The Girlfriend He Called "Annoying"
Daisy Swift · Ongoing · 8.9k Words
Introduction
My brother chuckled. "She's been texting you non-stop all night. Doesn't it annoy you?"
The roommate barely looked at his screen. "Annoying," he muttered.
My thumbs froze over the keyboard.
Chapter 1
I was always a clingy girlfriend, something my online boyfriend seemed to eat right up. That is, until my brother's birthday dinner. I noticed his pretty-boy roommate's phone lit up the exact second I sent a text.
My brother chuckled. "She's been texting you non-stop all night. Doesn't it annoy you?"
The roommate barely looked at his screen. "Annoying," he muttered.
My thumbs froze over the keyboard.
...
[It's been 4 whole minutes.]
[Pay attention to meeee!!! .]
[Am I annoying you, babe?]
[You don't even love me anymore. Tragic.]
I fired off those texts right in the middle of my brother's birthday dinner. We'd been dating online for months, and my boyfriend—saved in my phone simply as A—was used to it. Honestly, pestering him was one of my favorite pastimes.
Across the table, a phone chimed.
I looked up.
It belonged to my brother Leo's university roommate, Adrian William. Leo showed me a group photo of his roommates a while back, and I was immediately drawn to Adrian Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long legs. A face that had made me zoom in and then pretend I was looking at something else.
This was our first meeting in person and the photo hadn't done him justice.
Adrian's phone chimed again.
My thumb stopped above the keyboard. I looked from my screen to his, which lay beside his plate, angled away from me.
I sent one more message.
Another chime. His screen lit up.
No way!
Right then, Leo made a remark. "I didn't think anyone could be clingier than my sister."
I glared at him. He ignored me and leaned toward Adrian.
"Seriously, your phone hasn't stopped since you sat down. She's been texting you all night. Doesn't that get annoying?"
Adrian picked up his phone and replied, "It's annoying."
He didn't look embarrassed or pleased. He started typing with the same calm expression he'd worn all evening.
My phone's screen lit up a second later.
A: [I'm out. My roommate's birthday dinner.]
A: [I'll spend time with you when I get back.]
Until then, I'd only known his name was Adrian William.
That had never bothered me. I knew his voice, his gaming habits, and the way he answered even my stupidest messages. A had felt like enough of a name.
Now I needed the rest.
[What's your full name?]
Across from me, Adrian's thumb moved.
A: Adrian William.
"Lily? Are you feeling okay?"
Leo leaned closer, trying to peek at my screen. I quickly flipped it facedown.
"I'm fine."
"You look awful."
Normally, I would've had something to say about his bedside manner. But now, I couldn't manage it.
Adrian was right there, and I couldn't stop hearing the flat way he'd said that word "Annoying."
"I still have a group assignment to finish," I said. "I should get back to campus."
Leo studied me for another moment, then ordered me a car.
"Text me when you get to your dorm."
I nodded, picked up my bag, and left without looking across the table again.
Back in my dorm room, I lay on my bed with my phone beside me. I wasn't angry enough to throw it,but I couldn't bring myself to open our chat, either.
Months earlier, I'd met A in an online game. The other team had been chasing me, and I'd turned on my mic to beg for help in my sweetest voice.
"Hey, handsome. Save me?"
He'd taken out the players chasing me before I could get myself killed.
That was all the encouragement I needed.
"You're so good at this. Can I play with you again? Why aren't you saying anything?"
For a few seconds, he hadn't answered. Then a low voice came through my headphones.
"Which question do you want me to answer first?"
I'd grinned at my screen. Getting his number had taken more persistence, but persistence was one thing I had plenty of.
He hadn't become talkative afterward. Sometimes I'd send an entire conversation's worth of messages and get three words back. But he always answered. Even when I was flirting outrageously. Even when I had nothing to tell him except that I was bored and wanted his attention.
Two weeks later, we were a couple.
After that, I stopped making even a token effort to be restrained. Eight hundred messages a day sounded reasonable to me. If something happened, I told him. If nothing happened, I told him that, too.
He'd never asked me to stop.
I'd thought that meant he liked it.
However, across the dinner table, with no idea I was listening, he'd finally given an answer I hadn't asked for.
I rolled onto my side and pushed the phone away.
But I hadn't even closed my eyes before the screen flared back to life.
A: [I'm home.]
A: [Want to call?]
Usually, I would've called before his second message arrived. Then I'd have kept him talking until after midnight, finding one more thing to say every time we tried to hang up.
But now.
I typed out a reply, feeling completely deflated.
[Don't feel like it.]
I took a shower. When I came back, there were more messages waiting.
A: [Are you upset?]
A: [Is it because I didn't answer right away tonight?]
[Venmo: A paid you 52,000 dollars.
[Venmo: A paid you 13,140 dollars.]
A: [Don't be mad.]
I stared at the transfer notifications. Then an incoming voice call covered the screen.
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