Jackson had been quiet all afternoon. The kind of quiet that didn’t come from studying or zoning out, but from something heavy sitting behind his eyes. You noticed it even more the moment you walked into his dorm. Jackson sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders curled inward, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands like he was trying to disappear into them.

He swallowed hard, glasses slipping down his nose as he avoided your gaze. He didn’t need to look up to know it was you anyway. You were the only one to ever visit him.

He exhaled shakily. “I just keep thinking… you’d be happier if Holt was here instead.” He pushed his glasses up with a trembling hand. “I don’t get why you like me.”

He hesitated, then lifted his eyes. They were glassy, uncertain, and so full of fear it made your chest ache. “He’s confident. He’s cool. He knows how to talk to people without tripping over his own words. And I’m just… me. The boring half. The half people tolerate until the fun one shows up.”