*Nicole's POV*
I walk through the marble-lined hallway leading to the elevator of the prestigious office building.
I rapidly press the elevator button, halfway believing that it will make it come faster. I guess I'm just nervous. I mean, I'm always nervous, but I'm especially nervous when it comes to meeting new people.
My parent's felt that my anxiety was getting out of control lately. When they told me I would be going to therapy, I felt my stomach twist itself into knots the minute the words entered my mind.
Therapy.
As in talking to someone you don't know about your deepest, darkest personal issues.
Just the thought of it freaked me out.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my Mother dropped the biggest bombshell she possibly could on me-
The therapist I would be seeing was a man.
When I questioned my Mom as to why she would make me an appointment with a male therapist, she simply said that all the online reviews said he was "the sweetest thing on two feet" and "the best therapist for someone with my 'issues'".
Anyone who knows me knows that my biggest fear on earth is the male species. All through junior high and high school, I had normal crushes like any other girl would. The only difference between me and the other girls was that they eventually got boyfriends.
I ended up graduating without ever going on a date, having my first kiss or even hugging a guy. I used to not be insecure about it, but it wasn't until everyone around me made it into a big deal that I started to care.
"You're so pretty! How do you not have a boyfriend?"
"Aren't you lonely?"
"Maybe if you actually made an effort and went for the first move..."
These were all the things people would say to me. I used to just shake it off and tell myself there was no need to be upset about it- that I was young and there was no pressure to rush into a relationship even though I did want to know what love felt like.
I was doing fine until the night of my 18th birthday 3 weeks ago.
"I'm sad you didn't have a boy to take you to the prom." my Mom said to me on the car ride home from my celebration dinner.
It was a statement that was uncalled for, but still opened the doors for my mind to truly grasp what I had done to myself. I had spent my entire high school career introverted- putting myself into a bubble so I didn't have to fear people hating the real me.
Because of this, I didn't even know who the real me was.
And now, I'm probably the shyest person on earth because of it.
I snap myself out of my overthinking to see the elevator doors opening. To my relief, there is no one inside. Hopefully, I can make it up to the 10th floor without anyone dropping in. Elevator rides are very high on my list of things that give me anxiety. Especially in elevators, like this one, that don't even play music to take the edge off the awkwardness.
I watch the doors start to close when a large hand interjects to hold them open.
My heart skips a beat.