Room For Rent

(Through years of extensive research with roommates who annoyed me or were annoyed by me, I feel I have a real grasp of the subject of what can ruin a roommate relationsip. A random thought tied with that one brought forth this tale. Sadly, I couldn’t decide exactly how it should end. Three options presented themselves, so I decided to treat this like the Choose Your Own Adventure books I enjoyed as a child. Which ending is your favorite?)

A soft knock on the door interrupts my train of thought. I close my notebook, sliding it underneath the couch. I glance around the room one last time before stepping toward the door. Reassured, I step toward the door as another impatient knock resounds through the room. Taking one last deep breath, I swing the door open to reveal my potential roommate.

Tight-fitting black jeans hug her hips. Her babydoll t-shirt, which barely meets the top of her jeans, features a silhouette of a woman frozen in a graceful dance pose. Long blond hair hangs in soft waves on either side of her slender face. Her grey-blue eyes return my inquisitive look. Finally, she offers a nervous smile and an extended hand.

“Hello. My name is Janice. I’m here about the room.” Her voice sweetens the air between us.

I feel my own anxiety begin to fade away. “I’m Ellen. Please come in.”

As I step back, she breezes past me into the room. Her eyes rove over the tiny living room, taking in the couch and television stand. She shrugs her shoulders a little and sits on the couch, bouncing once before settling in and kicking off her shimmering, silver ballet flats. She pats the seat beside her and I sit stiffly beside her.

I open my mouth to speak, but she gets her question out first. “Is it okay if I ask about a few things?”

I nod my head, and she begins addressing shared concerns. I answer most of her questions with very little thought. One does leave me stymied. I continue to gaze at her in confusion as she awaits an answer.

With a sigh, she repeats it. “Do you prefer over or under?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I wet my lips worriedly as a couple of possible meanings involving bets and bunk beds cross my mind.

“Your toilet paper? Does the loose end go over or under the roll when you put it back on the holder?” 

She says each word slowly and clearly, explaining to a child.

My face scrunches up as I try to remember. “Over?”

***Choose how the story ends.***

A. Over? Read the underlined text below.

B. Says over but means under and Janice checks. Read the italicized text below.

C. Says over but means under but Janice believes her. Read the bold text below.

POSSIBLE ENDING A

“Good.” She flashes me her winning smile again. “When can I move in?”

“The new lease is effective tomorrow, so…”

“Excellent. Thank you so much.” She envelopes me in a hug and leaves, closing the door softly.

I stare after her in surprise. With a shrug, I walk toward the bedroom that will be hers. Opening the door, I realize she didn’t see either bedroom or the bathroom. I hope that doesn’t prove to be a problem.

The next day finds me helping her and a few of her friends lug boxes up the two flights of stairs to our apartment. Realizing that the over under question could influence our life as roommates, I always remember to make sure the end of the toilet paper always flows over the top.

POSSIBLE ENDING B

She shakes her head, obviously recognizing the uncertainty in my voice. “Let’s go see.”

Janice stands up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet before taking a few steps toward the narrow hallway. With a glance back at me, she enters the open door to the right. I step toward her as she flips on the light and makes a quick assessment of the room. The frown on her face reveals that I answered incorrectly.

“This won’t do. Thank you for your time.”

She pushes past me, denying me the right to respond. I still stand in the doorway with my eyes riveted to the offending roll of toilet paper as the door slams behind her. I shake my head at the tail poking out from under the roll.

“Guess I still have interviews to make.” I sigh.

POSSIBLE ENDING C

“Good.” She flashes me her winning smile again. “When can I move in?”

“The new lease is effective tomorrow, so…”

“Excellent. Thank you so much.” She envelopes me in a hug and leaves, closing the door softly.

I gaze after her in surprise. With a shrug, I walk toward the bedroom that will be hers. Opening the door, I realize she didn’t see either bedroom or the bathroom. I hope that doesn’t prove to be a problem.

The next day finds me helping her and a few of her friends lug boxes up the two flights of stairs to our apartment. She bubbles over with excitement at the light pouring through the window and the size of the closet. When she has everything set up to her liking, she takes me out to dinner to celebrate. By the time we get home, yawns break up our conversation until we slip into our bedrooms to seek sleep.

Something pulls me roughly from sleep. The bathroom door slams and mine opens. A blurred silhouette crosses the room. A harsh voice breaks through the nighttime peace, pulling me further into the waking world.

“You lied to me.”

I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes as I look up at Janice’s distorted face. Surely, her lips could not contort in such rage. As I blink away the last remnants of sleep, she joins me on the bed, straddling me so that I can’t move.

“What’s wrong?” My question comes out in a hoarse, breathless whisper.

“I was just in the bathroom, and you know what I saw?”

I shake my head as she leans closer, forcing the rest of the air from my lungs. “It was under. You said over, but it was under.”

“I…” Words fail me.

She growls deep in her throat, releasing me from the death grip of her legs. As she storms out of the room, the door slams closed. I lie transfixed in my bed, afraid to move. My own breathing seems too loud in the darkness of my room. I don’t remember falling asleep.

I wake up to the same heart hammering fear that preceded my second attempt at sleep. I listen for sounds of an impending attack. After a couple of minutes of silence, I slowly creep out of bed. I sneak across the room to press my ear to the door until I am satisfied that no one stirs on the other side. I shudder as the door squeals.

The door to the other bedroom stands ajar. Relief washes over me as I push the door open and step into an empty room.