Bad Rep

by A. Meredith Walters

  “Hey Jordan!” The girl behind the counter squeaked. Her name tag said Molly and she was batting her pretty little eyelashes at him as he looked at the day's specials.

  “Hey, Molly. How's it going?” he asked her.

  “I'm good.” Molly puffed up at his attention before shooting a strange look my way. Everyone on campus probably knew who he was dating and she was wondering who the hell I was.

  “What are you getting?” Jordan asked.

  “Caramel latte with extra whipped cream, and two of the mini chocolate eclairs, please,” I said, giving him my normal order.

  “Sweet tooth, eh?” he teased. He ordered a black coffee and we stood to the side while we waited for our order.

  “So will Generation Rejects be playing Barton's again anytime soon?” I asked him as we waited. Jordan cocked his eyebrow.

  “Why, have you decided to become one of our groupies?” he asked jokingly.

  I huffed. “No way. I don't do the groupie thing. I was just wondering because you guys are sort of entertaining.” I told him coyly, shooting him a small grin.

  “Sort of entertaining? You're breaking my heart, Maysie.” He clutched his chest dramatically. I smacked his arm.

  “Here you go, Jordan.” Molly appeared suddenly, handing him our drinks while I took my plate of pastries. The girl shot me another look, this one not at all friendly, before turning to the next customer.

  “I think she likes you,” I said as we made our way to a booth near the back.

  Jordan rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Molly is in my poly sci class, she's just being nice.” He dismissed my statement. I slid into the booth and sipped on my latte.

  “Are you blind, Jordan, or just oblivious?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “Uh, neither,” he replied, looking at me over the lip of his mug.

  I laughed but it came out as a snort. “Okay. You just choose not to acknowledge when girls practically fall all over you.” My lips quirked in a smile.

  “If that were true, I wouldn't feel as though I were chasing you all the time,” he murmured, taking a sip of his coffee. I choked on the eclair I had just taken a bite of. Was he being serious? I had no idea how to respond.

  The air was thick with the sexual tension between us. I tapped my fingers on the table. “So, tell me why are you so done with Pi Sig? I thought you were Mr. Fraternity,” I asked, trying to refocus the conversation on something with less potential for an explosion.

  Jordan cleared his throat. “I used to be. I mean, I like the guys alright. But I get sick of the backhanded bullshit that goes on. Do you know what I'm talking about? I mean, you've got to see it over there with the Chi Delts,” he said.

  I nodded, understanding him exactly. “Yeah, it's kind of like swimming with sharks at times. I worry they're going to take off my foot if I don't toe the line,” I joked.

  Jordan frowned at me. “Well, why do it then? You don't seem like you belong with Olivia's herd.” I didn't know if I should be insulted or not.

  What was he trying to say?

  “Well, I wanted to make some new friends. So I figured why not. And I like the girls in Chi Delta. Most of them are really nice,” I said defensively. The truth was, I got what he was saying and I wondered how I would survive in the dog eat dog environment the school's Greek system bred. You had to fit the mold or get out. Which was so against everything I had always stood for. But now, I was doing nothing but spending my energies on trying to fit in.

  “Well, I guess that's what's important,” Jordan mused, looking as if he didn't believe me. His attitude was making me a little angry. Nothing pissed me off more than when people questioned my choices. It made me feel inferior and insignificant. As though I were incapable of making a reasonable decision.

  “What does Olivia have to say about you stepping down as president?” I asked sharply. Jordan's face darkened a bit.

  “She doesn't know,” he said, taking another drink of his coffee.

  “She doesn't know? You didn't tell her you were going to do it?” I scoffed, not believing he could keep something like that from his girlfriend.

  It was Jordan's turn to get defensive. “Yeah, well, Olivia has her own shit going on. I knew she'd freak out if I told her, so I just did it. I don't need to hear about how stupid I am for giving it up,” he said bitterly.

  I couldn't cover up my surprise. Jordan met my eyes. “I told you before that things have been strained with Olivia and me,” he said quietly, reminding me of our disastrous conversation after he had asked me out and I had discovered he was taken.

  This time, I didn't want to shut down the conversation because of my fears. I wanted to hear from him what was going on. “What do you mean?” I asked, moving my empty coffee mug to the edge of the table and taking another bite of an eclair. Jordan leaned back in the booth with a sigh.

  “Have you ever been close to someone for a while and then realized that the two of you had absolutely nothing in common?” he asked me. I shook my head.

  “No, not really. What are you getting at?” I asked him pointedly.

  Jordan sat up and crossed his arms on the table. “I started dating Olivia when we were freshmen. We met the second week of school. She was a different person back then. Over the years I've realized we want different things. I mean, I care about her. But I just don't think we fit in each other's lives anymore.” His words left me raw. Was he saying that he planned to break up with Olivia, even before he asked me out?

  So where did I fit into all this? I really wanted to know, but I was too much of a chicken to come out and ask that. “Does Olivia know you feel this way?” I asked, feeling a little sorry for my sorority sister. Because I knew she loved Jordan. You could tell that when she talked about him. But I had also seen the way she so easily disregarded his feelings. I understood what Jordan was saying about them being two different people. Because while they may look like they belonged together, personality wise they just didn't fit.

  Jordan looked frustrated. “I don't know. I mean, it's not like we talk about anything that isn't Greek related.” He shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. “Enough about my Olivia drama. How are classes going?” I was thrown by the sudden change in topic, but I allowed it. I didn't want to focus on Olivia any more than he did.

  We spent the next twenty minutes talking about school. Jordan revealed that he still had no idea what he wanted to do when he graduated. He was an Accounting major, mostly because his dad wanted him to become a CPA, like he was, and partner with him at his accounting firm. I could not see Jordan as an accountant. Didn't they wear glasses and buttoned collared shirts with Chinos? How could his dad even begin to think that would be a suitable career path for Jordan? I had known the guy for all of two minutes yet I knew unequivocally that he was meant to do a hell of a lot more with his life than crunching numbers.

  Jordan explained that his mom owned her own chocolate shop and imported sweets from all over the world. He spoke warmly of his mom and I knew that even though his feelings for his father were strained, his mother was his rock.

  He talked about staying in town after he graduated and playing with Generation Rejects. That seemed to be where his passion lay. His face lit up when he talked about playing shows and his dream of making music for a living.

  “My dad would never go for it though. I've been told enough times, by a lot of people, that I need to concentrate on making a proper living and not put my energies into something that will never happen.” He sounded sad and I couldn't help myself from reaching over and putting my hand on his. Jordan turned his hand so that he pressed his palm against mine and laced our fingers together. It felt right. As though our hands were meant to hold each other.

  “Are you an only child? Or do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked. Jordan shook his head.

  “Nope, just me. So I am the lone recipient of my dad's disappointment.” He let out a frustrated breath. I squeezed his hand before pulling away.

  “The
only child club kind of sucks sometimes, huh?” I asked lightly. Jordan cocked his head to the side.

  “You too?” he asked. I took another bite of my eclair.

  “Present and counted for. My parents were older when they had me. My mom was forty-two, my dad almost fifty. They didn't think they'd be able to have any kids. So when I happened, I became their sole focus. Their last ditch effort at realizing their dreams.” I admitted harshly.

  Jordan's eyes didn't hold an ounce of judgment and he looked at me as if he got what I was saying. “My dad is this uber successful guy, you know? He has this amazing career that he worked his whole life to have. He came from nothing and he thinks I'm throwing away all of the opportunities he never had. He calls me a fuck up because I'd rather play drums than stare at math problems all day.” Jordan said, sounding unhappy. I understood exactly where he was coming from.

  My whole life I had tried so hard to be someone my parents could be proud of. I could never be enough or do enough to make them happy. My dad hated the fact that I was in a sorority and that's why he refused to help pay the dues. My mom, while she loved the thought of me finally being popular, sided with my dad in thinking it was a foolish waste of time. They never failed to let me know that they thought I should be 100 percent focused on school. My dad was a teacher and my mom was a nurse. They were totally dedicated to what they did. So having a daughter who sort of flew halfcocked through life wasn't their ideal.

  “Disappointing your parents sucks.” I said softly. Jordan's eyes sparkled at me and I felt we connected in that moment.

  “It sure does,” he agreed quietly, staring into my eyes intently before I finally had to look away.

  I cleared my throat, trying to dispel whatever was building between us. I gripped my hands tightly together, staring down at the table top. “You know, I say do what you want. You have to do what makes you happy,” I said.

  Jordan smiled. “That's what I'm trying to do,” he said quietly and I had a feeling he was talking about more than just his music.

  My phone started vibrating in my pocket, the sound of Blue Oyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper, blaring.

  “Love the ring tone,” Jordan said smiling as I pulled out my phone. I looked down and saw that it was Gracie.

  “Hello?” I had an overwhelming urge to throttle Gracie for interrupting such a great moment.

  “Where the hell are you?” she yelled into the phone.

  “Whoa, calm down. What's up?” I asked, shooting Jordan an apologetic smile.

  “The rush event starts in two hours and Vivian is freaking out. Nothing is set up and the costumes are a mess. You've got to get to the house right now.”

  I sighed. “I'm on my way,” I assured her and hung up.

  I tucked my phone away and got up. “Sorority crisis?” Jordan asked.

  “As always,” I deadpanned, grabbing my purse. We left the coffee shop and headed to our respective vehicles. “Thanks for the coffee. I enjoyed hanging out,” I told him sincerely. Jordan leaned against his motorcycle, balancing the helmet against his thighs.

  “Me too. It feels like it took too long to get here. I hate that things have been weird between us. I never wanted that,” he said a little sadly.

  “Me either,” I admitted, feeling that magnetic pull between us intensify. My phone buzzed in my pocket again and I pulled it out. I didn't bother to read the text that Gracie had just sent. “I've gotta go. Duty calls. I guess I'll see you on Saturday?” I asked, before getting into my car.

  “Yep. See ya Saturday,” he called back, throwing his leg over the seat of his motorcycle and revving it up. He gave me a final wave before taking off down the street and I headed toward the Chi Delta house and two hours of drama.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rush week was a raging success. We had sent out eight bids and each girl had accepted. I finally, after months, felt like I belonged with my sisters. It felt good to help contribute to something that benefited the sisterhood. Most of the girls had made it a point to tell Vivian and I how great of a job we had done. The skit was fantastic and it had all fallen into place. Even with the massive amounts of anxiety and stressing. I had even received a call from my Big Sis in Chi Delta, Caryn, who had graduated last year and now lived in California. She wanted to congratulate me on completing my first rush week as co-chair. So all in all, I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself.

  And seriously exhausted. By Saturday afternoon I was ready to drop. But my day was far from over. I had just gotten back to my apartment after being at the house all morning for Bid's Day activities. The new girls had been excited and their enthusiasm reminded me of why I had joined Chi Delta in the first place. I hated to admit that I had started doubting my reasons for signing on with a sorority. But today reaffirmed that these girls were my friends and I belonged.

  “You look wrecked, my friend,” Riley said from my doorway. She was dressed for her shift at Barton's. I hadn't seen much of her since school started. Partly because I was so consumed with all things rush and partly because Riley was spending every free minute with Damien.

  “I wish I could just lay down and take a nap,” I groaned, throwing my shoes out of my closet trying to find the pair I wanted to wear tonight.

  “You're going to burn out if you don't take it easy once in awhile,” Riley warned, dropping to her knees beside me and pulling out the other wedged sandal I was looking for.

  “Thanks,” I told her, taking the shoe from her hand. Riley sat cross legged on my floor as I got to my feet and started getting my outfit together.

  “So what's on your epic social calendar for the evening?” Riley asked.

  “It's the Pi Sig mixer. I have to be back at the house around 7 to pre-game,” I muttered, focusing on my search for a set of earrings. “Agg! I feel like I'm losing my mind! Where are my silver star earrings? I can't find anything!” I cried, throwing my hands into the air.

  Riley got to her feet and gently pushed me out of the way as she started to root through my jewelry box. “Go sit down, you need a breather. I'll find them.” I took her advice and lay down on my bed.

  “Here they are, loser.” Riley tossed me the earrings and they landed on my chest.

  “I'm a mess! What would I do without you?” I asked tiredly, my eyelids drooping heavily.

  “Not be able to find your earrings?” Riley asked and we both laughed. I patted the bed beside me and Riley came and sat down.

  “How are things with Damien?” I asked her, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. Riley blushed. Dear god, she must have it bad if she was actually getting red at the sound of his name.

  “Good. After work tonight, he's taking me to the midnight showing of that comic book movie I wanted to see that you refuse to go to.” I pushed her arm.

  “Sorry if I can't sit through two hours of guys in really tight spandex talking about their crystal of power or whatever.” Riley widened her eyes.

  “You just don't get its complexity,” she intoned dramatically. I chuckled.

  “Sure, that's it. So, Damien's taking you out on a date. Things seem to be moving along nicely,” I said. Riley smiled softly.

  “Yeah, he's pretty great. You know, he has a few cute friends if you want me to hook you up,” Riley joked. She knew how I felt about blind dates.

  I made a rude noise. “I'll try internet dating first, thanks. Besides, I'm not looking, remember,” I reminded her. Riley looked at me knowingly.

  “Well you're not looking if that guy isn't Jordan Levitt,” she said. I smacked her with a pillow and she laughed. “You know, he talks about you a lot,” she said suddenly.

  I sat up on my bed. “Jordan talks about me?” I asked dumbly. Riley rolled her eyes.

  “No, the pope talks about you...yes Jordan!” My throat felt tight.

  “What does he say?” I shouldn't want to know this. I knew better than to ask. But damned if I didn't want to hear every tiny detail.

  “He makes every excuse to mention you in some way. '
Oh, Maysie must have rearranged the salt shakers.' 'I wonder if Maysie knows where the phone book is.' It's almost pathetic.” I forced myself to laugh, though I really felt like throwing up. “Yesterday, he was telling me about how he taught you to play the guitar at his party. He said you're a natural.” It was my turn to roll my eyes.

  “He clearly has a different memory of that than I do. I sucked.” Riley shrugged.

  “Hell, you could probably sound like a dying cat and he'd think you were amazing,” she teased. I shot her a look.

  “What's that supposed to mean?” I asked. Riley picked up the pillow I had thrown at her and hit me in the face with it.