...

Please don't look at me. Please, please don't look at me.

I kept my head low as I hurried through the crowd of chattering teenagers. They were packed farcically tight in the small, outdated cafeteria, bodies mingling and straying in every which way. It was messy, it was unorganized, and it was actually pretty gross, but it was perfect cover. Given my small frame, I could easily slip between people and make my through a throng of people without being seen. To do so required me to involuntarily brush up against a lot of the individuals in the crowd, but it was worth it. I could disappear in a moment's notice and no one would even know I had disappeared.

Which is exactly why I was twisting and turning through the crowd at such a quick pace. I had to get away, and quickly. I could feel a burning in my chest, a tingle in my fingertips and an ache in my neck. I knew what it all equated to. I had minutes, maybe seconds to get somewhere safe before it happened. It was something I grown used to, but something I had only learned to predict a month ago. In addition, sometimes the symptoms were hard to notice, or only happened seconds before all chaos broke loose.

This particular instance, it seemed, was more favorable. I had given enough time to excuse myself from the table and run out of the cafeteria, and I was on my way to the restroom, praying that it would be empty. I wasn't sure I had time to find an empty classroom. I wasn't about to push my luck unless I absolutely had to.

I tried to keep from looking distressed, but I found it becoming harder and harder to keep calm. My breath was hitching and my stomach was dropping with a cruel, unpredictable. I practically barreled into the bathroom door, not even minding the noise or the possible germs on the polished wood. I stumbled inside the tiled room, locking myself in the first available cubicle. I slid against the wall and clutched at my hat, pulling it over my eyes. I hadn't even checked to see if the place was empty- it was too late.

Tears rolled down my cheek as I gasped, my whole body trembling. I could hear a whoosh in my ears, like the sound of my blood pumping furiously through my veins. I tried not imagine the blood, because it would only make it worse. I curled in on myself, putting my forhead onto my knees and my hands on my head, like I was protecting myself from an earthquake. My head was spinning, and the earth did seem to shake, but I knew better than to believe it was actually an tectonic plate disturbance. No, this was a disturbance of the mind. I was shaking with horror though there was no threat, I was breathing heavily though I hadn't run very far, I was crying though there was nothing to be upset about.

I was having a full on panic attack.

I moved my arms to cross over my stomach, my hands clenching desperately at my shirt sleeves, most definitely wrinkling the fabric. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep from whimpering as my entire chest filled with horrible dread that I could not explain. I tried to think of logical things- algorithms, the theory of evolution, botany, anything, but even small additions problems were beyond me. My brain was muddled, stuck on fight-or-flight mode, unable to analyze anything.

Suddenly, I felt a pounding against my back, and a faint noise. It had to be very loud for me to hear it in this state- and I knew it. It only served to scare me further, forcing me to shove my head between my knees and wrap my arms around myself, whimpering pitifully.

No, no, no, no, leave me alone please please no no leave go away please no I don't I can't I'm not I can't I CAN'T I CAN'T-

"D! Can you hear me? Dee!"

The voice persisted, it's familiar timber causing me to jump. I knew the voice...but form where? My heart was beating so loud, my face covered in sweat and tears, but I fought the panic that clouded my memory.

"Hey! Dee!"

Kevin?

The memories hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered the tall, athletic boy that was Kevin Barr. I remembered his temper, his insults, his tired looks, his teasing, his calm face, his laughter, his famous red cap...

I could feel my body start to relax, knowing it would only be a matter of time before I was back to normal. After that, however...

"C'mon, man! Say something!"

I raised my head, blinking. "I-I...Kevin?" Edd heard a relieved sigh.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's Kevin. Are you okay?"

I didn't answer. While I was emotionally exhausted now, soon I would be horrified that Kevin had found me like this.

"I'm fine," I breathed, trying to sound as sure as I could. It didn't work well, as my voice cracked.

"No you're not. Let me in."

Uh oh. The last thing I needed was for someone to actually see me like this, with tears running down my face.

"No."

Another sigh.

"D...Edd...please. I gotta know if you're okay. You're freakin' me out."

I chose not to reply, hoping he would take the hint and leave me in peace.

"If you don't open this door I'll go find a teacher to make you. Better yet, I'll just bust down the thing myself," he threatened.

He wasn't getting the hint. I sloppily pulled myself off the ground, my head spinning with the effort. I unlocked the door and let it swing open, keeping my eyes on the floor. I heard Kevin give a slight gasp, muttering a curse word under his breath.

"What happened?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nothing," I said as non-nonchalantly as I could muster. He scoffed, taking my face in his hands and lifting my chin to make me look at him.

"Bull-crap," he claimed. I shrugged.

"Fine. Be that way," he said. He let go of my face long enough to wrap his arms around my waist and hoisting me up over his shoulder. I know normally I would have protested, but I was still in the process of calming down, so my body went limp in his arms. He carried me through the empty hallways and out one of the side doors, heading straight to the football field. It was a grey afternoon, and it smelled wet, but there was no sign of rain just yet. I bounced on Kevin's shoulder and realized he was carrying me up the bleachers. Part of me wondered if I was difficult to carry. Most of me didn't care. He would put me down if he needed.

When we reached the top of the bleachers, Kevin slid my body off of his and sat me down on the cool bench and then sat beside me, leaning forward and to the side to face me properly.

"So spill."

I could only shrug. What was I supposed to say? My body was really starting to relax now, my eyes only half open and my posture less than exemplary. Instead of coming up with an explanation or avoiding the question like I normally would, I just stared at Kevin. I noticed his concerned and frustrated expression, which struck something inside of me that warned me to be cautious around him. Years of torment and borderline bullying argued the validity of my instinct to keep far far away from Kevin Barr. In my fatigue drunken state, however, I ignored these subtle reminders and instead chose to tell the truth.

"I have a disorder. I get panic attacks," I stated casually, looking into Kevin's dark eyes. They swam with confusion and something else...worry?

Strange.

The ginger ran a hand through his hair, looking at me skeptically. "So you just...freak out? Why?"

I shrugged. "There are a few theories. I cannot control them, and only recently could I feel the oncoming presence of one."

"Is that why you practically sprinted out of the lunch room?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "You followed me?"

Kevin's face flushed. "N-no, I mean, yeah, I guess. I just- I saw you running out like someone was chasing you and I wanted to know what was going on. You ran in the bathroom and just started freaking out, and I thought you were like, dying, or something. I tried to talk to you, but you didn't freaking respond so I only got more freaked out. I was seriously yelling at you for like, five minutes."

I blinked. That long? I yawned. I knew what was happening. A panic attack took everything out of me, emotionally and physically, and afterwards, I usually blacked out or fell asleep for a couple hours until my body recovered. Even now, I fought to keep my eyes open. I shivered, my sleepiness making me cold.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I'm so...tired." I ground out, wrapping my arms around myself. I tried to stay awake, to keep talking with Kevin, but my body was fighting harder. I saw surprised when something fell on my head, before strong hands maneuvered the soft thing on my body properly, pulling my hands through sleeves much too big, popping my head through the top. I was in Kevin's baseball hoodie, and I smiled. It was incredibly soft, warm and it smelled of the jock's cologne. I attempted to thank the redhead for the jacket, but his dead voice stopped me.

"Here. Just don't tell anyone," he said softly, pulling my head down onto his lap. I responded, pulling my feet up onto the bench, pulling my knees up to my stomach, and my fists up to my chest. I felt his warm hands touch me, one landing on my shoulder and the other on my head, pulling the black hair that had fallen out of my beanie behind my ear. It was comforting. I felt safe there, overwhelmed with the need to trust the boy whose lap I was currently using as a pillow. There was no thought as to where I needed to be, what I was doing, or whether or not the bench beneath me was sanitary.

There was nothing but the sound of our breathing, calm and deep.

"Thank you," I breathed, my voice almost non-existent.

Then I fell fast asleep.

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Writing is therapeutic.

I hope you enjoyed my little one-shot. If there are any one-shots, drabbles or prompts you want me to try out, leave it an a review. Thanks for reading!