Don't Touch Me, Hold My Hand

4

your #1 love language is Physical Touch

The words stared back at me from the phone screen. 

I stared back at them, reading them once, blinking, reading them twice, blinking more, reading them a third time and finally closing my eyes completely. 

My love language was physical touch? I'd tested....for physical touch? 

Did that mean I'd failed? I'd thought Acts of Service was the only valid one, and I've spent my entire life trying to help others...

I didn't even have any experience with physical touch, it couldn't be my love language! It had to be a mistake. I'd answered a question wrong, I'd skipped one, something. 

Taking a deep breath, I reloaded the page and clicked "start quiz."

This time I tried to triple think through every answer, and while I still answered honestly, I figured the acts of service aspects would shine through.

your #1 love language is Physical Touch

Well frik. 

What was I supposed to do about that? I didn't even know where to begin. 

Frustrated, I looked up from my desk and noticed I was one of the only ones still in the classroom. Max and and the girl I don't know very well whose language was gifts back in eighth grade were the only students at their desks. I looked over to Dr. Lakyns for instruction, but she was heavily engrossed in her book, a pencil swirling a strand of hair and her nose inches from the pages. 

Seeing the computer at her desk reminded me I was supposed to be emailing her my results. I wondered what she wanted them for, but assuming I'd find out eventually, I took a screenshot and sent it to her. 

Reading the words Physical Touch made me grimace. 

Hopefully this was one of those classes where the teacher hands out a different personality test every day or some sort of get-to-know-yourself questionnaire and we just work at our own pace and take it all with a grain of salt. In fact, now that I thought about it, I was sure that was exactly the kind of class this was. 

Breathing easier now that I didn't have to go through an existential crisis, I packed up my things and stood to leave. 

I'd just turned to head out the door when Liam walked in. He didn't address anyone, just marched straight up to Max's desk and lightly tapped on his shoulder. 

"Max, you have practice."

Max's head shot up from his desk and he blinked, his eyes bloodshot, hair plastered to his forehead, and marks from his sweatshirt sleeves bright red on his cheeks. 

"Damn. Sorry Liam." he muttered, but Liam just shrugged and nodded and picked up his backpack for him. 

"You have time man, you're good." Liam checked his phone and handed Max his backpack. Looking up suddenly, Liam's eyes found mine and his eyebrows raised. 

"Take a picture, it'll last longer, Hops." He said with a smirk. 

I felt my face go red as I realized I'd been caught staring. I hadn't even noticed as my feet slowed to a stop and my eyes shamelessly followed Liam's interaction with Max. 

"I-" I blinked before shaking my head. "You know that's not- I wasn't-" I huffed, and Liam remained as he was, his hands holding his backpack straps and the amusement in his eyes never leaving. 

"You weren't..." He drew out the word, mocking my embarrassment. 

"Doing anything. I wasn't doing anything. Because I was leaving." I took a step towards the door. "See? Leaving. Have a good day." Turning from Liam and Max to face Dr. Lakyns, I told her I hoped she had a good day as well and then managed to make it out of the classroom and into my car with relatively less social awkwardness.