The Eight-Inch Lie

I decided to fly across two states to surprise my online boyfriend.

Instead, I got the surprise, hiding behind a plastic ficus at a loud sports bar, listening to him talk to his friends.

What good is a hot voice if she won't even send a real picture? he said, his voice dripping with scorn. She's probably a total dog.

A wave of laughter.

"If that campus queen hadn't curved me, I wouldn't be wasting my time sliding into some rando’s DMs."

"And get this," he continued, "on top of being ugly, she's thirsty as hell. Demanded I send a pic to 'verify the goods' before we even met."

One of his friends snickered. "No way. You actually send one?"

My boyfriend—Ryan—let out a smug grunt. "Yeah. But it wasn't mine. It was Liam's."

A collective "Whoa" went around the table.

"Your roommate? The guy you said was packing, like, eight inches? For real?"

"Dead serious. Why would I lie about that?"

Ryan took a drag from his vape, blowing a cloud of sickly-sweet smoke toward the ceiling. "Liam's a real one. Knew I didn't want to send my own, so he volunteered to be my, like… my dating stand-in."

A beat of silence, then the table erupted in howling laughter.

I laughed, too, a silent, bitter thing. I'd heard of stunt doubles, body doubles. A "dating stand-in" was a new one.

Three minutes. That's all I needed. Three minutes, and I was going to find out everything about this man.

1

I was a good girl.

Sweet, considerate, polite.

Optimistic, cheerful, a diligent student.

Yeah, right.

That was the character I played for my parents and their friends. The real me…

I was rebellious and sharp-tongued, with a mind that ran wild. I held a grudge like it was a winning lottery ticket, and you really didn't want to get on my bad side.

And I was hungry.

In every sense of the word.

The summer after high school graduation was a blur of scrolling through TikTok, my thumb swiping past an endless buffet of beautiful men. Lean athletes, sunny-faced pretty boys, cold, brooding grad students—all of them liked, all of them saved to a private collection.

Looking turned into wanting. Wanting turned into doing.

So, I got myself a boyfriend online.

Ryan. A year older, already in college. According to his profile, he was six-foot-two, with shoulders you could build a house on and abs so defined you could do laundry on them.

And most importantly: eight inches.

Finding a guy like that felt like winning the jackpot. I was on cloud nine.

The craziest part? He went to the same university I’d just been accepted to. It felt like fate, like the universe was writing us a love story.

He, of course, had no idea.

I kept it a secret, planning a huge surprise for the first week of school. To maintain the mystery, I never sent him a single photo that showed my face. Just artsy shots of my hands, my shadow, the back of my head.

This drove him crazy. He'd whine over the phone, his voice all pouty, saying I wasn't being "real" with him.

His hometown was just a short bus ride from mine, less than an hour away.

So, after weeks of him complaining, I decided to close the distance myself.

2

To his credit, Ryan was great about giving me a sense of security. He’d check in constantly, even sending me the name of the bar where he was hanging out with his friends.

It saved me the trouble of having to trick it out of him.

I followed the GPS on my phone, the pulsing blue dot leading me straight to a crowded sports bar called "The Dugout." Dozens of tables were crammed onto a sticky patio, but I spotted him instantly.

He was even better-looking in person.

It was the height of summer, and the air was thick and hot. A warm breeze blew across the patio, and I could feel my cheeks flush. I took a deep breath, ready to walk over.

That’s when I heard it.

Ryan slammed his beer mug on the table, his expression a mask of derision. "What good is a hot voice if she won't even send a real picture? She's probably a total dog!"

My feet froze to the pavement. The blush on my cheeks evaporated, replaced by an icy chill.

Then he kept going. "It's just for fun, anyway. If the campus queen hadn't curved me, I wouldn't be wasting my time."

"And get this," he said, leaning in conspiratorially, "on top of being ugly, she's thirsty as hell. Demanded I send her a pic."

I bit my lip, my fists clenching at my sides. He was the one who bragged about his size, asking me if I wanted to see. Of course I said yes. Who wouldn't? But now, in his version of the story, I was the desperate one.

Amid the jeers, someone asked the question. "No way. You actually send one?"

Ryan grunted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. But it wasn't mine. It was Liam's."

A chorus of "dude, no way" filled the air.

"Your roommate? The guy you said was packing, like, eight inches? For real?"

Ryan nodded. "Dead serious. Why would I lie?" He took another swig of beer. "Liam's a real one. Saw I didn’t want to do it and offered to be my, uh… my dating stand-in."

The table was quiet for a second, processing this, before they all burst into roaring laughter. "I can't even! So, this whole time, she thinks she's talking to you, but she's really getting off on you plus… one other thing?"

Another round of hoots and hollers.

Ryan’s brow furrowed. "It's not a 'relationship.' It's just messing around. She's basically a puppy on a leash. The second the semester starts, I'm ghosting her ugly ass."

By then, the words didn't even sting. My mind was completely consumed by the image that had landed in my DMs a week ago. An image of shocking, breathtaking perfection.

What was his name again?

Oh, right.

Liam.

3

On the bus ride home, I started scrolling through Ryan's Instagram. It was a monument to his own ego—a hundred photos of himself, and not a single one of anyone else.

I sighed.

Looks like I'd have to wait until school started to see what this Liam character actually looked like.

I mourned this fact for about a second before opening TikTok to scroll through my collection of hot guys.

As the bus pulled into the station, I swiped past a campus interview video. The title was "Who's Your Campus Crush?" I wasn't really interested and was about to scroll on.

But then I heard the name: "Liam."

The automated voice announced my stop. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, turning the volume on my earbuds all the way up.

I played it back three times just to be sure. I hadn't misheard. And the university name was a match.

My mind immediately flashed back to that photo…

Campus crush Liam. He had a wild side, didn't he?

4

As the start of the semester got closer, Ryan grew more and more distant. My texts would sit on "read" for days.

I gritted my teeth. If I didn't still need him for something, I would have blocked him weeks ago.

That night, staring at our one-sided text history, I decided to send one last, desperate-looking sticker.

This time, he replied almost instantly. "Hey, look, I don't think this is working out. We can be friends, but I don't think we should be… you know."

I was lying on my bed, legs crossed in the air, a sheet mask clinging to my face. I saw the message and my eyes lit up.

It was finally happening!

A grin spread across my face as I typed. "Why? Did I do something wrong? "

His reply was textbook. "No, don't even think that. It's me."

I rolled my eyes. Could he be any more cliché? After silently roasting him, I put my plan into motion.

"You don't have to spare my feelings. I know I'm not good enough for you. You deserve someone amazing. I wish you all the best."

I could practically feel his ego inflating through the phone. His guilt and vanity were at war. After a moment, he replied. "You're a great girl, Zoe. Be more confident. Seriously, I'm the one who's sorry."

Then, the magic words: "If there's anything you want, just ask. I'll make it happen."

My heart leaped. I ripped the mask off my face, sat bolt upright, and hit the call button.

He picked up. I sniffled for effect, letting a little sob creep into my voice. "You really mean… anything?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, his voice thick with sincerity. "I kind of figured you weren't super confident about your looks, and that's okay, I don't care about that stuff. If you want to meet up, I can drive down right now…"

"Then set me up with a new boyfriend." I cut him off. I didn't have the patience for his self-serving monologue.

He went silent.

Three seconds later, he finally managed a single word: "Huh?"

5

I let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Ryan, the second I saw your pictures, I knew we could never be a real thing."

"You're so handsome. How could a guy like you ever fall for a plain girl like me? Being your friend is more than I could ever ask for."

Whatever anger he might have been feeling instantly dissolved, replaced by a fresh wave of pity and self-satisfaction.

"Zoe, don't say that about yourself," he said, his voice earnest. "You're great. I… I'll set you up with my roommate. How about that?"

"He's a good-looking guy, too. Tons of girls on campus are after him, but he turns them all down."

"I think it means he doesn't just care about looks," Ryan added, selling it hard. "You two should talk. Maybe you'll hit it off."

I paused for a moment, then let out another soft sigh. "Okay… I guess I can try."

Then, as if it were an afterthought, I asked, "So, what's his name?"

"Liam. His name is Liam."

Bingo.

I hid a triumphant smile, schooling my voice to sound hesitant and small.

"Okay. Well, can you send me his contact? I'll add him."

"And Ryan? Thank you."

He chuckled, sounding relieved. "Hey, what are friends for?"

6

Ten minutes later, Liam and I were connected.

I immediately clicked on his profile, my heart pounding. His feed was completely blank. His profile picture was the generic default icon. It was like a brand-new account.

Was Ryan messing with me?

Just as the suspicion took root, a series of notifications popped up.

"Hi, Zoe. I'm Liam."

"Ryan said he was introducing you to me. As a potential boyfriend."

"I've actually been thinking about getting into a relationship recently, so I think we could give it a try."

"But I'm worried I might not be your type. I'll send you some photos first. You can decide if you want to move forward after you see them."

I bit my lower lip, my finger hovering over the screen. I held my breath and tapped on the first image.

My pupils dilated.

If a normal handsome guy made my heart flutter, Liam, even in a static photo, was enough to make me dizzy. He was breathtaking.

I squealed and kicked my feet against my mattress like a teenager.

Just then, a text from Ryan came through. "Hey, so Liam isn't the easiest guy to get along with. He's kind of cold to everyone, a total loner. Don't get discouraged if he's not super responsive. You gotta be proactive."

Hmm?

I looked back at the new set of pictures Liam had just sent. All of them shirtless, showcasing a perfectly sculpted torso.

Cold? A loner?

Because from where I was sitting, if this guy was a peacock, his tail feathers were spread so wide they were about to snap.

7

I was so busy saving every single one of Liam's pictures to my phone that I forgot to reply.

He couldn't stand the silence. "You don't like them?"

"Maybe it was a bad angle. Everyone says I look better in person. How about we meet up? I can come to you."

I raised an eyebrow. He was eager, wasn't he?

I'd read online that when you finally meet your online love in person, things can move incredibly fast. Some people even ended up in bed on the first day…

I wasn't quite ready for that.

As I was lost in thought, my finger accidentally tapped open my "hidden" album. There was only one photo in it.

Ahem.

My face felt hot. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

I poured myself a glass of ice water before typing a reply. "No, I like them. You're very handsome."

"We don't have to rush to meet. We're actually going to be at the same school. I just got accepted. We'll see each other on campus in a few days."

After I sent that, the chat went quiet for a moment. Then, my phone started vibrating.

I cleared my throat before answering, pitching my voice a little higher than usual. "Hello?"

A deep, lazy voice flowed through the speaker and straight into my ear. "Hey. It's Liam."

My heart skipped a beat. I touched my burning earlobe and whispered, "I know."

"So," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Are we boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

I countered with my own question. "But you don't even know what I look like. What if I'm ugly? Will you be disappointed?"

"No," he said, without a single hesitation.

My cheeks puffed out. That's what Ryan had said, too. And look how that turned out.

Sensing my silence, Liam spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Zoe, I don't want to lie to you. The truth is… I've seen you before."

What?

Seen me before? Where? A guy who looked like him? I would have remembered.

As my mind raced, Liam continued. "The reason I was so eager to lock things down is because I know you went to his city a few days ago. I'm pretty sure you went there to see Ryan."

I was even more confused. "He didn't even know I was there. How could you know?"

There was a brief pause on his end. "Because," he said quietly, "he's been searching for you all over the internet."

8

Liam sent me a link.

I frowned and clicked on it. It led to an Instagram post with a slightly blurry photo. In it, I was in the back of a taxi, my forehead pressed against the cool glass, the city's neon lights painting streaks across my face.

It had a kind of lonely beauty.

The caption read: "URGENT - HELP ME FIND THIS GIRL. Saw her tonight, July 7th, near The Dugout in downtown. She's the most amazing girl I've ever seen. I tried to run after her taxi but couldn't catch up. If anyone knows who this is, please help me out. I'll be your servant for life!"

Seeing that last line, I let out a snort of laughter.

I glanced at my calendar. One week until move-in day.

This was going to be fun.

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