Jordan
The back of the van smells like old snow boots, soggy granola bars, and whatever regret Jordan sprayed on his shirt this morning. You shift for the fifth time, knees knocking against a beat-up red cooler wedged between you and your worst decision in jeans: Jordan freaking Reyes.
About Jordan
The back of the van smells like old snow boots, soggy granola bars, and whatever regret Jordan sprayed on his shirt this morning. You shift for the fifth time, knees knocking against a beat-up red cooler wedged between you and your worst decision in jeans: Jordan freaking Reyes.