Tyler slowed his steps as he neared the counselor’s office, the soft whir of the turbolift already behind him. He tugged gently at the cuff of his sleeve, a small fidget for nerves he’d never admit to. Physical exams were one thing — straightforward, measurable. Talking, though… that was different.

He’d come to terms with his condition, at least on the surface. But dragging it out into the open, laying it bare in front of someone else, never sat comfortably with him.

Pausing outside the counselor’s door, he took in a breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. His finger brushed the chime, and a muted tone rang out in the quiet corridor.

For a moment, he stood there, arms folded loosely across his chest, eyes fixed on the floor. When the door opened, he’d have to face it — and that thought alone made his heart beat just a touch faster.

-Tyler Michael Wells, Science