AVA'S POV
I was folding my last sweater into the cardboard box when Sophie burst through the dorm room door like a hurricane. Her hair was messy from running, and she had that look on her face that meant she was about to give me a lecture.
"What the hell do you mean you're moving out?" she demanded, staring at the boxes scattered around our tiny room.
I didn't look up from my packing. "I told you, I got a job. It comes with housing."
"Housing that you're moving into today? Without even telling me properly?" Sophie's voice cracked a little. "Ava, we've been roommates for two years. We've been best friends since freshman orientation. You can't just pack up and leave like this."
"I'm not leaving you, Soph. I'm just moving to a better place." I finally met her eyes, and the hurt I saw there made my chest tight. "You know how cramped it is in here. How many times have we complained about not having enough space?"
"That's not the point and you know it." Sophie sat down hard on her bed, making the springs creak. "Something's been weird with you lately. Ever since that whole thing with your sister and the money you needed. You've been acting strange, secretive."
I taped up the box with more force than necessary. "I'm not being secretive. I'm just trying to get my life together."
"By taking some mysterious job that gives you a free apartment?" Sophie's voice rose. "Ava, that doesn't happen in real life. Jobs don't just hand out luxury housing to college students."
"How do you know it's luxury?" I snapped, then immediately regretted my tone.
"Because I saw the address you wrote down. That's the expensive part of town, Ava. Those apartments cost more per month than most people make." Sophie stood up and grabbed my arm. "Please, just talk to me. What's really going on?"
I pulled away from her grip and picked up another box. "Nothing's going on. I'm just tired of being broke all the time. Tired of eating ramen for dinner every night and wearing the same three outfits over and over."
"Since when do you care about money and clothes?" Sophie's eyes were getting watery now. "You've always said those things didn't matter."
"Maybe I changed my mind."
"People don't just change their entire personality overnight." Sophie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Sophie followed me down the hallway. "Ava, please. I'm worried about you. This whole thing feels wrong."
"What feels wrong about getting a good job and a nice place to live?" I pushed through the exit door, Sophie right behind me.
"Everything!" Sophie's voice echoed in the stairwell. "You won't tell me who you're working for, you won't explain how you suddenly got twenty-five thousand dollars to help your sister, and now you're moving out with like six hours' notice."
I stopped walking and turned to face her. "Sophie, I need you to trust me, okay? I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Her voice was barely a whisper now. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're making some really dangerous choices."
"It's not dangerous. It's just... complicated."
"Complicated how?"
I stared at my best friend, the girl who'd held my hair back when I was sick, who'd stayed up all night with me during finals week, who'd been the only family I had besides Elise. I wanted to tell her everything.
About Professor Thorne's offer, about the contract I'd signed that made me feel like I was drowning and flying at the same time.
But I couldn't. The words just wouldn't come.
"I can't explain it right now," I said finally. "But I need you to believe that I'm doing this for good reasons."
Sophie's face crumpled. "I don't want you to go."
"I'm not disappearing, Soph. I'm just moving across town. We'll still see each other all the time."
"No, we won't." She shook her head. "Things are changing, and we both know it. You're changing."
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was changing. But I didn't have a choice anymore.
"I have to go," I said, opening my car door. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
Sophie didn't answer. She just stood there on the sidewalk, watching me load my entire life into the back of my beat-up Honda. When I drove away, she was still standing there, getting smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.
The apartment looked even more beautiful in the afternoon light. I spent three hours unpacking my pathetic collection of belongings into closets and drawers that were way too big for what I owned. My clothes looked lost in the walk-in closet. My books barely filled one shelf of the massive bookcase in the living room.
I was arranging my toiletries in the marble bathroom when the doorbell rang.
"Coming!" I called, padding to the front door in my socks. I wasn't expecting anyone. Maybe it was a neighbor welcoming me to the building, or a delivery person with something for the previous tenant.
I opened the door without checking the peephole, which was my first mistake.
Professor Gabriel Thorne stood in the hallway, looking perfectly composed in his usual expensive suit. He was holding a leather briefcase in one hand and a set of keys in the other.
"Professor Thorne?" I blinked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?”
He stepped past me into the apartment, like he owned the place. Which, I suddenly realized with growing horror, he probably did.
“Didn't you said this was part of my employment package."
"It is." Professor Thorne set his briefcase down on the kitchen counter and turned to face me. The blood was draining from my face. "This apartment is actually mine, Miss Moreau.”
I felt like the floor was tilting under my feet. "Your apartment. You mean... you live here?"
"Yes." He looked up from his phone and met my eyes.
My jaw dropped open. No words came out.
"Henceforth," he said, too calmly, "we'll be living together."