Dr. Delgado wrapped up her lecture on social stratification five minutes early. She dismissed the class with a reminder about the reading assignnt due Monday.
Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. Students filed toward the door in small groups.
Chloe looked at Jordan.
He was still staring at his paper. Pencil in his hand. Not writing. Just holding it above the notebook like he’d forgotten how his fingers worked.
Chloe’s stomach twisted.
That bitch Eliza was still sitting in the back row. Laughing at sothing Caron said. Acting like she hadn’t just walked into the classroom and detonated a bomb in Jordan’s chest.
Chloe squeezed his hand under the desk.
Jordan blinked. Turned to her.
"Sorry," he said. His voice ca out rough. "I’ve been out of it."
"Yeah." Chloe kept her voice soft. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah. Course I will." Jordan set the pencil down. Closed his notebook. "It’s just...awkward."
"Hm."
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes had gone distant again. Like he was sowhere else entirely.
Chloe wanted to punch Eliza’s perfect teeth in.
"I need to go to the gym anyway," Jordan said. He was packing his bag now. Movents automatic. "So I’ll head there. When I’m done, you should be done with class. We can head ho together."
"Yeah. Sounds good." Chloe forced brightness into her voice. "We gotta make sure the Twitch stream is ready anyways."
"Hell, maybe I’ll join you."
"Really?" Chloe’s face lit up. Genuine this ti. "You’d watch my first stream?"
"Yeah." Jordan finally smiled. Small but real. "Soone’s gotta be your first viewer."
"You’re sweet."
"I’m really not."
"Shut up and take the complint."
Jordan laughed. Stood up. Slung his bag over his shoulder.
"Text when class is over," he said.
"I will."
He leaned down. Kissed her forehead quickly.
Then he was gone.
Chloe sat there for a mont. Watched him disappear through the door.
Her chest ached.
Not for herself.
For him.
She packed her own bag slowly. Checked the ti. Twenty minutes before Stats started. Enough ti to use the restroom and get to the next building.
Chloe stood. Walked out into the hallway.
The won’s restroom was two doors down. She pushed through the door. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Three stalls. Two sinks. One mirror streaked with water spots.
Empty.
Good.
Chloe set her bag on the counter. Turned on the faucet. Cold water rushed over her hands.
She scrubbed. Let the water wash away the tension crawling up her spine.
The door opened behind her.
Chloe glanced up.
Her reflection t hers in the mirror.
And there, frad in the doorway, was Eliza Hartwell.
Blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Cream sweater perfectly fitted. Skin that looked like it had never seen a single pore. She carried a small makeup bag in one hand.
Their eyes t in the glass.
Eliza stopped. Her mouth opened slightly.
"Oh," she said.
Chloe turned off the water. Reached for a paper towel.
"Hey," Chloe said. Flat. Gave nothing.
Eliza moved to the other sink. Set her makeup bag down carefully. Like it might explode if she handled it wrong.
"You’re in my Sociology class," Eliza said.
"Yep."
"I’m Eliza."
"I know who you are."
Eliza’s hands stilled on her makeup bag. She looked at Chloe again. This ti her expression shifted into sothing cautious.
"Do we know each other?" Eliza asked.
"Not directly."
Chloe dried her hands. Balled up the paper towel. Tossed it in the trash.
She should leave.
Walk out. Go to Stats. Forget this interaction ever happened.
But her feet didn’t move.
Eliza pulled out a compact. Opened it. Started touching up her foundation with a beauty blender.
"You were sitting next to Jordan," Eliza said. Her voice was light. Conversational. Like they were friends catching up.
Chloe’s jaw tightened.
"Yeah," she said.
"He looks really different."
"He does."
"I almost didn’t recognize him." Eliza dabbed at her cheek. "His hair used to be this awful box-dye brown. And he was thinner. More...I don’t know. Nervous?"
Chloe leaned back against the sink. Crossed her arms.
"Is there a point to this?" she asked.
Eliza stopped. Set the beauty blender down.
"I’m just making conversation," she said.
"About my boyfriend."
The word landed like a grenade.
Eliza’s eyes went wide. She turned fully now. Faced Chloe directly.
"Your boyfriend?" Eliza repeated.
"Yeah."
"Jordan is your boyfriend?"
"That’s what I said."
Eliza’s mouth opened. Closed. She looked like soone had just explained quantum physics using only hand puppets.
"Since when?" Eliza asked.
"Since this week."
"This week?" Eliza’s voice went up half an octave. "You’ve been dating for less than a week?"
"That a problem?"
"No. I just..." Eliza’s hands fluttered. "He moves fast, I guess."
Chloe’s fingers dug into her arms.
"He didn’t move fast with you," she said. "You strung him along for two months and never even kissed him."
Eliza’s face went red.
"Excuse ?"
"You heard ."
"How do you even know that?"
"Jordan told ." Chloe pushed off the sink. Took a step closer. "He told everything. The dates. The gifts. The Prada bag."
Eliza’s jaw clenched.
"That’s between and Jordan," she said.
"Not anymore it’s not."
"Look." Eliza’s voice hardened. "I don’t know what Jordan told you, but things were complicated between us."
"Nothing was complicated." Chloe’s voice stayed level. Cold. "You used him for free stuff. Then you cheated on him. In a parking lot. On Christmas."
Eliza flinched.
"I didn’t cheat on him," she said. "We were never actually together."
"He thought you were."
"That’s not my fault."
Chloe laughed. No humor in it.
"Right," she said. "You just let him spend five thousand dollars on you. Let him think he had a chance. Then you fucked Caron and told Jordan to lose your number."
Eliza’s face went from red to white.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.
"I already told you. I’m his girlfriend."
"For less than a week."
"Yeah. And I already know more about him than you learned in two months."
Eliza’s hands shook. She grabbed her makeup bag. Shoved the compact back inside.
"This conversation is over," she said.
"Sure."
Eliza turned toward the door.
Chloe’s voice stopped her.
"Hey. Eliza."
Eliza looked back. Her eyes were sharp. Guarded.
"If you talk to him," Chloe said quietly, "if you even look at him the wrong way, I’ll make your life hell."
Eliza’s mouth twitched.
"Is that a threat?"
"It’s a promise."
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