Chapter 234: 235 | Weird Words
Ava’s eyebrows rose.
"That’s arrogant."
"It’s accurate."
"Those aren’t mutually exclusive."
"No. They’re not."
The classroom door opened. Professor Nguyen entered with her usual brisk efficiency, heels clicking against the linoleum floor as she marched toward the podium. She was a small woman, Vietnamese-American, with sharp features and sharper expectations. Her wedding ring caught the fluorescent light as she opened her briefcase and retrieved a thick stack of papers that could only be graded exams.
The class went quiet.
Ava’s attention snapped to the front of the room. Her pen was already moving again, ready to capture whatever equations were about to appear on the whiteboard. Her posture shifted slightly, becoming even more hunched, even more invisible.
Jordan noticed she was shaking.
Not obviously. Not dramatically. Just a fine tremor in her hands that she was clearly trying to suppress. Her grip on the pen was too tight. Her breathing was too shallow. The anxiety she’d mentioned wasn’t just a quirky personality trait. It was a constant companion, always present, always demanding attention.
He recognized that too.
Professor Nguyen began writing on the board. The chalk screamed. Students scrambled for their notebooks. The familiar rhythm of academic suffering resumed.
Jordan took notes. He paid attention to the lecture. He answered a question correctly when Dr. Nguyen called on him, which earned him a surprised look from several classmates and a small nod of approval from the professor.
But part of his mind stayed focused on Ava Moreno.
She was brilliant. That much was obvious. The equations flowing across her notebook were leagues beyond what anyone else in the room was capable of producing. She understood concepts that the professor was still building toward, connecting dots that most students couldn’t even see.
She was also completely, utterly isolated.
No friends. No study partners. No one who sat near her or talked to her or acknowledged her existence. She existed in a bubble of her own making, protected from the world by layers of hoodie fabric and averted gazes.
Jordan knew what that felt like. He’d built his own bubble once. Filled it with video games and Reddit posts and the comfortable numbness of not trying. It hadn’t protected him from anything. It had just delayed the inevitable collapse until Christmas Day in a hotel parking lot.
Ava needed someone to pull her out.
Not because she was broken. Not because she needed saving. But because talent like hers shouldn’t be wasted hiding in the back corner of a classroom, invisible to everyone who might appreciate it.
And also because Jordan genuinely needed an accountant.
The lecture ended at 10:50 exactly. Professor Nguyen gathered her materials and left without ceremony. Students stood, stretched, began filing toward the exits with the particular urgency of people escaping a prison.
Ava started packing her bag immediately. Her movements were quick and practiced, the efficient motions of someone who had perfected the art of disappearing before anyone could notice her.
"Ava."
She froze.
"What?"
Jordan pulled out his phone. "Give me your number."
Ava’s face went through the entire visible spectrum of red. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"I... you... what?"
"Your phone number. So I can contact you about the accountant thing."
"You were serious about that?"
"I’m always serious about business."
"But I’m not... I haven’t even graduated yet. I don’t have any credentials. I’m just a math major with anxiety issues and a tendency to say inappropriate things at inappropriate times. You don’t want me handling your money."
"Why not?"
"Because I’m a mess!" Ava’s voice rose slightly, attracting a glance from a few departing students. She immediately ducked her head and lowered her volume. "I can’t even order food at a restaurant without having a minor panic attack. I cried in the bathroom for twenty minutes before my last oral presentation. I have a therapist I see twice a week because my brain refuses to function like a normal human brain. I am the opposite of a competent professional."
"You solved the extra credit problem that nobody else attempted."
Ava went still. "How do you know about that?"
"People talk in hallways. Information goes in and stays there." Jordan smiled slightly. "Sound familiar?"
For a long moment, Ava just stared at him.
Then, slowly, she pulled out her phone.
It was an old model. Cracked screen. Case that looked like it had survived several wars. She typed something with trembling fingers and showed him the screen.
Her phone number.
Jordan added her as a contact. Sent her a quick text so she’d have his number.
"I’ll be in touch," he said.
"Okay." Ava’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Okay. I’m going to go now. Before I say something else embarrassing. Which I will if I stay. I can feel the words building up. They’re going to be bad words. Weird words. Words that make people uncomfortable."
"Looking forward to it."
Ava made a noise that sounded like a keyboard smashing and fled the classroom.
Jordan watched her go, hoodie swallowing her frame, ponytail bouncing with each hurried step. She nearly collided with the door frame on her way out. Recovered. Didn’t look back.
He checked his phone.
The System notification was still there, waiting patiently.
DAILY QUEST: Path to Becoming Adonis
Social: 2/3 conversations complete
Alexis Van Der Berg ✓
Ava Moreno ✓
Jordan pocketed his phone and headed for the door.
One more conversation to go. Then ninety minutes of physical activity. Then he’d be three tickets away from a Gold Gacha pull.
The sun hit him as he stepped outside, warm and bright and full of possibility. Students moved around him in their endless currents, going about their lives, unaware that Jordan McKnight was slowly but surely building something that would change everything.
He thought about Ava Moreno. Her trembling hands. Her racing mind. The way she’d looked at him when he’d asked for her number, like he’d offered her something impossible.
She was going to be excellent.
She just didn’t know it yet.
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