Bad Rep (Page 53)

Bad Rep (Bad Rep #1)(53)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

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.