Eventually, my boyfriend texted him to see if he would talk about the situation. Another time, I was on a Zoom call in the living room and heard, from behind his closed bedroom door, the Avril Lavigne song “Girlfriend,” the chorus of which is a peppy “Hey, hey, you, you, I don’t like your girlfriend,” playing at a pointed volume. Though he lived in the apartment for several more months, I saw him only one other time, on the way to the bathroom. So I was sort of shocked when the roommate got up without a word, went into his room, slammed the door, and never spoke to me again.
I snapped and said, loudly, “This conversation is dumb, and I don’t want to keep having it.” I knew it was rude, but I thought it was expedient, eldest-sibling rude. The roommate was getting louder and louder my boyfriend was repeating himself. This kind of argument can be entertaining if the participants are making funny or interesting points, but they weren’t, and they wouldn’t drop it. One night, he and my boyfriend started bickering about which Lorde album is better, the first one or the second one. Check out more from this issue and find your next story to read.
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