the roommate → brad simpson | ✓

three - "ill crawl my fist up your ass"

I roll over on my bed, wrapping the quilts around me as I try to ignore my blaring alarm coming from my phone so I can go back to sleep.

"Turn that piece of shit off before I throw it out of the window," Brad calls through his pillow which was covering his face. I groan and roll over, turning off my alarm.

Brad and I had successfully avoided each other at all costs. We came to the conclusion that we do not get along at all. I hadn't seen him much since he was out with his friends and I was with Britt yesterday.

Today was the day I've been dreading for the past six weeks since I finished college. I had had anxiety attacks from working myself up for this day, I had nightmares about this day. And what day was it?

My first day at university.

"I'm taking a shower," I announce as I stand up off of my bed. I had set an early alarm so I could get up and go to the library before classes and print off my class schedule so Brad knew when to avoid me.

He doesn't reply and I roll my eyes, walking into the bathroom and locking the door shut so that he didn't accidentally walk into the bathroom while I was butt naked drying myself like boys do in books.

I go through my playlist and put on Pink Lemonade by The Wombats before stripping down and getting into the shower.

There was a huge contrast between my toiletries and Brad's. It wasn't like mine was full of makeup or anything, since I only used makeup when I went to parties. But I had more spot cream and face wash than him—which was unfair because even I noticed that his skin was perfect.

Once I've done showering, I dry myself off and walk through the bathroom door to get my clothes. Brad was laying on his bed on his phone, typing away and I'm thankful that he didn't notice me wrapped in a towel trying to find a bra.

When I finally find a bra, I throw it on my bed along with my shirt as I try and find a clean pair of trousers to wear. I turn around to see Brad with a raised eyebrow and my bra in his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yell, lunging forward to grab my bra with one hand while the other hand kept my towel on. He yanks his hand back so I can't reach it. "I know you've got big tits and all but I don't think that bra will fit you."

"I know," he smirks. "It's a big bra, I thought your tits were as small as your ass. Your clothes swamp you, make you look more. . . I don't know? Fat?"

I shoot him a deadly glare, "Did you just call me fat? Because I swear to God if you did, then I'm gonna rip your curls off of your head, shove it up your ass and rip off your testicles. Do you understand?"

"I didn't call you fat," he denies, a smirk on his face. "I meant flat. Your clothes make you look more flat."

He chuckles and dumps the bra on my bed before going into the bathroom to shower himself. I was so frustrated and shocked that he did actually call me fat, that I was just frozen in place.

When I was younger, I would always get made fun of because of my weight. It wasn't like I was dangerously overweight or fat, but I was definitely bigger than all the others girls. Britt was thin as well, and part of pretty much all of the sports teams for girls, so that didn't make me look any thinner.

Eventually when I started sixth form, the bullying got boring and annoying and it started to get to me. I wanted to start looking after myself. As the end of sixth form grew near, I started looking at alternative methods to losing weight. I changed my dietary plan, less junk food and more exercise mostly.

I knew as soon as the end of summer arrived, I had lost thirty one kilograms and now only weighed sixty kg. I was so proud of myself and for Brad to call me fat, even though I wasn't his friend and I didn't plan on being, was still a knock back for me.

I mumble strings of incoherent words as I shove on my black and white striped trousers and an oversized yellow shirt. I look at myself in the mirror and I guess Brad was right, my clothes did swamp my figure. I roll my eyes and put on my fishnet socks and Doc Martins before slinging on a jacket and leaving before Brad got out of the shower.

My hair was damp but brushed through as I walk through the hallway and out of campus and over to the library in the main uni block. Once I'm in, I sit down and open up the email that had all of my classes on and copy and paste he schedule into a word document. Five minutes later, I have a piece of paper with my class timetable etched on it, walking back up to my dorm.

I slam the paper on the side cabinet as Brad listens to music on his bed, therefore not noticing me. At the sound of the bang, he looks up alarmed and rips his earphones out of his ears.

"What the hell?" He sighs as he catches his breath. "What's crawled up your ass to make you a cranky bitch?"

"I'll crawl my fist up your ass and rip out all of your intestines if you don't stop insulting me," I shoot him a sarcastic smile, lifting up the paper extending my arms out to broadcast what it is. "These are my classes every two weeks. Feel free to be in here as much as you want while I'm in classes, and be out of here when I'm out of classes. I don't want to have to spend more time with you than I have to."

He stands up, snatching my timetable out of my hand as his eyes scan over my classes, "you took fashion design?"

"Is there a problem with that?" I raise an eyebrow as my hands are in my back pockets. His eyes slowly lift off the paper as he looks my clothes up and down.

"I don't understand how you're gonna be a fashion designer if you dress yourself as bad as you do," he shrugs and hands me back my timetable which I take off of him with a glare. "But whatever, I'm probably gonna hangout with my friends when I'm not in class."

"Alright then."

He nods in agreement, "I've got class in ten minutes, then. I guess I'll print off my timetable just so you know when I'm in and out, baby cakes."

"Call me baby cakes again and I'll knock your teeth outs."

"Why are you so aggressive?" He rolls his eyes as he slips on his shoes. "I'm gonna go, try to make some friends while I'm gone."

"I have a friend," a call out to him as he walks out of the door and I let out a sigh, sitting on the edge of my bed.

He was going to be impossible to live with. He was rude and blunt and although I was used to being insulted because of my weight, it still hurt my feelings. I know, wow, I have feelings!

Not only that, he was also a messy roommate. We had spent one night together and already he had clothes sprawled across the floor and underwear hanging out his drawers. His bedsheets were half on and half off the bed and his pillow was on the floor too.

I let out a groan and pick his pillow up and put it on the bed, as well as putting his quilts on properly. I had time to kill before my first class and making sure the room was clean before I left seemed like a grown up thing to do. Maybe he'll even respect me a bit more.

I cautiously pick up the clothes on the floor, putting them in the washing basket. I also quickly put his underwear properly in his drawers. I guess my mum's OCD rubbed off on me a little bit.

As I finish, I look at the time and I have enough time to grab breakfast from the campus' canteen and get to class. With one last sigh, I grab my phone and make my way out of the apartment.

unedited.