Bad Rep (30 page)

“What do you want Milla?  If you want to say something, just say it.” I knew I was setting myself up for it, but at that point, I just didn't care.

Milla moved in closer.  She was quite a bit taller than me and I hated how I had to look up at her.  “I've never liked you, Maysie.  If it were up to me, you'd be kicked out of Chi Delta so fast your head would spin.  But that's not how we do things.  Some of us are classier than that.” I snorted. 

“Classy?  You?” I scoffed, giving her short skirt and revealing shirt a critical once over.  Milla's face darkened. 

“Well, I wasn't the one fucking Olivia's boyfriend behind her back, was I?” I opened my mouth to give a snappy comeback but stopped myself.  What was the point?  I wasn't in the mood for a round of verbal jousting.

“I think you have some nerve prancing all over campus with him like that.  Olivia has been nothing but nice to you.  And this is how you repay her?  By jumping in for her sloppy seconds?”  Milla pushed passed me then stopped and looked back.  “But I guess it's easy to land a guy when you're so willing to lay on your back for him.  You are nothing but a whore and the whole campus knows it.  So enjoy Jordan while you have him.  Because I can guarantee it won't be for long.”  She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and walked off, our two sisters following behind her not bothering to acknowledge me.

I stood there, dumbstruck.  Was that bitch for real?  It didn't take a scientist to see that jealousy motivated everything with Milla.  She reeked of it.  I didn't want to listen to any of the bullshit that came out of her mouth.  I wanted to dismiss her outright.  But the sucky thing was that she was right.  It
was
crappy to walk around with Jordan, blissful in the newness of our relationship while Olivia nursed her wounds over their recent break-up.  It was kind of heartless and more than a little selfish.  And I didn't want to be that girl.  But maybe I had unwittingly already become her.

Chapter Seventeen

The rest of the week went by in agonizing slowness.  Every day I had to walk onto campus knowing I was the talk of the town.  I suppose I could have been flattered that people were so interested in my life.  It would have been great to look at the catastrophic mess in something semi-positive.  But the truth was that the rumors, the whispers, the hateful looks, were like a knife to my gut.  I had gone from being a happy, popular sorority girl, to public enemy #1.  I had known Olivia was well liked but I had a feeling that my descent into villainy had more to do with the public's need for a juicy scandal.  The parts had been given out and I was cast as the conniving slut. 

I sat in my classes, trying to pay attention to my professors' lectures but I all I could hear were the hushed voices swirling around me.  I overheard a couple of girls talking about how I had purposefully gone after Jordan while Olivia was away for the summer.  The words “slut” and “disgusting skank” had been thrown in for good measure and I had immediately stopped listening. 

Jordan wasn't immune to it either.  He had shown up at my apartment for our date looking majorly pissed off.  I had asked him what was wrong but he had only shaken his head, saying it didn't matter.  After some more prodding, I had gotten out of him that there was a “house meeting” with his roommates.  It had gotten ugly.  Nasty things were said (though he wouldn't elaborate what they were) and he had left before anything had been resolved.

I felt horrible.  I hated that I was the source of such dissension in his life.  Jordan wouldn't let me apologize, emphatically telling me I had nothing to be sorry for.  But I
was
sorry.  So, horribly, terribly sorry.

How could we have any sort of meaningful relationship when it was founded on so much drama?  I had asked if we could rain check on going out to dinner and instead suggested ordering in.  Jordan had argued that he wanted to take me out.  That we had nothing to be ashamed of.  I didn't agree.  Now more than ever, I wanted to hide away from it all.

Jordan had eventually caved and we ended up ordering Chinese and watching a movie.  I tried to forget about everything outside of he and I and this great thing we had going on.  I had also come to find that while we were alone, forgetting was surprisingly easy. 

Because we had fun together.  More than that...we just sort of
fit. 
And that made me think that it was definitely worth the heartache.

So, while we ate our cheap Chinese food, Jordan had tried to get me to eat some his spicy pork.  I refused, resulting in Jordan shoving a piece into my mouth while he pinned me to the couch.  Soon a food fight had ensued and by the time we called cease fire, the living room walls were painted with sweet and sour sauce and bits of chicken hung from my hair.  Jordan was trying to lick the remnants of our dinner off of my neck when Riley had walked in with Damien. 

They took one look at Jordan kneeling over top of me on the couch with his mouth sucking on my chin and had turned around and walked right back out.  Jordan and I had started laughing until he pressed his mouth to mine and then there wasn't any more laughing.  Or talking.  Only kissing.  And a lot of touching.

The insatiable physical attraction only grew stronger the more time we spent together.  And it was this need to be with him in every way possible that made our situation all the harder to handle.  Because I wanted to yell from the rooftops that Jordan Levitt was my boyfriend.  I wanted to go out on dates and walk across campus together.   I wanted to take him to mixers and announce to the world that he was mine.

But it still felt like we were each other's dirty little secret.  Because Jordan didn't offer for me to come hang out at the Pi Sig house.  We avoided places where there was a chance of running into Olivia and my Chi Delta sisters (which was pretty much everywhere).  Instead, he came to my apartment in the evening.  We fooled around and he usually fell asleep wrapped around me.  And that was nice.  Just not what I had dreamed it would be like. 

Because Olivia was still a major problem.  She wasn't going away quietly.  And hell if she wasn't bent on making my life miserable.  She was calling Jordan...constantly.  His phone would often beep several times a night.  He was always honest in saying that it was her and never made any effort to respond.  He usually deleted the texts without reading them.  I was dying to see what she had written and I considered snooping.  But we were really working on building trust between us, especially given our shaky start.  And reading his text messages behind his back wouldn't help with the whole honesty thing. 

So, Jordan would eventually turn off his phone, then assure me that it didn't matter.  But it
did
matter.  Because I was insanely jealous.  And worried.  Worried that he'd wake up one morning and say that being with me was a big mistake. 

My insecurities were driving me crazy and Olivia did everything she could to dig my doubts in a little deeper.  She was sneaky, none of her attacks against me were overt.  I had avoided the Chi Delta house for the few days after the chapter meeting.  But Gracie had insisted I come and hang out Wednesday after my last class.  I had put up a bit of a fight but she reasoned that I was still a sister and had every right to be there.

I finally agreed, not wanting to argue about it anymore.  I had gone over to the house and at first it wasn't too bad.  A few of the other girls came and hung out with Gracie and I while we watched re-runs of America's Next Top Model in the common room.  We had laughed together and made cutting commentary as we watched the show. 

Then Olivia had shown up and with one look at the girls, everyone got up and made excuses to leave.  I had no power against Olivia's popularity.  She controlled the house with an iron fist and I had been firmly allocated outsider status. 

I seriously questioned why I was still apart of Chi Delta when it was so obvious I wasn't wanted there.  When I brought this up to Gracie and Vivian, they both staunchly refused to hear what I was saying.  “You are a Chi Delt!  Don't you dare let them make you feel any different!  Olivia is out of here after this year and next year will be all about us!” Gracie argued.  Vivian had nodded adamantly. 

“This will blow over.  I promise you,” Vivian assured me.

That's what they
always
said.  And so far, that day when it would all be behind me, had yet to come.  Though, I never called them on their well-intentioned bullshit.  Because, I didn't think Olivia would just
get over
what had happened.  She and Jordan had been together for three years and I understood her feelings of hurt and betrayal.  And I knew without a doubt that she loved Jordan.  I just wish I could stop feeling like Kelly Taylor splitting up Dylan and Brenda.  Oh crap, I was totally Kelly!  I hated Kelly! 

My own feelings of shame and guilt were burning a hole through my heart.  I was ready to pull my hair out by Saturday night.  I had promised Jordan I'd come to the Generation Rejects gig at Dave's Tavern but I was so anxious I felt like I would come out of my skin.  Riley had agreed to come along so I wouldn't have to go by myself.  Gracie and Vivian were busy doing sisterhood stuff.  Sisterhood stuff that I hadn't been privy to.   Gracie had assured me that it was just planning for the upcoming Ball Blast, the semi-formal Chi Delta hosted every November.  Whatever, I knew I was left out on purpose.

So I found myself in my room, twenty minutes before we had to leave, trying to decide on what to wear.  I was dangerously close to calling Jordan and plead some sort of illness that required me to spend the evening in bed, when Riley knocked on my door.  “Come in,” I called out, throwing a pair of black heels across the room.

“Woah, Babe Ruth, watch it!”  She dodged another pair of shoes that I hurled as she walked in.  I sighed in frustration and sat down on the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest.  “Is that what you're wearing?” Riley asked, indicating my sweat pants and torn t-shirt.  I couldn't help but laugh. 

“Why, you don't think I look hot in this?  I thought I'd try and bring sleep deprived college student back as a legitimate style.  What do ya think?” 

Riley pulled on my ponytail.  “Well, I guess the coffee stains and torn elastic could be considered trashy chic.”  We laughed together. 

“I can't find anything to wear, Riley.  I mean what do you wear to a biker bar?”  Dave's was a pretty rough place to go.  I had heard of numerous stabbings there over the years.  I had never dared to venture to Dave's myself, but I had been told it was pretty hard core. 

“Come on, you've got to have some black leather in there somewhere.”  Riley peered into my closet. 

“Actually...” I got to my feet and dug around in the pile of clothes on the floor and pulled out a short red leather mini skirt that I had gotten for the Chi Delta “Biker Babes Bash” last spring.  Riley gave me a thumbs up. 

“That's more like it!” She enthused.  I found a black halter top with a collar and open sleeves and then pulled out my black ankle boots to finish the ensemble.  Okay, I felt better.  Nothing like a killer outfit to pull me out of my doldrums. 

“Now get dressed, the band goes on in thirty minutes.  There isn't enough time for your marathon primping.  Just hurry up,” Riley told me blandly.  I waved her out of my room and went about making myself look bikerlicious.  When I was done (in record time, I might add), I took in my reflection and had to admit that I looked damn hot.  Hell,
I'd
do me if I could. 

I had put my hair up in a teased ponytail on the top of my head and left some chunky strands around my face.  I did my makeup a little heavier than normal, rimming my eyes in dark liner.  My lips were a deep, but I thought kissable, red.  The tight mini skirt and even tighter top made my body look awesome.  The whole process of getting ready to go out had done wonders for my spirit.  I found I was looking forward to my evening.  Ready to go see my man's band and enjoy hanging out with people who weren't there to judge or look down on me for my choices.

Tonight was supposed to be my first time hanging with Jordan's band mates.  Garrett was having a party at his house after their gig.  Jordan warned that they usually got a little wild.  I hadn't really met the band yet, but Jordan had assured me that they were nothing like his brothers in Pi Sig.  These were a bunch of guys who didn't do the whole college scene.  It was a little weird how Jordan had these two totally different lives.  On one end you have Jordan #1.  Mr. Pi Sig, the most popular guy at Rinard College.  On the other, there was Jordan #2.  The hardcore rocker who played music and went crazy with a bunch of townies.  I wasn't sure what to expect with Jordan #2.  But I was excited to find out.