Gregory with the Green Shirt

TW: minor cussing

I feel their eyes on my green shirt and worn-out black pants.

And my shaggy, shaggy hair.

I lower my gaze, because what I don’t see won’t bother me, shouldn’t bother me. So I keep walking in the same circle near the exam hall. Not nearly enough. Not nearly enough.

I look at my phone. 16:43. My heart starts beating fast, or… faster than it has for the past hour. Because I’m always in fight-or-flight mode on days like this. Which is every day, in November.

I always come early to squeeze in my pacing session.

I smell an odour of musky cedar-wood, and look up to see a blond guy. Muscular, clean-shaved. Biceps for days. He looks gorgeous.

I look down at my pants. My hideous pants. I feel a familiar tightness in my chest. I lower my shirt to hide the ripped part at the top.

One more hour and I’ll be looking gorgeous. This is nothing. The grade will stay with me.

I scratch the back of my head. Hard. My lips start trembling. I pace around.

I think back to my dad yelling at me for wearing this before leaving the house. I scoff. He doesn’t get it. No one gets me but this shirt. I can’t look good when I take this test. I’ll be distracted.

I toy with my hair. I’m allowed to do this. I did it last time and did great. I accidentally pluck a hair. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

I look up at... some guy from my class. I nod, fast.

If I talk to him I won’t do well. Talking to people makes them better than you. You have to ignore them, in times like these.

I look at my phone. 16:59. It’s time. I pace around the circle three more times. I take a deep breath and walk towards the exam hall, before noticing my cousin from afar. No. No. The last time I did well, he wasn’t here. He’s bad luck. He’s bad luck.

I rush towards the exam hall before he can reach me, only to find a girl seated in my usual place. My heart drops. This wasn’t supposed to happen. What am I going to do?

My breathing gets shallow and dysregulated. I walk towards her.

“Hey, can you please change seats? I’m… used to sitting here.”

She looks up at me, eyes my pants. Doesn’t say anything. The familiar gloom starts to creep in. Not now.

I look around the room. The blurry, blurry room. Patricia from my class looks gorgeous. She looks amazing, and she’s wearing amazing clothes, and… she’s looking me up and down. She’s not going to do well. This is what it takes. They know nothing of my magic.

I notice an empty chair at the very front of the hall, separated from all. Maybe it’s one of those times. This new chair will bring me luck.

I sit down.

Not nearly enough. Not nearly enough.

I don’t let myself relax. I can’t. Relaxing makes me slack off. I can’t slack off-no way on earth.

-

I finish early. This is crazy. I’m free. I turn in my paper and leave the hall. The university is empty at this time of the day, but I find the blond guy from earlier, talking to some girl. She looks at me, and he turns and looks too. They smile.

My heart goes back to beating fast, and I stumble towards the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I look at myself in the mirror. My lips start trembling.

I fumble for my phone and call my mom.

She picks up on the third ring.

“Gregory? How did you do?”

“Mom. I am not feeling good.”

“Did you not do well?”

“I did great. Can Alex come with my jeans and grey sweater?”

She doesn’t answer. I know what she’s thinking. I hang up.

It’s fine. It’s passed. I’ll be looking gorgeous in no time. No time at all.

-

The week that follows is just me alternating between pacing my mom’s room in a triangle so that my grade wouldn’t jump to an 80 and lying frozen on my bed, because if I don’t do anything, the universe wouldn’t have anything to hold against me.

-

91. I let out a breath. Finally. I knew it. I jump around the room in any shape I want. I did it. I did it. But then I look at the… 93 next to Patricia’s ID number. The gloom creeps in.

She didn’t have to look bad to get this. She looked gorgeous.

I stay frozen in place. My mom calls out my name.

“Gregory, did the grades come out?”

I walk towards the living room.

“Yes. 91!”

“Thank you, God. Is that the highest?”

“Yes. Highest.”

She smiles when I say it. It’s for a flicker of a second, but she does, before going back to whatever she was reading on her phone.

I look at Alex on his PlayStation, and my cat on the couch. I go back to my mom’s room and close the door behind me. I lie on her bed.

The gloom is back. My fucking heart is beating fast again. I fumble for my phone. Anything. I see guys. Sexy guys. Pretty guys. Travelling, living life.

I see my cousin’s story, at some fucking concert.

He got less. He got fucking less.

But you got more. Then what? Are you happy now?

I sit up and look in the mirror. I look at my face. At my hair. It’s so long now. Long and unkempt and so very ugly. I haven’t cut it ever since I got a 99 in sophomore year. It’s been through so much with me. It’s been through so much with me.

My phone lights up and starts buzzing. My friend Alexandra’s name pops up on the screen. I pick it up.

“Hey baby, we’re going to Celio’s in an hour. Wanna come?”

She blabbers about the whereabouts, but I continue staring at myself. I hang up.

I hear my mom call my name again.

“Gregory. Your aunt is waiting in front of the building. She needs you to give this file to her.”

“I look awful, Mom,” I yell.

I open the door and find her standing. She looks at my hair and makes a disappointed face, then goes and tells Alex to do it.

I don’t know what it is about this moment, but something switches in me. I go to my sister’s room and knock on the door. I find her lying on her bed. My heart trembles.

“Can you cut my hair?”

-

The week that follows, before leaving for yet another exam, I look at the green shirt in my closet and pick it up. Just as I’m about to go on with my usual ritual, my cat enters the room. I look down at her. A moment passes. Two. I take a deep breath.

I put the shirt back.

I sit and hug my cat. For a long, long time.

I can skip the pacing this one time.