It started with a failing grade and an impossible professor.
Casey's hands trembled slightly as she knocked on Professor Hale's office door. She wasn't alone. Behind her stood Amber the type of girl professors never forgot and Jordan, the TA who somehow always seemed to be in the right place at the wrong time.
Casey had expected a private meeting to plead her case. But the professor had invited both Amber and Jordan. Apparently, they were failing too.
The air was thick the moment they stepped inside the office. Books lined the walls like sentries, and the shades had been drawn, muting the afternoon sunlight. Professor Hale sat back in his chair, pen tapping slowly against the edge of his desk, eyes drifting lazily over them.
"All three of you," he said, voice low, unimpressed. "Barely scraping a pass. And finals are over."
Amber shifted, her glossed lips parted, feigning innocence. "Isn't there anything we can do to fix this, Professor?"
He tilted his head. "That depends. How far are you willing to go for an A?"
Jordan coughed, but didn't laugh. Casey felt her stomach flip. This was the kind of thing people joked about urban legends whispered in the girls' dorm. But the way Professor Hale looked at them… it wasn't a joke.
"You're asking us to…" Casey couldn't finish the sentence.
"Not asking," he said. "Offering a last chance."
Amber sat on the desk, crossing her long legs slowly, deliberately. "I don't mind group projects," she murmured.
Professor Hale smirked.
Jordan stayed silent. His gaze flicked from Casey to Amber and then back to the professor. Something about his jaw was tight, but he didn't leave.
Casey swallowed, her body betraying her as heat pooled low in her belly. Maybe it was the tension. Maybe it was the thrill of power dynamics the forbidden edge they were now dancing along.
"No touching," the professor said suddenly. "Not yet."
They all froze.
"This is a test," he added, standing slowly. "Not of your bodies. Of your willingness to surrender control."
Amber arched a brow. "Sounds like a power trip."
Professor Hale stepped closer. "Maybe. But in this room, I grade on performance. Not obedience."
Casey's heart thudded. Jordan shifted beside her, brushing her hand lightly with his. She didn't pull away. The professor noticed.
"Good. Chemistry matters."
Amber stood, facing Casey. "You're really going to do this?"
Casey met her eyes. "Do you want to fail?"
"I never fail," Amber whispered. "I just play differently."
There was a soft chuckle from the professor. He walked to the whiteboard behind him and wrote a single word: Submission.
Then he turned to Jordan. "You'll lead."
Jordan's mouth parted. "Me?"
"You're the only one here who hasn't asked for the grade. You're the control variable."
Casey looked at Jordan. His face was flushed, but he didn't back down. Slowly, deliberately, he took a step toward the girls.
Amber raised her chin, but her breath hitched when Jordan brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Casey wasn't sure what shocked her more Amber letting him or the ache she felt watching it happen.
Then he turned to her. Casey stood still as his fingers brushed her wrist. Electricity skittered through her veins.
"She's more nervous," Jordan said, glancing at the professor.
"Then start with her."
Casey's lips parted. "Wait"
But Jordan didn't kiss her. He simply held her face, tilting her chin up, gaze searching hers. "We stop if you say so."
Amber made a quiet sound behind them. "God, you're such a romantic."
Jordan didn't break eye contact. "Consent is everything. Even here."
Casey's breath shuddered out. She nodded.
Then everything shifted.
Amber came up behind her, whispering into her ear. "Let yourself want it. Just for tonight."
Jordan's hand moved to the small of her back.
Professor Hale didn't speak again. He just watched.
The tension in the room wound tighter, each breath more loaded than the last. Amber leaned in closer, their lips almost brushing, and Casey felt herself pulled between them, between curiosity and fear, between desire and doubt.
Nothing about this felt normal.
Nothing about this felt safe.
But maybe that was the point.
Casey's pulse hammered as Jordan's thumb brushed her jawline, steady but unyielding. His presence grounded her, but Amber's whisper still lingered in her ear, a dare wrapped in velvet. Between them, she felt like a rope pulled taut in a game she didn't know the rules to.
Professor Hale finally moved, circling them slowly like a predator studying prey. "See," he said, his voice a low drawl, "you've already begun. Control, surrender, trust, they blur. The question is… how much are you willing to risk?"
Amber smirked, ever the provocateur, and stepped in closer until her shoulder pressed against Casey's. "Risk is fun," she murmured. "Isn't that why you came?"
"I came to pass the class," Casey shot back, though her voice wavered, betraying nerves she couldn't hide.
"Same thing." Amber's lips quirked. "It's just a different kind of test."
Jordan's eyes searched Casey's face, softer, less mocking than Amber's. "You don't have to."
"Yes, she does," the professor cut in, sharp. "That's the point of pressure. Diamonds or dust. Which will you be?"
Casey hated him for the metaphor, hated that his gaze saw through her defenses. She wasn't a diamond. She wasn't sure she could be. But the part of her that had walked into this office despite the rumors wasn't the kind of girl who ran, either.
Her lips parted, breath catching. "Show me."
The room seemed to still. Amber's eyes gleamed, Jordan stiffened, and Professor Hale smiled like a man who'd just won a bet.
"Good," he said. "Now let's see if you mean it."
Amber leaned forward first, brushing her lips feather-light across Casey's cheek. It wasn't a kiss, not really, more a challenge, a spark tossed onto dry wood. Casey's skin tingled where Amber had touched her, heat rushing beneath the surface.
Jordan's hand tightened at her back, guiding her forward without force, but with certainty. "Breathe," he whispered. His voice was steady, but his own chest rose too quickly.
Casey drew in air, shaky but obedient, and let herself tip into the gravity pulling her closer to both of them. Her fear hadn't vanished, it pulsed right alongside the ache of anticipation, but in some strange way, that made it sharper. Realer.
Professor Hale's voice slid through the tension like a knife. "Better. Now, remember this, wanting is only dangerous if you deny it."
Casey swallowed, Amber's perfume clouding her senses, Jordan's warmth anchoring her. Maybe nothing about this was safe. But as Amber's fingers laced with hers, as Jordan's lips brushed her temple in silent reassurance, Casey realized safety wasn't what she craved anymore.
It was surrender.
And for the first time, she thought maybe she was ready to give it.