lying on pavements, shirtless, rolling around, it makes me feel sick, think of all the germs. There's one of Parker and a boy with cherry red hair, just one, but it was in a separate album, making me think there was more.

They're kissing, and for some reason I can't look away. Fear rises in me like ink in my veins at all these feeling, and I click back on his profile to see if this red haired boy was mentioned. I find nothing, but note the 'Online Now!' sign is flashing. I click back on his pictures to see if there's a link to this cherry haired boy, but I find the pictures gone, Parker must be deleting them right now. I wonder why these pictures are disappearing, they could've been together, then split up when Parker moved here. But that would mean he's gay, and for some reason, I feel a jump in my stomach. My left hand reaches to clench the flesh to try and stop it. I take a deep breath, and exit everything, turning off the computer and making a decision that I would let Parker help me. Paranoia crashes through me as I think of all the possibilities Parker could push onto me. He wouldn't get it, no one would, he'd make me go out, to the park, to the germs and all the infestation.

He couldn't understand.

I was so indecisive, every time I'd think of a reason to let him help me I'd think of three more as to why he shouldn't. But for some reason my logical thinking stays in the computer room with Parkers picture, and as I tuck myself into bed, I find myself not wanting to wait until tomorrow to see Parker, and I couldn't wait to let him help me.