Bad Rep

by A. Meredith Walters

  ~~

  The next two weeks of my life fell into a sad little routine. I went to class, came home. I went to work, came home. I did the one thing I swore I would never do, no matter what happened. I quit my job at Barton's. I just couldn't be around Jordan after everything. I knew I was being a coward but I just didn't have it in me to see him. Because he hadn't tried to contact me since the night of the mixer.

  Not once. No texts, no phone calls. Nothing. Talk about making a gal feel special.

  My life had become an endless source of misery. I knew people were talking about me behind my back. I could see the stares I got when I walked into the commons to eat lunch. The whispers that would suddenly go quiet when I would enter a room.

  Jordan's fraternity brothers were the worst. They leered at me as though they were picturing me naked. And they didn't stop there. One of the guys, a new pledge, came up to me while I was reading my Shakespeare homework on the quad before class.

  I had looked up in surprise as he dropped down beside me on the bench. I didn't even know the guy's name. He smiled at me and I smiled back, unsure what was going on . “You're Maysie Ardin, right?” He had asked, his smile wide. I had frowned, not sure where he was going with this.

  He had put his hand down on my upper thigh, his fingers brushing the edge of my shorts. I moved backwards in shock. “Get your hands off of me,” I had told him angrily, swatting his hand away. The guy had only laughed and pressed toward me again, his hand snaking around my waist and pulling me toward him. I pushed on his chest. “Who the hell do you think you are? Get the fuck away from me right now!” I said as calmly as I was able. I had started to tremble, my anxiety peaking precariously.

  I darted a look around, there were people everywhere. If I screamed, a hundred people would be there to help. The guy leaned toward me and stopped just short of my lips. I clenched my mouth shut, prepared to bite him if he tried to kiss me. He pressed something into my hand and then put his lips by my ear. “I'd like to use this sometime. My name is Derek. I'm over at Olin Hall. Room 312. I want to see what those lips could do for me.”

  Then he had pulled away, got to his feet and walked toward a group of Pi Sigs who were howling with laughter. A few of the guys clapped him on the shoulder. The guy had puffed up his chest and threw a look my way as if to say, you know you want this.

  I had looked down at what he put in my hand and I blanched. It was a condom. A fucking, foil wrapped, ribbed for her pleasure, condom. The Pi Sigs were heading across the quad. I wasn't sure what had possessed me but I had run after them.

  “Hey!” I called out. The douchy pledge had turned around, a look of pure arrogance on his face. As though I were going to blow him right there on the quad. I flicked the condom at him and it hit his chin before falling to the ground. “I'd rather staple it shut than let your tiny penis anywhere near me,” I yelled.

  “Denied by the skank!” One of the guys, who I recognized as Greg, a Pi Sig senior, taunted the pledge. I shrank at the word he used to describe me. Skank. They thought I was a skank. But then I got mad.

  “Skank? Says the guy who pays for fucks.” Greg turned red and he clenched his fists. I laughed harshly. “Yeah, everyone knows about that,” I mocked. The rest of the Pi Sigs were in fits of riotous laughter.

  I turned to the pledge again. “So take your condom and use it to go fuck yourself,” I spat out. Wow, where had that come from? I had been kind of proud of myself. The pledge leaned down to pick the condom up off of the ground.

  Tucking it into his pocket he sneered at me. “As if I'd let my dick anywhere near that. I have standards.” And without another look in my direction, the guys turned and walked away. Leaving me standing in the middle of the quad pissed but completely humiliated.

  I had turned around and ran across the grass. I blew off the rest of my classes that day and gone back to my apartment. I wouldn't leave for another two days. My show of bravado faded as quickly as it had come and I was done with it all.

  I was depressed. Hurting. I stayed away from the Chi Delta house. I stayed away from people in general. I ate my meals at home, avoiding the commons. I didn't hang around after classes like I typically did. I had become a damn pariah. Nobody spoke to me. It was like I had a contagious disease. And as much as I wanted to scream and yell at each and every one of them, I kept my mouth resolutely shut. I convinced myself that doing that would only make things worse. No matter how good it may have made me feel.

  Rinard was a small campus. Only 700 students. It was that reason that I had chosen the college in the first place. I wanted the intimate class sizes and more hands on learning. I wanted to feel that sense of community. Now, I wished nothing more than to be lost in the crowd. Instead of being stuck in a place where everyone knew my business and judged me for it.

  “You need to leave this apartment!” Riley declared one evening. I was on the couch, my normal place of occupancy over the last few days. I scowled at my roommate.

  “I'm perfectly happy right here, thank you very much.” I mumbled, turning my eyes back to the television.

  Riley grunted in disapproval and turned off the TV. “Enough! Go get dressed! Gracie and I are taking you out. She's going to be here in ten minutes, so go get dolled up.” She pulled on my arm, yanking me to my feet. I gave her my best evil glare.

  “Since when do you and Gracie talk? And when do you ever go out together socially?” I asked, annoyed that my evening of sedate nothingness was being foiled.

  Riley pushed me toward my bedroom. “Since we are both sick and tired of your depressed moping. Now, do I need to dress you myself? Because, so help me God, if I have to, I will put you in my black cargo pants and combat boots,” she threatened.

  I shuddered. Those cargo pants should have been burned a long time ago. But I knew Riley meant business. So I put my hands up in defeat. “I'm going, I'm going. Back off killer.” I went into my room and halfheartedly unearthed something semi decent. I emerged from my room five minutes later, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a short sleeved dark green knit top.

  “Do something with that mop on top of your head. Have you even brushed your hair today?” Riley asked.

  “Ugh! Alright, already!” I complained, going into the bathroom. Three critiques later, and I was deemed ready to mingle with normal society.

  Gracie showed up a short time later, looking cute and perky as always. With Gracie on one side and Riley on the other, they shepherded me out to Gracie's Jeep. We made a motley crew. Gracie in her conservative prettiness, Riley looking like a Goth diva in her short black skirt, black top and knee high laced black boots. Then there was me. Well, the less said about that, the better.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as Gracie pulled out of the apartment car lot.

  “We're heading downtown. You need to do some dancing. And some drinking. Time to get your happy on, my friend,” Gracie chirped. I crossed my arms over my chest. I did not feel like dancing. And don't even get me started about putting my happy on (were we in the fourth grade here?). And drinking would just make me more depressed and miserable. I didn't like this plan at all.

  But I didn't say anything. I knew it would be pointless. My two friends were determined and they were a wall of solidarity against me. Bitches.

  We pulled into a downtown dance club called The Boogie Lounge (lame name, I know). It was pretty crowded for a Thursday night.

  “Wow, what's with all the people?” I asked, getting out of the car. Riley shrugged. Her face lit up suddenly and she started waving frantically. Looking over my shoulder I saw Damien and a few of his friends in line to get in the club. I tried to suppress my groan. But I wasn't very successful. Riley gave me a dark look.

  “Just suck it up and have fun, Mays. It won't kill you,” she told me firmly.

  I gave her a sardonic salute. “Aye, aye, Captain,” I bit out sarcastically. Gracie looped her arm through mine and pulled me toward the entrance of the club. We paid our cover and went inside. The place was te
aming with people. We had to do some serious shoving to get to the bar.

  “Go find a table if you can. I'll get the drinks.” Riley whipped out a fake ID and flashed us a smile.

  “Awesome! Get me a cranberry and vodka,” Gracie yelled to her. Riley knew my usual, so she headed off to the bar. Gracie and I were able to find a small table toward the back. Gracie found a napkin and wiped spilled beer off the surface before sitting down. The stage was set up, so that must be the reason for the crowd.

  “I wonder who's playing?” I mused, watching the people start to push toward the front of the room. Riley had just gotten to our table with our drinks when a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Thanks for coming out to see us tonight! We're Generation Rejects!” NO, NO, NO! I could not be here!

  I gripped Gracie's hand tightly. “We have to leave, NOW!” I said desperately. Gracie winced and then pried her hand away from my tight grasp.

  “Now, you can't avoid him forever. We'll just stay here in the back. Jordan will never know we're here,” Gracie reasoned.

  I whipped my head around to look at Riley suspiciously. “Did you know Jordan would be playing here tonight?” Riley looked at me with irritation.

  “Would I do something like that, Mays. Get real.” She sounded miffed that I had even suggested it. I started to say something else when the music began. And just like the first time I saw them play, I couldn't help but watch. They were intense and raw. And Jordan was a demon on the drums.

  I hadn't seen him in weeks and my eyes thirsted for the sight of him. Even after everything, I couldn't stop the crazy pitter patter of my heart as I watched him. His forehead was furrowed as he beat the skins frantically. The tight material of his t-shirt strained over the muscles of his arms and I couldn't help but remember the way they had felt holding me.

  I had tried so hard not to remember any of that night. Particularly the part he played in what went down. The hurt, anger and embarrassment washed over me again and all I wanted to do was leave. But the place was packed and getting out the door would be difficult. Plus Gracie and Riley were boxing me into the corner.

  So I sat there and tried to control the physical response I had to the music reverberating around me. I tried not to look at Jordan and how insanely sexy he was up there. But I loved the music and I loved the sensual beat he added to the mix. He was an amazing musician. Despite everything, I could still admit that.

  They played almost the exact same set as they had that night at Barton's. I braced myself for Jordan's solo. When the song began I looked anywhere but at the stage. If I wouldn't have looked like an immature idiot, I would have put my fingers in my ears to stop the sound of his gravelly voice.

  So, instead I watched the crowd undulate to the band's music. They ate up whatever the band threw at them. It was like watching a religious experience. And on some small level, I gave into it. And it was liberating. To be able to let go of all the negative shit I was feeling and for a moment, just enjoy myself.

  When they were done, I was left feeling bereft. Because then I had to return to feeling like crap again. “Wow, they really are good,” Gracie said, looking a little in awe. I could only nod.

  “Can we go now?” I asked, wanting to get out of there and go back home.

  “Come on, just hang out for a little while longer. I know you want to dance, Maysie,” Riley teased, motioning for Gracie and I to follow her onto the dance floor.

  The techno music had started up now that the band's set was finished and I had to admit, I wanted to get my groove on. So the three of us went and got lost in the throng of moving bodies. I danced until sweat poured down my face and my shirt clung to my skin. Gracie and Riley could dance, but they had nothing on me.

  I rolled my hips to the beat, moving my hands up my sides, scaling my body until they reached above me. I tossed my head back and forth, my hair flying in my face. I was lost in my own little world. Dancing did that for me. I forgot about everyone and everything else.

  After a few songs, I was parched. “I need a drink,” I rasped, tugging on Gracie's hand. Riley and Damien had found each other and were currently clutched together, rocking slowly to the upbeat tempo. There was no interrupting that. Gracie and I, holding each others hand so we wouldn't get separated, made our way to the bar.

  “Hang back over here, I'll get our drinks,” she told me. I went to the end of the bar and waited, my eyes darting around the room. Yes, I was looking for Jordan. But I guess the band had left right after their set.

  Or maybe not.

  “Hey, Mays.” I didn't need to turn around to know who spoke. My entire body lit up and every nerve and synapse responded to those two words.

  “Hey,” I said casually, not looking at him. Jordan was suddenly in front of me and my mouth went even drier. He had no right to look that hot. It pissed me off.

  “You looked good out there,” he said, looking at me with the thousand things unsaid between us.

  “Thanks.” I replied, glancing over his shoulder, as though I'd rather be anywhere but standing there with him. I was very good at lying apparently. Because in truth, there was no where I'd rather be.

  “How've you been?” he asked, pulling my attention back to him. Okay, his question made me mad. How had I been? Really? I felt the chill spread outward from my heart at his callous question.

  “Oh, just fucking peachy,” I snarled, throwing every ounce of hurt and anger at him.

  Jordan frowned. “What the hell, Maysie? It was just a damn question,” he bit back sharply. That was it. I was going to explode. And it wouldn't be pretty. I was saved from committing malicious wounding by Gracie handing me my soda.

  She looked back and forth between Jordan and me, a concerned look on her face. “Um, hey Jordan,” she said, clearly not sure what to make of the dark expressions we both wore.

  “Hey, Gracie,” he said shortly, then continued to look at me. Our eyes never left each other. I was so upset and enraged that I could feel my hands shaking as I clutched my drink. Jordan looked frustrated and confused.

  Finally, he dropped his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I've got to get back to the guys. See you later,” Jordan said, his voice sounding strangely thick. He looked at me one more time but I purposefully glanced away.

  “Woah. What was all that?” she asked, sipping her water. I rolled my eyes.

  “He was asking me how I was,” I answered, slamming my full glass down on the bar, not bothering to finish it.

  “Okay. Well. That was...nice?” Her statement came out more as a question. I started to stalk away.

  “Nice? No, it wasn't fucking nice! He has no right to even ask me that, when my life is in shambles because of him. So screw him and his stupid kissable lips and the fact that he couldn't be bothered to try and talk to me at all. No, he had to go jump back in with Olivia and forget all about me. Just like I knew he would.” I stopped when we got back to our table. I threw myself down in the chair and glowered.

  “But I thought you didn't want to talk to him.” Gracie sounded confused. Not that I blamed her.

  “No, I didn't want to talk to him. I just don't know what I wanted him to do!” I felt those damnable tears again. I had to get home. I was a mess.

  My eyes flitted around the room and found Jordan, again by the bar with a throng of girls around him. His band mates were living it up. Jordan looked less than happy, but that didn't stop a chick with seriously huge tits slide up beside him and curve into his side. He looked down at her as she spoke to him, her fingers trailing up his arm. And he let her touch him. Yep, time to get the fuck out of there before I flew into a demon rage and ran across the room to claw that bitch's eyes out.

  “I need to get out of here. Please, Gracie.” She didn't try to convince me otherwise. She must have seen how close I was to losing it. We went to find Riley who was wrapped around Damien as though they were one freaking person. She started to insist on coming with us but I had simply held up my hand to stop her. I asked Damien t
o make sure she was taken care of and then with a hug to my best friend, Gracie and I left.

  When we got back to the apartment I insisted on Gracie heading on home. It was after midnight and I didn't feel like being around people anymore. “Okay, well as long as you're okay.” Gracie looked at me skeptically.

  “I'll be fine. I'm just going to go inside and put my face mask on and go to bed. I'm exhausted.” I faked a yawn. In truth, I was the farthest thing from tired. I was so keyed up I thought I would blow a gasket. But the last thing I wanted was small talk or my friend's efforts to make me less miserable. As well intentioned as they were.

  Gracie nodded. “Alright, girlie. I'll call you tomorrow and we can get lunch or something.” I gave her a small smile.

  “Sounds great.” I got out and slammed the car door. I waited until she had driven off before making my way into the apartment. Where I was left alone with my bitterness.