Chapter 193 | The Man in the Reflection
Chapter 193: 193 | The Man in the Reflection
Jordan dropped Kumiko off at her dorm with another kiss that made her squeak and turn bright red before she scrambled out of his car like the vehicle was on fire. He watched her disappear through the entrance, her twin tails bouncing with every step, her hand pressed against her lips like she was trying to keep the sensation from escaping.
His phone buzzed.
A text from Kumiko. Already.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAA"
Followed by seventeen heart emojis, three crying faces, and a jellyfish sticker.
Jordan snorted and pocketed his phone.
The drive back to campus took eight minutes. He found parking on the third level of the structure near the humanities building, grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat, and headed toward his one o’clock sociology lecture. The California sun beat down on his shoulders as he crossed the quad, warm enough to make him regret wearing a dark henley.
He had twelve minutes before class started.
Enough time to hit the restroom and maybe grab a water from the vending machine.
The humanities building was quiet this time of day. Most students were either in lectures or grabbing lunch at the dining hall. Jordan’s footsteps echoed off the tile floors as he navigated the familiar hallways toward the men’s room on the first floor.
He pushed through the door.
And stopped.
Cameron Mitchell stood at the row of sinks, examining his reflection in the mirror with the kind of self-satisfaction that suggested he genuinely enjoyed what he saw. His sun-kissed dirty blonde hair was perfectly styled. His fitted polo shirt probably cost more than Jordan’s entire outfit. A Tag Heuer watch glinted on his wrist as he adjusted his collar.
The same Cameron Mitchell who had kissed Eliza in front of Jordan on Christmas Day.
The same Cameron Mitchell who had called Jordan a simp while groping Jordan’s girlfriend in a parking lot.
The same Cameron Mitchell who had walked into a love hotel with the girl Jordan spent four thousand dollars on, leaving Jordan standing alone in the cold while his entire world collapsed around him.
Jordan’s hands curled into fists.
His blood ran hot.
Every instinct screamed at him to close the distance and introduce his knuckles to Cameron’s perfect face. Just once. Just hard enough to wipe that smug expression off and replace it with something more appropriate. Fear. Pain. The sudden realization that actions had consequences.
Cameron noticed him in the mirror.
Their eyes met.
Recognition flickered across Cameron’s face. His lips curled into a smirk that made Jordan’s jaw clench so hard his teeth ached.
"Oh shit. Eliza’s wallet guy."
The words hit like a slap.
Jordan didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stood there in the doorway, feeling the familiar surge of rage that had lived in his chest since December twenty-fifth.
"Jordan, right?" Cameron turned from the mirror, leaning back against the sink with his arms crossed. The posture radiated casual dominance. "Almost didn’t recognize you. You look... different."
"Do I."
"Yeah. Less..." Cameron waved a hand vaguely. "Pathetic? Did you finally discover the gym? Good for you, man. Seriously. Self-improvement is important."
Jordan’s fist tightened.
One punch.
Just one.
He could picture it perfectly. The satisfying crack of knuckles against bone. Cameron’s head snapping back. Blood from his nose. The shock in his eyes when he realized Jordan wasn’t the same pushover he’d humiliated in that parking lot.
But then what?
Jordan thought about Chloe. About the dinner she’d cooked him. About waking up with her body warm against his chest. About the way she looked at him now, like he was someone worth looking at.
He thought about Kumiko. About jellyfish and strawberry lip gloss. About the seven percent chemistry spike from a single kiss. About the way she said his name like it meant something.
He thought about Nova Network. About the LLC paperwork Brooke had filed. About the streaming empire he was building from nothing.
He thought about his father. About the phone call. About proving he was more than the pathetic kid who threw money at problems and cried when the problems threw him away.
Cameron Mitchell wasn’t worth any of that.
Punching him would feel amazing for about three seconds. Then campus security would get involved. Then the dean. Then his father would get a call explaining that Jordan had assaulted another student. All the progress, all the growth, all the carefully constructed new life he’d been building, gone.
For what?
Revenge against a guy who probably couldn’t even remember Jordan’s last name?
Jordan exhaled slowly through his nose.
"You done?" he asked.
Cameron’s smirk faltered slightly. He’d clearly expected a different reaction. Stammering, maybe. Backing down. The old Jordan would have apologized for existing and scurried away like a kicked dog.
The new Jordan just stared at him with flat, empty eyes.
"I was just leaving." Cameron pushed off from the sink, moving toward the door. He paused next to Jordan, close enough that Jordan could smell his cologne. Expensive. Probably a gift from his father. "Hey, no hard feelings about the Eliza thing, right? She was fun but honestly kind of boring. Moved on weeks ago."
Jordan said nothing.
Cameron’s smile widened. "Anyway. Good seeing you, champ. Keep up the gym work. Maybe next Christmas you’ll actually find a girl who remembers your name."
He clapped Jordan on the shoulder and walked out.
The door swung shut behind him.
Jordan stood alone in the bathroom, fists still clenched, heart pounding against his ribs like it wanted to escape.
He walked to the sink and turned on the cold water. Splashed his face. Watched the droplets drip down his jaw and fall into the basin.
His reflection stared back at him.
Different.
Cameron was right about that much. Jordan did look different. The soft jaw was gone, replaced by something sharper. His shoulders were broader. His posture was straighter. His eyes had a quality they’d lacked before. Focus. Maybe. Purpose.
He looked like someone who could have punched Cameron Mitchell in his smug face.
He also looked like someone who knew better.