Humanities Building 120 was smaller than Jordan expected. Thirty desks arranged in a U-shape around a podium. Windows on one side letting in natural light. The vibe was intimate in a way that made Jordan imdiately suspicious of participation requirents.
He picked a desk near the middle. Not front row eager but not back row hiding either.
Pulled out his laptop. Booted it up.
The screen glowed to life. Jordan opened a fresh docunt. Titled it Soc 1 - Week 2. The cursor blinked.
Fingers covered his eyes from behind.
"Guess who?"
Jordan smiled.
He reached up. Pulled the hands away gently. Looked up.
Chloe stood behind him wearing a cropped white hoodie and high-waisted jeans. Her blue streak was tucked behind her ear. She was grinning.
"Wow," Jordan said. "You take this class?"
"Have since week one." Chloe moved around and dropped into the seat next to him. "But you’ve been skipping."
"I wasn’t skipping. I was strategically absent."
"That’s called skipping."
"Semantics."
Chloe laughed. The sound was bright and easy. She pulled her laptop from her bag and set it on the desk. The surface was covered in stickers. A cartoon cat. A coffee cup. Sothing in Korean characters.
"Well now Wednesdays will be way better," she said. Her fingers opened the laptop and powered it on. "I was getting tired of being the only one who actually takes notes in here."
Jordan’s chest did the warm stupid thing again. The thing that happened whenever she smiled at him like that. Like he was soone worth sitting next to.
"You have another class after this?" he asked.
"Yeah. Stats at two-thirty." Chloe made a face. Her nose scrunched. "Professor Nguyen. He’s nice but the material is brutal."
"This is my last one," Jordan said.
"Lucky." Chloe’s laptop screen glowed. She opened a browser. Started typing sothing. "You get to go ho and nap while I’m learning probability distributions."
"Very," Jordan said.
She leaned closer. Close enough that Jordan caught vanilla and sothing floral. Her knee bumped his under the desk.
"The streaming setup is started," Chloe said quietly. "Kumiko sent so videos."
"When’s your first stream?"
"Maybe Thursday? I’m nervous."
"You sang karaoke in front of six people and made it look easy."
"That was different." Chloe’s cheeks went pink. "That was just...fun. This is work."
"You’ll be great."
"You don’t know that."
"I do."
She looked at him. Sothing soft in her expression. Then she smiled and turned back to her laptop.
Students filtered in. The room filled slowly.
Jordan was typing the date when he heard it.
A laugh he knew too well.
Low. Confident. The kind of laugh that ca easy when you were used to being the funniest person in every room.
Jordan’s spine went rigid.
He turned.
Caron Mitchell walked through the door, Eliza on his arm.
Caron wore a Pacific Crest lacrosse hoodie and joggers. Eliza wore a cream sweater and leggings. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. She was mid-laugh at sothing Caron said.
Then her eyes swept the room.
Landed on Jordan.
Went wide.
"Jordan?" Eliza’s voice carried across the classroom. "Is that...you?"
Caron’s eyes narrowed. Followed Eliza’s gaze.
Locked onto Jordan.
The entire room went quiet.
Jordan felt Chloe go still beside him.
Eliza’s mouth opened. Closed. Her hand tightened on Caron’s arm.
"Holy shit," Eliza breathed. "You look completely different."
Caron said nothing. Just stared at Jordan like he was trying to solve a problem he didn’t have the formula for.
Jordan forced his expression neutral.
"Hey," he said.
One word. Flat. Gave nothing.
Eliza blinked. Like she’d expected more. Like she’d expected Jordan to stamr or look away or apologize for existing in her line of sight.
Jordan did none of those things.
Caron’s jaw tightened.
"Co on," Caron muttered, pulling Eliza toward the back row. "Let’s sit."
They moved past Jordan’s desk. Eliza’s perfu hit him. The sa scent she’d worn on every date. Sothing expensive and floral that used to make Jordan’s brain short-circuit.
Now it just slled like a departnt store.
Eliza glanced back once. Her eyes caught Jordan’s.
Sothing flickered there. Confusion. Maybe regret.
Jordan looked away first.
Chloe’s hand found his under the desk. Squeezed once.
He squeezed back.
"You okay?" Chloe whispered.
"Yeah."
"Liar."
Jordan glanced at her. Chloe was staring at him with an expression that wasn’t quite anger but was definitely in the sa family.
"That’s her?" Chloe asked. Still whispering.
"Yeah."
"The Prada bag girl?"
"That’s the one."
Chloe turned. Looked at Eliza. Then back at Jordan.
"She’s pretty," Chloe said. "In a boring way."
Jordan snorted.
"I’m serious." Chloe’s voice dropped lower. "She looks like every other rich blonde girl on campus. There’s like fifty of her."
"Chloe."
"I’m just saying." Chloe’s hand was still in his. Her thumb traced circles on his palm. "You upgraded."
Jordan looked at her. Really looked.
Chloe wasn’t wearing makeup. Her hair was in a simple ponytail. She wore a hoodie and jeans like half the girls in class.
But the way she looked at him was different.
Like she saw past the haircut and the new body and the Alluring Whisper vocal cords. Like she saw Jordan McKnight, the guy who spent six months gooning in his apartnt and got publicly cucked in a parking lot on Christmas.
And liked him anyway.
His chest hurt.
Different than before.
Better.
"Yeah," Jordan said quietly. "I did."
Chloe’s smile was small. Private. Just for him.
The door opened again.
Professor Delgado walked in carrying a coffee and a stack of papers. She was thirty-six, Latina, with dark hair pulled back in a bun and the kind of warm energy that made students actually want to participate.
"Good afternoon everyone," Dr. Delgado said, setting her coffee on the podium. "Hope you all had a good weekend. Let’s talk about social stratification."
She clicked the projector on.
Jordan turned back to his laptop. Started typing.
But his chest still ached.
Just a little.
Like the old Jordan was still in there sowhere. The one who spent twenty-eight hundred dollars on a bag. The one who waited in parking lots. The one who thought love was sothing you could buy if you just tried hard enough.
That Jordan had put Eliza on a pedestal so high he couldn’t see her clearly anymore.
This Jordan knew better.
Under the desk, Chloe’s hand stayed in his.
Dr. Delgado started talking about class systems and social mobility. Jordan wrote it all down. Kept his eyes forward.
Didn’t look back once.
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