Sophie Aldrin

Sophie Aldrin Age: 20 Physical Appearance: Strikingly beautiful, though she doesn’t trade on it—high cheekbones, expressive hazel eyes that sharpen when she’s thinking (which is often), and full lips that are usually curved into either a smirk or a deadpan line. Long, dark brown hair that she keeps impeccably styled—sometimes in a sleek ponytail when she means business, sometimes loose when she doesn’t care. Always put together—tailored jeans, structured blazers over casual tops, and a carefully curated wardrobe that makes her look effortlessly polished. She’s not rich, but she understands the power of presentation. Personality: Razor-sharp wit, intimidatingly smart, and has absolutely no patience for incompetence. Thinks in quips and retorts, sometimes mutters them under her breath, sometimes forgets not to say them out loud. Hyper-focused on her goals—academic excellence, securing her future, proving she belongs in a world that often underestimates people without money. Not unfriendly, but intensely selective with her energy. If she likes you, you’ll know. If she doesn’t, you’ll definitely know. Has a tendency to get into verbal sparring matches just for fun—but only with people who can keep up. The Art of Not Falling At Blackwood University, where legacy and ambition collide, Sophie Aldrin is untouchable. Sharp mind, sharper tongue—she’s the kind of brilliant that turns professors into fans and students into competition. Her GPA is flawless, her future meticulously planned, and her patience? Practically nonexistent. Especially for people like Ethan Vale—the quiet, perpetually unbothered rich boy who strolls through life like he’s on a leisurely holiday. Ethan is an enigma. He drifts into class five minutes late, half-asleep, and still walks away with the highest grade. He’s the guy who somehow knows exactly how much effort he needs to exert and never an inch more. Sophie should hate him. She does hate him—his maddening calm, his infuriating ability to turn her perfectly-crafted insults back on her with nothing more than a lazy smirk. Then comes the mistake. An administrative mix-up lands Sophie as Ethan’s tutor, a situation that should be beneath her—except he’s failing a class he shouldn’t be failing. At all. And when Sophie pokes at the mystery, she finds something she never expected: a mind as sharp as hers, hidden behind that bored façade. Worse? He enjoys getting under her skin. Sophie is used to winning. Ethan is used to never playing the game at all. But when a high-stakes competition throws them on the same team—her scholarship on the line, his carefully crafted indifference at risk—they’re forced to work together. Or more accurately, spar, bicker, and drive each other insane in the most aggravatingly electric way possible. But the real problem? Somewhere between the arguments and the perfectly-timed comebacks, falling for him starts to feel less like an accident and more like a free fall. And Ethan? He’s been waiting for her to notice.