Time tends to feel incredibly long if you're expecting to get something by the end of it. Take, for example, an answer. Anticipation and dread are one in the same if you're restless. Waiting makes it feel as though lightyears have passed, especially if its in silence. It's like someone stretching a lump of toffee; you want to tear it in two, not have this useless bit in the middle. You want to ask a question and receive an answer, not have to wait an eternity of awkward silence and subject changing to get it.

I knew firsthand what it felt like to have to wait in suspense for answers I'd only get if I persisted on repeating my question and persevered until I got it through numerous attempts to distract me from the topic at hand. It was almost a daily occurrence with my mother thinking me to be too fragile to hear things. Those things, those squirrelled away subjects, would always revolve around me. Personal information, my information, that both my therapist and mother would discuss with each other before consulting me first. Wasn't that illegal? (With my luck around law, probably) It was because it was information about myself that I thought it so important to know.

It was to a certain extent that I could understand Axel's frustration about my vague answers that actually answered nothing, sounded more like riddles, and skirted around the subject he was inquiring about entirely. I'd been in his shoes and knew how frustrating it was when you just wished a simple answer. What I couldn't understand, however, was why he was so adamant about knowing this answer for it had absolutely nothing to do with him and was entirely to do with me. In other words, he had no right to know and I shouldn't have been empathising.

We were in my living room, Parker and I, when things started going rocky. Initially the day was set out for a mad game of Just Dance with Parker so that I could prove that swivelling hips weren't everything and I could in fact wriggle like a snake shedding its skin when given the right song. The battle had just been about to commence - we were positioned in front of the television and poised on the dance mat - when in tumbled Matthew, Axel, Topher and (much to my surprise and dismay) Hayden from the window, one after the other like some sort of synchronised act. I was past the point of caring about intrusion and simply applauded the show. Matthew took a bow and Topher sent a wink.

Then came the intervention.

"Put away the mat," Axel immediately instructed. "No time for dilly-dallying."

I pointed toward the television which had just turned black, the jazzy background beats having disappeared along with the picture. "But we were about to throw shapes."

"So sad, too bad." Topher said as he leant against the wall and swung my TV's plug around in his hand with a casual indifference to possible electrocution.

"Nobody told me our weekly book club was today, what a pleasant surprise." I said sarcastically.

Matthew, who had been licking on a striped Popsicle, froze and looked at each of the boys in turn with an awe-struck face. "Guys! You finally agreed to my idea? Did you read The Host like I suggested?"

"Why am I here?" Hayden asked the heavens. "Someone find me a steady beam to jump from."

"I wouldn't argue. I'd tie your noose for you." Topher stared at him through eyes like slits, and if that didn't confirm that things weren't quite peachy with them all just yet, I didn't know what would.

"What's going on?" Parker was glaring at his friends which didn't come at all as a surprise. Normally I'd tell him off for being so rude toward them just because he was hyper-aware of my presence, but I felt like letting him off the hook this time. After all, breaking and entering was one thing, but breaking and entering in the midst of an almost dance-off was another.

"Flora knows about Ian," Axel began.

I collapsed onto my sofa, dreams of busting some radical moves crashing and burning before my very eyes. "We have indeed established this."

"Which means Flora basically knows everything about us now. She certainly knows everything about you," He nodded toward Parker who was grinding his teeth together so violently I feared he'd need dentures by the end of the conversation. I took a moment to wonder what he'd look like when smiling if he only had his healthy, bright pink gums to display. "About what happened to your sister, Olivia, and your dad. Ian and the drugs. That's basically you in a nutshell, bro. But do any of us know about Flora? Like, really know?"

"Excellent, I'll tell you the story of my birth. It was a frosty morning when my mother felt the first contraction. The start of the many warnings her body would receive in the form of sharp pains that the brightest of all humans would soon walk upon this earth, and from her own womb no less-" I started but Axel hurriedly shushed me.

"No, no, no. Babies are nauseating. No stories of burps or diapers or umbilical cords, I want the proper stuff. You know our deepest secret, so we all think it's fair that we know yours. We had a vote."

I knew what was coming as soon as he'd said the word secret. Maybe I knew even before that from the way his expression had been sculpted into a sly, verging on nervous-excitement, sort of smirk. It was the same devilish smile you saw painted on the faces of children planning to steal cookies from the biggest jar on the highest shelf when their parents' attention was diverted from them. Unfortunately for Axel, this forbidden cookie was completely out of his reach.

"This isn't a democracy, this is a dictatorship." Argued Parker, squaring his shoulders all business-like having clearly jumped to the same conclusion as I had. Words couldn't describe how thankful I was that he hadn't joined forces with them.

"Down with the monarchy!" Matthew declared, running at Parker with my living room lamp raised in one hand as though he was charging into war wielding a sword.

Note: one major difference between a lit lamp and a sharp, metallic weapon is that the former has a wire attaching it to the wall. Matthew didn't get far and the room was plunged into shadow, the dim light provided by the setting sun outside the only thing left to illuminate the room with Matthew's sprawled body on its floor after the television's absence.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" I asked loudly, deciding that if this conversation had to continue then it best be out of the vicinity of breakable objects. I highly doubted that even the pots and pans in my kitchen would be safe, but it was better to sacrifice those than my mother's ornaments lining the mantelpiece which were sure to be the next victims.

They continued to bicker as they sat around the kitchen island whilst I prepared hot chocolate for everyone, save for Parker who I knew would opt for orange juice if I bothered to ask. I placed the steaming mugs down in front of everyone and handed Parker his fresh orange.

Parker smiled at the glass but it didn't quite reach his eyes; they were all crinkled and slanted which meant he was thinking too hard. He grabbed my hand once I sat down next to him and fiddled with my fingers nervously. His hazel eyes were literally screaming apologies about his friends but I shook my head hoping to let him know that I didn't blame him. He had to stop grouping himself with what they did. If one friend stepped a foot out of line he panicked as though he himself had done the wrong and believed I'd hate him for it.

Boys were bizarre. Or maybe it was just Parker.

Axel clinked his spoon against the rim of his mug for silence. "We are gathered here today-"

"My mum's working late again tonight but if you'd mind and hurry this- thing up anyway then I'd really appreciate it because I think she'd have a fit if she managed to finish earlier than usual and happened to walk in on this." I interrupted.

"Okay, we'll cut the niceties out then." He huffed. "This thing you speak of is an intervention hosted by us about you focusing on the topic of why you're afraid of touching. Like group therapy or something. You have quite a lot of issues you can share with us."

"Wait," I said. "I have a better idea. How about we totally do not."

"But if we fix your problem then we can hug every time we see each other." Matthew pouted.

"No you won't." Parker said as he tightened his hold on my hand. I didn't know who was squeezing harder at this point, him or myself.

"Don't turn therapy down so quickly. Things are still on the rocks with Hayden because he hasn't apologised for drugging the milk yet-"

"Which I didn't do." He growled.

"-but he did go to medical school for a short while-"

"He went for three days." Parker stressed.

"-and so we brought Hayden along so we could get a little more of a professional perspective on the situation." Axel finished, pink in the face from being spoken over so many times.

Hayden was eyeing the bulge in his jacket pocket which I knew held a pocket knife, apparently contemplating whether or not he should slit his own throat rather than sit here much longer. I didn't blame him.

"Why am I here?" He asked again to nobody in particular.

Topher took a drag from his cigarette and I watched the smoke curl up past his eyes and around his perfectly tousled hair like a toxic grey snake wrapping itself around its prey. "Sometimes I feel like being polite in front of the gorgeous young lady," He gestured toward me with a ridiculous twirling hand gesture. "Alas, today is not one of those days. Another pretty girl wanted my company and I turned it down for this so it better have been worth it. Right now I could have been getting a blowjo-"

"So many other places I could have been..."

I tried to slither under the table but Parker caught me by the waist and hoisted me back to my seat. "Guys," He said after giving my knee a reassuring pat. "This isn't cool. At all. Get out."

"We're just trying to help!" Axel protested.

"You do know I already have a therapist." I didn't particularly like people knowing about Doctor Greene but I couldn't find any other excuse as to why I didn't need their help. Well, I could, but nothing that wouldn't be offensive. Like Matthew having the mentality of a five year old, for example.

Axel looked affronted. "Well he's clearly not very good at his job. We would be better."

"What makes you think you'd be better than a fully qualified therapist?"

"I- We-" He stammered. "Because you know us and we're cool and don't force you to do things. Your therapist is probably demanding or- something." He finished pathetically.

"You don't force me to do things?" I thought back to being abducted from the school grounds, thrown into a car and taken to them after politely declining the offer of meeting up. "That is one fat slice of bull."

"Just try it out," His voice had taken a whiny edge and I couldn't help but think back to the time before I knew any of them and had genuinely believed they were all somewhat badass. The dark clothes, brooding looks, one night stands and cigarettes were nothing but a façade to cover how childish they all seemed to be within. Intimidating at times, yes, but were they the rebellious bad boys I'd initially thought them to be? I felt like laughing. "It might work."

"Look, you're not forcing her into a therapy session. This is ridiculous and I'm about this close," Parker raised a hand and put his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart to emphasise his point. "From throwing you out of her house and kicking you to the curb."

Axel, nowhere close to quaking in his boots at the glare he was under, simply drew his chair back with a squeak and wriggled about to make himself a little more comfortable, propping his dirty boots upon the table's clean edge. "Oh yes I am."

I rolled my head back, letting my hair fall like a chocolate river down the back of my chair so I could stare at the ceiling wondering why I existed much like Hayden was doing at present.

"Oh, dearest Doctor Cambridge," I humoured him. "What woe of mine do you want to know?"

When I heard him start rustling about, I swung my head back around to investigate. I'm not sure where he'd gotten the notepad from, for I knew we didn't exactly keep one in the cutlery drawer, but nonetheless he had one in his grasp along with an orange Sharpie. He uncapped it eagerly and began to scribble something down. I stared, bemused.

"What level of touching are you two on, now?" He demanded.

Parker and I shared a long and awkward stare. This was actually happening.

"What?" He said.

"I'm sorry?" I said at the same time.

"Well, you do this freaky hand snog where Parker goes all smoochy on your palm and you hold hands. That's basically all I know. Who knows what went on in Topher's living room but I don't think you sexed it up if you were talking about sexy vegetables." He said this all rather offhandedly but I could feel the heat crawling up my neck.

"Well I thought I did a rather convincing show. You left, that counts as a win." Due to the sudden awkwardness, I could feel word vomit wanting to spill out. The silence following my words didn't help much either, and so I felt obliged to continue with, "And for your information, a courgette is a very- appealingly shaped vegetable-"

"This is weird," Parker interrupted, whether to save me from my ramblings or just to stop the entire thing in general, I'm not quite sure. Perhaps a combination of both. "Flora's fine. We're fine. Why do you need to know our business?"

Axel threw his hands up in defeat and the notepad went flying. It fell to the floor in a flutter of pages by my feet and I picked it up to examine not words, but a picture of a bright orange giraffe. What the hell.

"Good shading." I remarked.

"I was just trying to warm her up to the question I wanted to ask, Christ almighty!" Axel exclaimed, before distractedly turning back to me and replying to my earlier compliment, "Thank you, I do like tonal change but it's hard with one colour."

Parker was losing his patience. "If you're about to ask what I think you are-"

"Why can't you touch properly and why do you never tell anybody about it, acting like it's normal when it clearly isn't?"

Silence; it was worse than the never ending chatter from everyone in the room.

Topher had ceased his absentminded backward chair swinging to tune into the conversation and Matthew had stopped licking his Popsicle. Even Hayden had snapped out of his stupor of staring lifelessly into his cold mug of hot chocolate to see whether I answered their long awaited question.

I knew this day would come at some point, I just hadn't expected it to come so soon. Or rather, I hadn't realised how much time had passed being spent with these weirdos and the question just felt sudden. In fact, for such impatient boys that were used to getting everything they wanted immediately, they'd waited a great deal longer than expected to confront me about it, bar the initial questions I'd been asked when we first properly met. That was no doubt due to Parker's adamance that they hold their tongue, but even he had to ask the dreaded question at some point if things were to continue how they were.

But I wasn't ready - not yet. I probably would never be ready, but I certainly wasn't prepared to delve into the secret I held closest to me in front of Parker's friends that at times could be so irritating I wasn't even sure I liked. I certainly wasn't fond of Hayden. Having him, of all people, knowing something that even my mother didn't know was just fundamentally wrong.

"If she doesn't want to answer then you can't make her." Parker said, but even he couldn't hide his underlying curiosity.

"What was the question again?" I searched my brain for diversions. "Level of touching? Oh yes. Well, ah, every Thursday afternoon I give Parker an erotic belly dance upon his lap, Tuesday's we knit and he caresses my hands whilst I deftly move the needles, and when he annoys me I give his face a tender pat with my fist which often leaves bruising."

Topher was laughing, seemingly torn between mumbling about what he could have been doing with someone else instead or buying a camcorder to film this TV gold. Hayden was on his phone, no doubt Googling different methods of how to commit without those near you noticing. Matthew was looking rather disappointed as his gaze flickered between myself and his dropped Popsicle on the table. Axel looked ready for retirement.

"I don't get why you can't just answer the question." Axel sighed.

"Why do you need to know so badly? It's none of your business."

"We're friends. Friends know things about each other. You know about us and now we want to know about you." He said it like I was being completely unjust and illogical.

"Okay, for one, you didn't tell me that big secret about all of you. I got that sent to me from a stranger who probably knew you'd hate for me to know. Why should I willingly give up my secret when yours was unwilling? Two, I'm not friends with all of you here because one of you drugged me, and when I was in la-la land I rolled into a fire and singed the ends of my hair off, which, let's face it, could have been my whole head. Three-"

"Haphephobia," Interrupted a voice. It was Hayden Cross; fun-sucker, happiness destroyer and hater of all things good. Hayden who spent his days reminding children that Santa didn't exist and running down puppies with his car with Jason calling shot gun. "Sometimes known as thixophobia, " He continued to read from his phone and it felt as though an icy bucket of water had been thrown over me. "Usually affects those who have suffered from real-life trauma that has taken place at some point in the person's life, probably in their youth, to trigger the exaggerated response to physical contact. They could be the victim of a horrific rape, assault, or molestation which unequivocally warrants a morbid fear of being touched."

The words had been said - there was no going back. He couldn't just swallow them up again and make them unhear it. What Hayden had read to them was irreversible and there was no amount of lying or covering up I could do to make them forget this. One of the things that was so great about hanging out with Parker, and even sometimes the rest of the guys, was how oblivious they were.

That was gone now.

Skylar had always had her suspicions and would hint toward it at times because we'd been close for years, and mum was so invested in therapy and Doctor Greene being able to heal me that there was never really a moment at home without his lurking omnipresence. They fought against my fear. With Parker's friends it was different because they'd accepted my fear and me as a packaged deal which they didn't try to alter. I was Frigid Flora: a bit weird, but completely resolute on the subject of being unable to touch. They didn't know why, perhaps they thought I'd just decided one day and stuck to it, but I just was. It was like an unusual characteristic they'd become accustomed to over the months. Parker, like Skylar, probably had sneaking suspicions himself (especially after my nightmare he'd had the unfortunate pleasure of witnessing) but I don't think he'd have immediately jumped to this conclusion fully believing it to be the reason. At least not quite so soon.