Jordan

Jordan wasn’t the type of person you’d notice for his physique or face. Nothing extraordinary about his overall looks at all, yet the way he walks in halls and speaks to us are distinct. He doesn’t light up a room with his smile like a typical-boy-next-door but exudes this kind of warmth–ranging from amusement to pure irritation.

“Is he gay?” I asked my friends.

“I don’t know,” answered one of them. “Maybe.”

“He is gay. Couldn’t be gayer than that,” said another. What does that even mean?

On bright days, Jordan would sashay into the room, place his stuff on his chair and approach anyone nearby, quipping funny and silly remarks. To some, his presence could sometimes equate to laughter. In contrast, when days are full of unwanted surprises, he’d come in with an empty look. Just like today.

“I haven’t studied a thing,” he said, frantically scanning a book.

I tried to calm him down a bit. “It’s okay. Did you at least read?” I was worried for myself too, but not in a state he was in.

“Well, I’m reading now.”

As most of us talked about mundane things, Jordan was in his chair concentrating and shifting from one material to another. The rest of us should be prepping like him, actually, but we were too drained to even lift a single page. We’ve all been there: cramming to the very last minute.

“I’m dead meat,” Jordan said as soon as our professor walked in, “but whatever.”

The questions were just as difficult as we expected. There were easy ones too, if your nerve didn’t get the better of you. Jordan was hunched on his paper the whole time. At the end of the period, he got a better score than most of us in the class.

We piled out the of the room feeling disappointed. “It was so damn hard,” Jordan commented.

“Says the person who got a better score,” one of our friends retorted bitterly.

“I guessed on everything. Honestly.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Let’s just take a selfie,” Jordan said warmly,pulling his phone out of his pocket and prepping himself for a pose. Yet another hashtag in our timeline.

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