Exposure Therapy

"My name is Spike Drake, and...I'm scared of girls. Not like a 'girls and cooties' way, no...they...they terrify me. When one gets close, I can't stop shaking, it gets hard to breath...I've even broken out in rashes a few times from being touched...It takes everything I got just to not run off like a spooked deer."

"Hmm, and you don't know why this is happening?" The therapist, the third one in as many months asked, raising an eye.

"No." Spike replied, sorely tempted to be sarcastic. Seriously, if he knew the 'why', then he wouldn't be there to start with. And that's the same question the last two asked!

"Yes, and how long has this been happening?"

Picking up the Rubik's Cube that lay on the coffee table, Spike started fiddling with it as he spoke, "Long as I've known girls exist. First time I saw one after figuring out what girls were was when I started 1st Grade. My parents had just dropped me off at school and I was giving the place a look around when I spotted her. She saw me, and for some reason, she looked really happy and started making her way towards me."

"Interesting." The sound of a pen writing filled the air, "Do you remember her name?'

He just looked at him, "Only thing I really recall about her was cyan hair with a little horn nub poking out, and overalls with a harp picture on it. Everything else was one thing: fear. Feeling scared just seeing another kid is NOT normal, that much I know. The closer she got, the worse that fear got. Don't remember how much distance she covered before I whimpered and ran, looking to put as much distance between us as I could. Though that just seemed to put me in the path of others..."

The man frowned as he cut him off, "Maybe she simply wanted to say hello. Seems a bit much to run..."

"Didn't know and didn't care." Spike cut him off in return, along with a rather insulted look "When you're six years old, running away's pretty normal when you're terrified, don't you think?"

"Oh, um, yes. Continue."

"Well, like I said, running from her managed to put me in the patch of others, a few that seemed to act pretty similar to how she did. After that..." He sighed and rubbed his head, "It's pretty much a blur of running, panic, then winding up a ball of nerves one of the teachers had to carry to class."

The pen-on-paper sound resumed, "And you believed you had gained a...stalker, was it?"

"'Believed' nothing!" Came his retort, "Granted, it was kinda slow, starting off with the occasional letter or two in my locker, with some less than stellar love poems on them. Then the feeling started...you ever been on a crowded sidewalk and could swear there was someone looking right at you from somewhere?"

"I...think a fair number of people have possibly experienced that." The therapist turned to a fresh sheet on his notepad.

"Well, mixing that with already trying not to panic for a few hours, five days a week, and it's not pleasant. Especially when she finally made herself known." Spike let out a shuddering sigh. Trixie Lulamoon...or as he'd soon come to know her, 'the girl that wouldn't go away'. Her calling him 'darling' or her 'beloved' more often than his actual name did NOT help matters.

"It appears she seemed somewhat...enamored with you. At such a young age, too."

"Felt more like terror made flesh... I'm just glad she hadn't learned to really use that horn of hers or..." He started to pale before shaking his head violently. "Let's just leave it at that!" After taking a moment to compose himself, he continued, "Though, in hindsight, if I hadn't ran from her when I could, I probably wouldn't have met Twilight."

"Twilight? That sounds..."

"Like a girl's name? 'Cause it is. Twilight Sparkle, the only girl I wasn't scared of. Had ran into the school library to hide from Trixie and found her trying to put a bunch of books back on the shelves." Spike chuckled, "Heh, it's wierd, but by then it'd been almost a year of being scared and trying to hide from girls...or at least keep what felt like a safe distance away. By then it was pretty much impossible to register 'girl' or 'fear' without the other. I guess that's why when I first saw her, for some reason she didn't register as being scary, so she never showed on the radar as a girl."

"She didn't 'register'?" The therapist glared at his notes and quickly scribbled something out.

"Yeah. I...I can't really explain it...but I just felt, well, safe around her. All that fear just kinda drifted into the background when she was around. I didn't feel the urge to run from her, I decided I might as well give her a hand. We started started talking and things just flowed from there. Hell, it was midway through the 3rd grade before I finally noticed she was a 'she'. Her parents had invited me to come along to the Admiral Typhoon waterpark during Spring break."

"Ah, and you saw her in her swimsuit."

"Yeah. I'll admit I was surprised when it finally clicked. But, I guess after hanging out with her for so long, 'scary' still didn't show up."

"Yes..." The therapist set his notepad down, "I believe I know what the issue is now."

"Really?" Spike looked up, surprised that the man seemed to have figured it out so fast.

"Indeed. Tell me, Mr. Drake, how long have you felt this lack of attention?"

Silence.

Spike blinked. Then he blinked again, "Say what?"

Meanwhile, Nicole and Terrence Drake, Spike's parents, were in the waiting room.

"I hope this one can help." Nicole sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on her chair, "Three therapists are two too many..."

"I'm sure he will, Nickie." Terrence looked up from the magazine he was reading, "I mean, he was recommended by three of your co-workers, especially the one who had that bee phobia."

"Yeah, but she had that because she's allergic to them. Granted, she doesn't hyperventilate near them anymore, but still."

Terrence set a hand on his wife's knee, "Spike'll be fine..."

BANG!

Their chat was abruptly cut off as the office door was violently kicked open, enough to break one of its hinges, followed by a rather miffed Spiked, "You can take those diplomas and stuff em where the sun don't shine, you quack!" He hollered back into the room.

"But I've been wrong before." Terrence finished as the pair got up.

"Sweetie, what happened!?" Nicole asked hurriedly, "Don't tell me..."

"Three for three, Mom." Spike muttered, "According to that guy, it's obviously all one big tall tale I made up as a cry for attention!"

"What!?" Terrence blurted out, "That's the dumbest...w-where'd he get that??"

"Oh, because I'm apparently 'too young' to be gynophobic, and even if i was, it's impossible to have one girl be an exception." The sarcasm was almost dripping off his voice as he spoke, "Dunno what ticks me off more, the fact he made that claim, or the self-satisfied way he said it, like he was being really clever..." Before he could continue, he was quickly wrapped up in his mother's arms.

"I'm sorry, Spike." Terrence said, tossing the magazine aside, "I was sure this one would be a bit more open-minded about it." A thoughtful look crossed his face before he reached into his pocket, "Here, why don't you go grab something from that vending machine downstairs?" He handed Spike a fiver, "Your mother and I'll meet you at the car in a few minutes."

Once their son was out of sight and earshot, Nicole glared at the still open office, where the now indignant therapist stood.

"Mrs, Drake, your son..."

"Put a sock in it, you quack!" She snapped, turning back to her husband, "Terrence, what are we going to do? It's been one bust after another."

Instead of an answer, Terrence just looked back at the magazine he had been looking at.

"Terrence?" She was already frustrated from the lack of professional help; her husband's silence wasn't helping, "Terrence! Say something!"

"Nicole, you still have Lu's phone number?"

"Lu? Well, yeah, you know I call her and her sister when I can on the weekends. Why?" She put a hand on her hip at the look he was going her. "And why are you grinning like that??"

The look and grin were best described as 'a mad genius planning'.

Three Weeks Later

"Again, why are we doing this?" Spike asked from the back of the car. Ever since that flop of a psychiatrist, both his mom and dad had been secretive about something. Almost to an eerie degree. Plus, they seemed a lot more upbeat. Any questions were met with either assurances that he'd find out or simply being told it was a surprise.

The question now was, 'How the hell is being enrolled in a boarding school a 'surprise'!?' Especially one that's a four hour drive from home?"

"We told you, Spike." Terrence chirped, his tone way more jovial than normal, "This place is guaranteed to help you get rid of your gynophobia, or my name isn't Terrence Seymore Drake!"

"If it helps..." Spike admitted, "But still...a boarding school??"

"Just relax, sweetie." Nicole piped in, sounding almost as cheerful as Terrence "We've talked to the principals and they've given their word to help you. They were even offended on your behalf about that so-called doctor accusing you of making it up."

Spike sighed. Part of him wanted to protest, but neither of them had been this high-spirited since he first learned about his phobia. And the principals did seem like they were taking it seriously, according to his mom. "All right, if this place really can cure me, let's go."

"That's the spirit!" Terrence almost floored it.

Another hour passed before they finally pulled up in front of the school. From what Spike could see, it remind him of his old school of Cloudsdale High, except this place was three stories high and covered with blue colored brickwork.

"All right, son." Terrence said, helping Spike get his bags out of the trunk, "Good luck. I know everything'll turn out fine"

"I hope so, Dad."

"Be good, honey." Nicole kissed him on the cheek, "Your phone is charged, right?"

"Yeah, and the spare battery." He replied.

"Ok, we'll call you as soon as we get home. Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"I will, Mom. Don't worry." He watched the pair get back into the car and waved as they began the long trek back home. "Guess I better go say hi." Grabbing up his stuff, he headed towards the two glass doors. As he turned around to do so, however, the school's sign caught his eye.

Welcome to Canterlot Girl's Academy

Spike's heart stopped...

Canterlot Girl's Academy...

His eyes shrank to pinpoints at the words

Girl's Academy...

He began to pale rapidly.

Girl's...

The bags dropped from his trembling grip.

GIRLS. ACADEMY.

Three seconds later, everyone in hearing range jumped at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream of terror coming from the main entrance.