17: the new normal?

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After a short scrimmage and workout that first Friday afternoon back, Jordan walked back to his dorm with Marcus and a few of the other guys on the team. They were all talking about a 'welcome back' party they were going to at one of the frat houses later that night, but Jordan couldn't care less about some rager.

The only thing that had been on his mind for that entire week had been Dahlia. Seeing her everyday and knowing she wanted nothing to do with him had Jordan feeling like he was in his own personal Hell, and he knew it was his fault.

"Dude, you look like shit."

Marcus finally commented on Jordan's appearance once the two had broken off from the rest of the group, heading towards their room.

"I feel like it, too. Doll— she won't talk to me-- like at all. I fucking screwed up everything."

Once they were in their room, Jordan chucked his gym bag in his closet before he slid the door shut and slumped his shoulders in absolute defeat.

"Is it that bad? She really won't talk to you?"

Marcus' question caused Jordan to hang his head as he sighed.

"Before this... the longest we went without speaking was almost an entire day."

"That's it?"

"I don't even remember the stupid thing I said that hurt her feelings back then, but I could barely go like

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"I don't even remember the stupid thing I said that hurt her feelings back then, but I could barely go like... five hours without her. This has been fucking brutal, dude."

As Jordan raked his fingers through his hair, he groaned, feeling a migraine coming on. It had been the same recurring headache he'd felt all week, and Jordan knew exactly why it felt like his head was in a vice grip.

Dahlia.

"Ugh, I'm such a fucking idiot!"

He threw a punch at the closet door, not meaning to dent it, but the second he felt a sharp pain shoot through his hand, he cursed under his breath.

He threw a punch at the closet door, not meaning to dent it, but the second he felt a sharp pain shoot through his hand, he cursed under his breath

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