In My Skin

CH 51 || The Dermatologists Are On A Different Floor

I exited the bathroom just to run into one of the last people I wanted to see right now. Alicia's raised voice immediately drew attention. "Hey, watch where you're going—Wait, Taylor?"

The thick, sweet scent clinging to her triggered my skin as if a thousand little needles were tickling me beneath the surface. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to scratch my face as I tugged my hood tighter and avoided her gaze.

"Hey...what are you doing here?" she asked, scrutinizing me.

I struggled to appear casual as I said, "I'm looking for Killian."

"Wait a second. Looking like that?"

"L-like that?"

"I don't know what your deal is, and frankly I don't care. But my best friend needs her brother, family that actually cares. And Killian needs someone who can support him right now. He doesn't need another patient. And I'm sorry, but you look as if you can't even support yourself. The dermatologists are on a different floor."

Her words were like boiling water pouring over my head, burning my face. There was nothing to say. Because she was right. It was foolish of me to come here, thinking I could handle something as normal as checking on my sort-of boyfriend when he needed me.

After fleeing from the hospital, I found myself aimlessly driving around town until I somehow ended up on campus. My mind was consumed by the uncomfortable feeling, radiating from the crown of my head down to my shoulders, throbbing with each passing moment.

I'd fucked it. Killian needed me, what, once? And I had abandoned him, like a beaten dog with their tail between their legs.

Pathetic.

The parking lot was nearly empty, not surprising with spring break around the corner. Clutching my bag, I hurried towards the university library. Might as well return the last few books I had.

Focused on keeping my head down, I collided head-on with a hard chest.

"Woah, easy there," a male voice said, gripping my shoulders.

"O-oh. Sorry," I said, lifting my head.

My luck today was terrible. First Alicia, now Jared. I should have just stayed at Suz's place.

"Good thing I see you today," he started conversationally. "I've been meaning to ask you..." His words trailed off as he took me in. "I mean, are you okay? You look—I think you got an allergic reaction or something."

"Oh, y-yeah..." I stammered, his words crushing the tiny sliver of hope that it didn't look as bad as it felt. That, maybe, my condition wasn't as visible as I thought.

"Wait." He took a step back, a hint of apprehension in his voice. "It's not contagious, is it?"

I hugged myself, averting my eyes. It wasn't the first time I got that reaction—not that it made it any easier. That was the reason I isolated myself whenever I got like this.

"No," I said after a pause. "It's eczema," I admitted, tensing internally.

"Oh," he replied looking a little less put-out. "I thought it was something worse. I heard they have cremes for that. You shouldn't scratch that."

Only then did I register that I'd been digging my fingers into the crook of my arm. I flexed my muscles, tightening my fists until my hands were shaking.

"If it's that bad, you should probably see a doctor," Jared continued, oblivious to my discomfort. "Before you get an infection or anything."

My legs turned to rubber, and I stumbled backward as if the ground had been yanked from beneath me. This was the look. Part pity, part discomfort.

"I know what to do," I snapped. The itching intensified as if fueled by the shame and guilt flooding me. The itching was an insatiable predator. Once you started, it wouldn't be satisfied until my flesh laid bare and the pain blocked out everything else.

"I—Jeez, I was just trying to help. Girls always value their skin so much. They probably have products for this. Maybe some moisturizer could help."

Somebody called his name.

"Er...yeah," he said, suddenly sounding disinterested. "I mean, I hope you'll get well soon. I'll catch you later then." He waved, already turning away before I had a chance to reply.

Somehow, I returned the book and managed to make it back to my car without ripping my skin apart. As twilight settled in, I remained frozen, trapped in the torment of denying myself the relief of scratching, as if I were inflicting punishment upon myself.

I hated this. For a month, I had been living in a facade of normalcy, but it was just that—an illusion.

I could explain it of course. Killian would understand. He wouldn't abandon me because I was sick. But what if I never got better? A shudder ran through me as I recalled the memory of the last time, I had been sick. It had stolen away over half a year of my life. Half a year of isolation, where online games served as the only semblance of human connection. Understanding had its limits.

What had he said? The worst thing for him was to helplessly watch her condition worsen.

And it would affect him. Everywhere I went, I'd either had to fight the urge to scratch or fight the urge to endure the judging stares. The mere thought of meeting his sister, let alone facing the scrutiny of his entire family, sent a wave of apprehension through me.

What if something else happened and I wouldn't be able to be there for him? Wasn't our relationship already on borrowed time? Was this really fair to him?

My eyes welled up. No.

In the end, the issue didn't lie with him or his potential response. It was me. Me and my own inability to deal with the situation. All my relationships were destined for failure because I couldn't even fix myself.

At that moment, my phone vibrated with an incoming call. Killian. I stared at the lit-up screen, my finger hovering above the accept button. I continued to stare as the call went to voicemail, and the phone eventually went dark, severing the last thread connecting me to him.

He didn't call again. It was already eleven-thirty. Perhaps he thought I was asleep.

I knew what I had to do, and I had to do it now before we became too attached.

I stifled a cry, my chest tightening painfully, making each breath a struggle. Typing out the text message took longer than normal, my hands lacking the usual strength and coordination.

Blinking back tears, I clenched my jaw and started the car. I had to hold it together one more day. Just one more day.

Tomorrow, the one-month trial came to an end.