Why I Hate my Roommate Ch. 02

"Girlfriend," she said. "Are you seeing all those girls glancing his way? He'd be someone to be seen with. I'm sorta shocked at you."

It struck me that her suggestion of being seen with a hot guy would have made perfect sense to me if I hadn't just been on the other end of that game ten minutes ago.

"He was... I dunno, he just assumed I'd drop everything and talk to him."

"Yeah, and?"

I liked Sandy. But she was a little boy crazy. She wasn't the prettiest and she drank too often and I'd sometimes felt that she wasn't going to make it at this school, because she just seemed, I don't know, directionless. I didn't even know her major. She didn't seem to click with guys and it was easy to see her drifting through life, having a few drinking friends and maybe a fuckbuddy at some point and that was going to be it for Sandy.

Was I going to be like that?

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah?"

She was watching my face. "You're on the edge of tears. What did he say to you?"

"I'm fine. He was just a little arrogant."

"Why can't I ever meet them hot and just a little arrogant," she sighed. "Look, stop by this evening if you need to talk, kay? Lemon punch and conversation about how guys suck, the keys to a happy life."

"Um... need to study. Maybe. I don't know."

She shook her head. "He got to you somehow. Well, whatevers. I have to run, laters!"

She walked off. I was barely aware of her leaving.

At one extreme there was Sy. Enslaved, in love, committed, kneeling to a man she legitimately believed had the right to spank her and make her crawl. Great sex, almost smug contentment, but still enslaved.

On the other, Sandy, doing what she wanted, mostly bad things, never in love, never in anything, no sex, no contentment and probably unaware of that, going nowhere slowly.

Somewhere between, me. Not enslaved, but never in love, never committed, the sex had been okish, and I was very suddenly no longer content with my simple little world. My roommate had accidentally clawed my view of things to shreds, and I didn't know what to do about that. Her view was still very wrong but mine was no longer right.

I knew this: I never wanted to be Sandy.

But I was much more like her than I was like Sy. And with sudden and complete clarity, I knew it.

A tear trickled, and I didn't know why, perhaps because I was steadfastly refusing to look to my own feelings.

And then I was walking off the library steps, down the street, books left behind me; even, quick steps towards 12th. I was not thinking, I was not planning, I was not listening to my thoughts, or the shrill fears singing in my veins, I was simply listening to the steady rhythm my feet as they took me to a place where all my rules could very well get rewritten... but I no longer cared about that.

And that is why I kind of hate my roommate. She's tipped me into a world I do not understand.