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Jordan moved through the hallway like she always did. Her eyes were down, she stayed close to the lockers, and avoided the busy crowds. Everyone else walked all around her, never noticing her or trying to spark up a conversation.
Though it sounded bad, she preferred it that way.
Being unseen meant she could exist without the worry of embarrassment. She didn't need to talk to anyone or fake a personality. She could stay quiet, like she wanted.
That was until last week when she walked directly into an open locker door.
The metal door slammed into her shoulder and shut tightly from the impact. A loud sound resulted from it and caused looks from other students.
Jordan hissed and grabbed her shoulder, slowly rubbing it to alleviate the pain. “Shit,” she whispered to herself.
She quickly checked the floor around herself, looking to see if she had dropped anything. She didn't find anything but another pair of shoes standing in front of her.
She glanced up to see an unfamiliar face looking right back at her. They seemed just as confused as she was.
Jordan swallowed. “I'm so sorry…”
There was a split second where they only stared back, not responding as fast as Joddan wanted them to. But then they smiled back.
“Nah, it's cool man,” they tried stepping away, but were held back.
They blinked in confusion as they tried moving away once again, but were still not able to.
They nervously chuckled. “Uh… do you think you could help me get unstuck?”
Jordan's brain stalled for a second.
Stuck? They're stuck in… the locker.
She nodded quickly as she unfroze. “Oh! Yeah, I can.”
She stepped closer, hands gripping the cold metal edge of the door. She could feel them watching her.
She tugged the door, but nothing happened.
“It's locked,” she said, suddenly aware how stupid it sounded.
They grounded quietly. “Man, this is so fucking annoying. Could you unlock it?”
Jordan lightly nodded. “What’s your code?”
“Sixteen, two, thirty-nine,” they answered.
She reached for the lock and she turned the dial carefully, trying very hard to ignore how close they were. She could hear their breathing just as much as she could hear her own.
After she turned to the last number, the lock clicked open. She pulled it off and opened the door, freeing the person. They stumbled a little bit as the door let go of them.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they grinned at Jordan as if she had done something more heroic than simply unlocking a locker.
Jordan awkwardly smiled back. “You’re welcome.”
The person nodded and walked as if what had happened was nothing; As if it was a normal interaction.
Jordan stood there longer, just holding her shoulder and staring off. She felt warm, but not in an embarrassed way. It was something she had never felt before.
While Jordan was still staring off into the distance like she was searching for something, a familiar hand grabbed her shoulder as the bell rang.
“What are you doing just standing there?” the girl asked.
Jordan turned to face her. “Oh, hey Kenyatta.”
Kenyatta dropped her hand from Jordan’s shoulder. “You would already be in class, not late like me.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jordan muttered as she began to walk towards class.
Kenyatta followed. “Are you alright? Did something happen? Did someone bully you? I swear to god I'll beat—”
“You're jumping to conclusions,” Jordan cut in. “It was just a little accident.”
“Then why are you still blushing?”
Jordan stopped in her tracks. They were standing right outside the door of their classroom, already late.
Kenyatta frowned. “Jordan?”
Jordan exhaled. “Do you know what it feels like to have a crush?”
Kenyatta’s eyes widened. “That’s what this is all about? You like someone?”
“Keep your voice down!” Jordan aggressively whispered. “Let's go to the bathroom.”
She grabbed Kenyatta’s wrist and dragged her to the nearest bathroom. The bathroom was empty and silent compared to the hallways. Once they were in, they made sure to lock the door.
Jordan walked to the back of the bathroom and stared down at the tiles like they had something on them.
Kenyatta sighed. “You care to explain?”
“No,” Jordan told. “Just tell me how it feels to like someone.”
“Okay…” Kenyatta leaned on the sink. “But like what exactly?”
“Everything.”
“Well, you can't stare at them long enough without blushing,” Kenyatta said. “Or even stand near them without feeling weird.”
“And what else?” Jordan had already started biting her nails.
“You find them attractive maybe? Dude, I don't know and you're not really being fair here,” Kenyatta crossed her arms. “Are you gonna tell me at least who?”
“That's the thing,” Jordan stopped. “I don't know their name.”
“You have a crush on someone that you don't even know?” Kenyatta stared in confusion.
Jordan nodded.
“Damn, okay. Maybe describe what they look like?” Kenyatta suggested.
“They have these short purple dreads, they were also short in size,” Jordan explained. “They had this white tank top and jeans.”
“Did they have a necklace with a planet on it?” Kenyatta asked.
Jordan paused. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Then it was definitely Symeria,” Kenyatta said.
“Symeria…” Jordan repeated. “I never heard their name before.”
“Yeah, they mostly hang out with Jennifer,” Kenyatta added and then smirked. “So, you like Symeria?”
Jordan slid down the wall until she was sitting on the tile floor. “I think so… I haven’t spoken to them ever though! It was just a small interaction.”
“Yeah, well that’s how crushes work sometimes,” Kenyatta almost giggled. “How did it even occur?”
“I bumped into their locker because I forgot to wear my glasses,” Jordan explained.
This time, Kenyatta laughed. “That's so stupid.”
“I know,” Jordan stared at the opposite wall. “What should I do?”
“Maybe ask them out? I don't know, I’m not really good at this stuff,” Kenyatta replied. “Maybe try speaking to them.”
Jordan kept quiet instead of responding. She never thought of having to be stuck in something like this.
There's no way I could ask them out.
Kenyatta took the silence as an answer. She walked to the door and unlocked it.
“I’ll tell the teacher you were not feeling well,” she informed. “It’s up to you if you wanna come to class or not.”
And with that, Kenyatta left Jordan alone in that bathroom, alone with her thoughts.
I can't ask them out, that would be weird. At least face-to-face.
She started to picture Symeria in her mind. The way their voice sounded and how they looked.
I don't see this crush going away either…
She steadily got up from the floor and headed towards the door. She slowly walked back to her class, passing all the lockers.
That’s when the thought appeared.
I could write something to them and slip it into their locker. I would never have to speak a word to them.
It was the perfect plan— or that’s what she thought until it happened.
A week had only passed when Jordan finally committed to the plan.
Most of the week she spent thinking of what to say. She researched love letters and what people would write in them. She also bugged Kenyatta about the topic, asking her thousands of questions.
“Just write how you feel,” is what Kenyatta told her.
She wrote about five different drafts and chose none for the final. She hated all of them; she felt they didn't convey her feelings well enough.
When she wrote her final letter, she did it neatly. She slowly pressed the pencil’s tip onto the paper to give the words a nice look. She thought that if she couldn't even say the words out loud, the least she could do was write them legibly.
After a long stressful week, she had her finished letter. It didn't feel good; the letter could have been better, she felt, but at least it was done.
She decided to leave lunch early. She walked through the empty hallways; only her footsteps echoed.
No one was there to look at her, though. And even if there was anyone, they wouldn't bother.
Jordan reached the locker, the one where she had first met Symeria. The locker looked brighter than the other ones next to it.
She paused before reaching towards it.
Should I really be doing this? They don't even know me…..
The bell rang suddenly. Voices began to flood the hallway in the distance.
Jordan panicked and slipped the folded note through the locker vent and quickly stepped away, pretending to look at a poster nearby.
She kept her eyes on the crowd, searching for only one person.
“What the fuck are you saying?” A familiar voice spoke.
Jordan turned her head slightly to spot Symeria and their group of friends coming down the hallway.
“You never thought our elementary gym teacher was hot?” One of their friends asked.
“No,” Symeria had a disgusted look on her face.
Jordan watched as they quickly approached Symeria’s locker. Their friends leaned against the lockers next to Symeria’s, waiting for her it seemed.
Symeria opened their locker, allowing the letter to flutter to the floor. They looked towards the ground, and confusion was the only thing seen on their face.
One of their friends noticed. “What’s that?”
Symere picked it up. “I don't know.” They unfolded the paper.
Jordan nervously watched as she could see Symeria’s eyes move across the page. They read each line, the lines Jordan had rewritten numerous times.
“What does it say?” Someone asked.
“I think it's a love confession?” Symeria suggested, tilting the paper.
“From who?”
Symeria looked at the bottom of the page. “There’s no name.”
Their expression didn't change.
One of their friends laughed lightly. “Probably some creep. Like that dude who tried talking to you last month.”
“Maybe…” Symeria thought.
Their voice didn't change, they didn't seem like it was a big deal. It was as if the note didn't matter.
Their friend took the letter from their hands, crumpled it without reading it, and dropped it to the floor like it was trash already.
“Come on,” they said, tugging Symeria along.
Symeria couldn't react, they were already pushed away and started to walk away with their friends.
Jordan watched the group as they disappeared into the hallway. There was noise all around her, but none of it reached her. It seemed her own world was silent.
She walked towards the disposed paper. It was crinkled behind repair. She stared at it before picking it up.
They didn't even try to guess who, nor have any idea of someone who could have written it.
They thought it was a creep.
They don't even know me. They never notice me either.
It's my fault though, I chose this.
The painful realization hit her like a bullet. She was slowly dying it seemed, the ideas flooding her brain.
Jordan walked towards a trash can, throwing her letter away.
She didn't feel mad at Symeria or herself. There was no embarrassment; Only stupidity. She felt stupid for ever thinking it could have gone well.
As she walked down the hallway to her next class, people passed by her like always. No one paid attention to her, no one stopped to ask her anything. And of course, no one looked at her.
She was simply a ghost to them, unnoticed. Invisible.
She was used to it, she wanted it to be like that ever since she could remember.
But now? All she ever wanted was attention from someone, a certain someone.
Jordan wished that someone would notice her once, only once. Just enough for someone to know she existed.
Just so she could ask someone out and not be deemed as a ‘creep.’
She wanted Symeria to think about her. She wanted them to think that there was a small possibility that Jordan was the one who wrote the note.
She just wanted Symeria.