Chemistry of Temptation (StudentxProfessor)

Chapter 1: The Queen Bee Reigns

Sophia's POV

There's a certain power that comes with walking through these halls, and everyone knows I own it. The stares follow me from the second I step into the building, and I'm not just another girl in the crowd—I'm Sophia Monroe, queen bee of St. Claire University. Third year, med student, and the girl you don't want to cross. People step aside like I'm some kind of royalty, and honestly? They should. My dad's a senator, my mom's a doctor, and me? Well, I've got big things ahead of me, whether they know it or not.

I stroll down the main corridor, a small smirk curling on my lips as I catch a couple of freshmen stumbling over themselves to get out of my way. There's a slight satisfaction in their flustered looks, the way they mumble "Sorry, Sophia" like they're afraid I'll ruin their life if they so much as breathe wrong. Which, okay, maybe isn't totally inaccurate.

I toss my hair over my shoulder and slow down, just for effect. The heels of my designer boots click against the tile floor—another perfect piece of my look. Everything I wear, everything I do, is a conscious choice, right down to the last detail. If I'm going to rule this school, I'm going to look good doing it.

Behind me, I can hear Jessica, one of my closest friends, rushing to keep up. She's cute and sweet in that way that's harmless and even a little endearing—definitely not competition, but good enough to keep around. She's prattling on about some guy she met last night, like I'm supposed to care. I love Jess, don't get me wrong, but please. If I wanted to listen to that kind of whining, I'd just follow the sorority girls around for a day.

I flash her a smile as she finally catches up, eyes wide and expectant. "So? What do you think, Soph? Should I text him?"

"Oh, Jess," I say, tossing her a pitying look. "Why would you waste your time on someone who's obviously not good enough for you? Or are you that desperate?"

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, muttering, "I just thought maybe he was, I don't know... different?"

I shrug, letting the disappointment in my voice cut through. "Trust me, sweetie. They're all the same. If he hasn't begged you to go out again, he's not worth your time." I flash her a dismissive smile and pick up my pace, feeling her eyes on my back as she tries to keep up. It's funny how easily they cling to every word I say. Power like this? It's intoxicating.

As we step into the lecture hall, heads turn, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. They're waiting for me to take my seat, to see if I'll acknowledge them. It's pathetic, really, how much they all care. I give them a casual once-over, just enough to let them think I might care who they are, then slide into my seat in the front row. People have their place here, and they know exactly where they fall in relation to me.

A couple of guys a row behind me are whispering and glancing my way. I flick my gaze to them, arching an eyebrow. They freeze, their conversation dying out immediately. God, it's too easy sometimes.

One of them, Ryan, clears his throat and stammers out a "Hey, Sophia." I let him squirm in silence for a beat before responding, just to see the color rise in his cheeks. "Ryan," I say, giving him the barest hint of a nod. He practically glows at the acknowledgment. Cute, but predictable.

See, I have my pick of the guys here. I date casually, mostly one-night stands or quick flings with people I know I'll never want to see again. Relationships? No, thanks. They're messy, and I don't need anyone thinking they have any claim over me. Besides, I'd get bored within a week. The guys here are like accessories—fun for a while, but replaceable. I'll settle down when it suits me, not a second sooner.

It's funny, though. I'm actually studying medicine—okay, mostly because my mom insisted, but still. It's not like I hate it. In fact, I kinda like the idea of being a doctor someday. I mean, yeah, it's grueling and exhausting, but the prestige, the power that comes with it? That's my kind of challenge. My mom loves reminding me how it's a "respectable career." As if that's why I'd do it. Respectable, sure. But mostly? It's because I know I can.