The Professor I Shouldn't Want

A Lie Well Told

POV: Isadora

“It’s about nine hundred square feet.”, the realtor said as soon as we stepped inside. “This is the living area.”, she added, pointing toward the empty space. The hardwood floors were slightly worn down by time. The walls were white, featuring two medium-sized windows with basic blinds.

“The kitchen is over there.”, she said, leading the way. It had some beige wooden cabinets that showed clear signs of wear and tear, along with a small countertop. “It’s on the smaller side, but it has the essentials, stove, oven, fridge... No dishwasher, though.”, she noted, looking at me.

“That’s fine.”, I smiled.

“Well...”, she started walking again. “Next is the bathroom.”, she headed toward a wooden door and swung it open. “It’s pretty compact, but it gets the job done.”

The bathroom had white tiled floors and walls, a simple pedestal sink with a small vanity underneath, and a very basic rectangular mirror. It was a shower-tub combo with a plastic curtain.

“And finally, the bedrooms! There are two; this is the master.”, she said, opening the door.

Even the "master" bedroom felt small. It had a decent-sized window and a closet that wouldn't fit even half of my clothes. But considering Anne would be living here, not Isadora, the size was more than enough.

Yes, I was going all-in on this charade. If I was going to live a lie, it might as well be a lie well told. I couldn’t keep relying on the luck of someone leaving the building at the exact moment I needed to get in every time he wanted to drop me off.

And what if he wanted to pick me up? Or visit? No, I had to fix this, and ultimately, the safest bet was to rent a place there. Luckily, I'd found a vacancy.

“So, what do you think?”, she asked right after showing me the second bedroom.

“It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”

After sorting out all the paperwork with the realtor, I went furniture shopping. I had an entire apartment to furnish and had to do it fast, before I saw Henry again. I got lucky that he was buried in work that weekend and couldn’t hang out. It gave me the time I needed, not just to break things off with Ryan, but to get Anne’s place together.

I spent the rest of Saturday scrolling through used furniture ads online. My first instinct was to go to a custom furniture store; I’d already imagined how gorgeous those pieces would look in the space. There were just two problems: first, it was a rental. Second, and more importantly, Anne could never afford something like that.

Again, I had to remind myself that Anne and I weren't in the same social class. If I wanted my lie to be consistent, I could never forget that. So I did exactly what someone living paycheck to paycheck would do, I went after used furniture. And I actually managed to score some really good finds in great condition.

I skipped class on Monday. It sucked to go another day without seeing Henry, but I was too anxious to finish setting up Anne’s apartment. I already had the keys, so I spent the whole day there arranging the stuff I’d just bought.

By the end of it, the living room had two small loveseats, a wooden coffee table, and a wall-mounted TV, plus a small four-person dining set that didn't fit in the kitchen. Speaking of the kitchen, I only bought the basics: pots, pans, plates, glasses, silverware, and some groceries to stock the cabinets and the fridge.

In the bathroom, just the bare essentials for toiletries. And in the bedrooms, both had queen beds because I’d had the "brilliant" idea of telling Henry I had a roommate. Way to go, Isadora. I had to set up an extra room just for that. But whatever, it helped make the story more realistic.

Besides the bed, I also put a desk in Anne’s room; at least I'd been smart enough to say she worked from home. I shoved all the clothes I’d bought for her into the closet, it was a tight fit, but I made it work. I also stashed my supply of temporary hair dye in there.

At the end of the day, I flopped onto my sofa, which was probably twice my age, and admired my handiwork. For a second, I wanted to believe this really was my life. That I was just a regular girl living in a simple apartment in the middle of Boston, working my ass off every day to pay the bills. I didn't want to romanticize the struggle; I knew it couldn't be easy. And I definitely should be eternally grateful for the privilege I’d always had. But still, there seemed to be a certain freedom in it, the kind I’d never had.

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of it. It was my mother. I took a deep breath and picked up.

“Where are you?”, she asked, cutting straight to the point.

“I’m... out with some friends. Why?”

“Why?”, she let out a dry laugh. “Would you care to explain why I’m hearing from Ryan’s aunt that you two aren't together anymore?”, I rolled my eyes. I knew I’d have to have this talk with her sooner or later.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you, it just happened.”

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“What did you screw up, Isadora?!”, she snapped. “Why did he break up with you?”

“Wait, is that what his aunt told you? That he broke up with me?”

It was so like Ryan to try to come out on top; God knows what he’d made up.

“And what else could it be? You wouldn't be stupid enough to dump him.”, she said, which set me off.

“Well, I guess I’m pretty stupid then, because that’s exactly what happened.”

“Excuse me?”

“I broke up with him, Mom!”

“Have you lost your mind?! I can’t believe this... Get home this instant!”, she barked and hung up. I sighed in frustration, leaning back against the sofa. So much for that freedom I didn't have.