Page 23 of The Naughty Professor
Jax would know how to smile without apologizing for it.Jax would never drop a beaker in front of Professor Carr.He’d pin Carr with his magical blue eyes, lean in close, and murmur something wicked that would make him laugh.Jax would make Thorne Carr want him.
I stirred the solution gently, watching it shift from clear to a deep, hypnotic violet.
But the fantasy wavered, cut through by a memory.Dr.Hargreaves’s broken voice on the phone.
She’s twenty-eight years old, Dr.Sterling.She stares at a wall all day because I thought I could play God.
My stomach twisted.
What if that were me?What if I injected this and never woke up?Or worse—what if I woke up but couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, trapped in my own head?I pictured Grandma getting the call.Juniper shaking her head, saying she knew this would happen.Thorne Carr never knowing that the bumbling professor had only wanted a chance.
My hand trembled, the glass stirring rod clinking against the side of the beaker.
“Is it worth it?”I asked the empty room.
The serum bubbled softly, as if mocking me.
I thought of the boy on the curb with his shredded book, shoulders hunched against the laughter of others.I thought of myself year after year, invisible, overlooked, ridiculed.A ghost haunting my own life.
And I thought of Professor Carr, standing in my lab today, his voice warm even when I was making a fool of myself.He’d looked at me, I think.Like, really looked at me.
Yes.It was worth it.
No, I was worth it.
I set the rod aside and lifted the beaker carefully, the violet liquid catching the light like a jewel.My reflection warped across its surface—wide eyes, glasses slipping, lips pressed tight.
“Not anymore,” I whispered.“I won’t be him anymore.”
I funneled the serum into a vial, sealed it with a trembling hand, and held it up to the light.It glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Confidence in a bottle.Freedom in a syringe.
The door to the lab creaked open, and I nearly dropped the vial.
Juniper leaned against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest.“What the hell are you doing, Dr.Sterling?”
My brain scrambled.“I—uh—nothing.Just… seeing if I could replicate the formula.It’s purely theoretical.”
She strode forward, plucked the notes off the counter, scanned them, then gave me a look that could melt steel.“This isn’t theoretical.This is you about to fuck yourself, and not in the warm and friendly way.”
I forced a laugh, way too high-pitched.“No, no.I wasn’t actually going to use it.Just curiosity, you know.For science.”
She didn’t look convinced.For a moment I thought she’d hurl the whole setup into the sink.Instead, she surprised me.Her expression softened, the sarcasm slipping at the edges.
“You’re a good guy, Dr.Sterling,” she murmured, voice low and strangely gentle.“A great guy.You don’t need a sketchy serum to make people see it.Everything you’re looking for?It’s already in you.Trust me.”
My throat closed.Juniper never spoke like this.She was sarcasm personified.But for a moment she looked at me like she actually believed in me, more than I ever had myself.
Then, predictably, she ruined it.Her mouth quirked.“And if you’re really desperate for confidence, just borrow one of my strap-ons.Both guys and girls love it.”
I sputtered, half a laugh, half a cough.“Juniper—”
She winked, tossed the notes back onto the bench, and sauntered to the door.“Don’t blow yourself up, Dr.Sterling.I don’t have time to train a new professor.”
The door slammed behind her, and I looked down at the vial in my hand, violet liquid shimmering like a promise.Juniper’s words rattled in my head, but they weren’t enough to stop me.
Confidence in a bottle.Freedom in a syringe.
