My rich, pretty roommate had a boyfriend who was five-foot-three, weighed 187 pounds, and always had a greasy shine on his face.
She guarded against me at every turn, terrified I had designs on him.
I told her her boyfriend was a pig, and she snapped that I was just calling the grapes sour because I couldn’t have them.
But what she didn’t know was that her boyfriend really was a pig.