Stupid Little Habits

“You are such a fucking idiot!”

I checked the time on my phone. 9:27 AM it read. So. They were starting early today. I listened to her screams as they echoed through the apartment and tried to block them out so I could hear the morning news. I mean, we were only in Tempe, Arizona, so not much happened here that was newsworthy. Unless you counted the crazy old man who sat outside of the gas station. He always wore a purple beanie and warned everyone that the world would end soon if we didn’t get our act together. Most of the time, I just walked right by him because he was a little scary and he was definitely a little “out there” if you know what I mean.

But right now, at almost 9:30 in the morning, I was pretty close to agreeing with him. The world probably would end if a certain couple didn’t get their acts together.

I flinched as I heard something crash to the ground, but I continued to not be fazed by the whole ordeal. Instead, I focused on the toast sitting in front of me. I paid attention to the weather forecast playing on the small TV on the kitchen counter. When we had first purchased the TV, I thought it was a frivolous purchase, an extra expense that just was not needed in our small apartment. If you wanted to watch TV from the kitchen, you weren’t in the kitchen for the right reasons.

I was wrong though, because I was the one who used the TV the most. The original TV in the living room didn’t get much use anymore, thanks to the screaming couple in the bedroom down the hall. It was hard to hear much over shrill screams and obnoxious yelling.

Not that I was bitter or anything. Oh no, not me. Not Taylor Marie Walsh. I didn’t get bitter, I got even. No, but really... I wasn’t bitter. The yelling didn’t even faze me anymore. It was more of a nuisance than anything. It was like that itch you couldn’t scratch. Or in this case, the bitch of a girlfriend you couldn’t get your roommate and best friend to get rid of.

But like I said, I wasn’t bitter. I was just... a little bit irritated with the whole ordeal.

I digress though. It was not my “ordeal” to worry about, as he often reminded me. We had our fair share of fights over Paige, the aforementioned bitchy girlfriend, which was a little ridiculous if you asked me. Fighting over fighting. It was like an oxymoron or something.

I tried my best to stay out of it all though, but that was a little hard when A) he was my best friend and B) we were roommates. I couldn’t stay out of it if I tried, and believe me, I had.

I wasn’t the only one who despised the relationship, though. The other guys did as well, they just didn’t have the balls to speak up about it. They claimed Paige scared them, but I knew better. They just didn’t want to deal with him. It was his girlfriend, and he was the one who had to put up with it, they claimed.

I claimed that it was all a load of shit.

But like I said, it was not my ordeal to worry about.

I sighed, checking the time again. It was now nearing quarter to ten, meaning I had to be in class in roughly 45 minutes. Since I didn’t have a car, that meant I would have to brave the storm that was Garrett and Paige and ask him for a ride, which most likely meant getting yelled at by Paige for interrupting their “discussion” as she often referred to all of their fights, which would probably result in me just walking out ride less anyways to avoid ripping out every single bleach blonde lock of hair on her pretty little head.

Stuffing the remains of my breakfast in my mouth, I gathered up my things.

On second thought, I’d rather walk, I thought to myself as I headed out the door with my things in hand. The second I walked out of my apartment complex, the dry Arizona heat hit my skin; I almost regretted my decision.

That is, until I watched the window up above open up as some type of old time zombie movie relic hurtled towards the ground and didn’t stop until it smashed into a million little pieces in the grass.

After that, I sprinted out of there faster than you could say Run Taylor, Run!