Brad's Bitch

It was eight years ago and Brad and I were freshmen roommates in college. From the beginning, we didn't really click. If the university did any sort of matching of roommates, they sure fucked up in our case. Brad was loud and brash; I was quiet and introspective. He was mainly in school to party; I was a serious student. I hated it when I'd come back from the library late at night and find his signal on the door-a lapel pin in the corkboard-indicating that he had a girl in the room. I'd wind up sleeping on a sofa in the floor lounge.

For the most part, we simply co-existed. I was counting the days down until the end of the year. Really! I had a little tally sheet over my desk. Brad had no idea what it was, but each day I'd cross off on square so I could mark my progress toward getting away from Brad.

Then, in the middle of the spring term, Brad's girlfriend dumped him. She dumped him hard. In my mind, I cheered her on, thinking she'd seen what a crass jerk he was and that was why she'd broken up. But Brad was so busted up that he couldn't even bring himself to date other girls, even though there were lots who would have wanted to go out with him.

But not feeling like dating didn't mean that Brad was fine with being celibate. In retrospect, I guess his sex drive was building up steam without any release. But I didn't realize that until later.

It was late one Saturday night-well, I guess it was really early one Sunday morning-about a month after his girlfriend had dropped him that it became clear that Brad's sexual urges were overwhelming him. I was just about asleep when he came in from hanging out with some other guys. He was obviously very drunk. I could tell that from the fumbling with his card in the door before the door unlocked and, as soon as he walked in the room, from the alcohol he reeked of.

I tried to ignore him. It was a little difficult because he not only stumbled into about every piece of furniture in the dorm room as he took off his clothes but he also turned on the light and even started talking to me. I really didn't want get in a conversation with him. I didn't like him when he was sober and I liked him much less when he was drunk.