Bad Rep
Page 90

 A. Meredith Walters

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So herein lays the crux of the problem. Why didn't I just withdrawal? Why did I continue to subject myself to such pettiness? It seemed like a form of torture. And there were many days that I wondered this myself. At night when I'd lie in bed, with Jordan's warm body pressed against me, I'd think up the grand speeches I would give, announcing my formal withdraw from Chi Delta.
I had it all planned out in my head. I'd tell Olivia and Milla exactly where they could stuff their snotty little noses. I would look at the rest of them and call them a bunch of bitchy hypocrites. But then I'd wake up in the morning and swear to myself that I'd give it just one more day. One more day to see if things would be better. One more day to make things right again.
But as long as Jordan and I were together, that wouldn't happen. And I was torn between this fantastic new love I had found and my longing to return to the fold. The need to belong was strong in me and hard to quash. I knew in my psychobabble way, that this was firmly rooted in me wanting my parent's approval. It had simply morphed into all areas of my life. The constant worry about what other people thought was exhausting and I wished like hell I could just let it go. Riley thought I was an idiot and wasted no time in telling me that on a daily basis. And I understood why she thought that. Hell, most days, I thought that. But I had pride and it burned pretty damn bright.
So I stuck it out. Even as my life seemed to get uglier. Because the rumors were getting crazy. Last week, in my Shakespeare and Chaucer class, we were assigned groups to work on a comparative project between Canterbury Tales and Shakespeare's story telling in his tragedies. I was grouped with two girls, Cyndy and Aimee, who had lived on my floor freshman year and a guy named Charlie, who was a year below us. I knew their names, but knew nothing else about them. They weren't people I saw out and about in my normal, everyday routine.
But they knew me. Or knew of me. I saw it instantly when I pulled my desk closer to theirs to begin our work. It was in the curl of Aimee's upper lip when I sat down. It was in the look of barely concealed disdain in Cyndy's eyes before she flicked them back to her book. And f**k if it wasn't there in the openly lascivious look Charlie tossed casually my way.
“Hey, Maysie,” Aimee had said. And the way she said my name made me feel like I had some sort of disease. She and Cyndy had shared a look and Cyndy covered her mouth to hide a mocking grin.
I had gotten pissed. I was sick to death of this shit. So I had slammed my book shut and looked at each of my group members. “Is there a problem?” I had asked. Charlie had looked startled and gave a mumbled, “no” before looking away. Cyndy and Aimee weren't as embarrassed by their behavior. Both were decent looking girls, but in a bookish kind of way. Definitely not sorority material. No, they were the girls, with their above average IQs, who looked down their noses and acted like anyone in the Greek system were barely functioning morons.
“Yeah, I guess there is a problem,” Cyndy began and I gave her my best bitchy look of indifference.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, trying really hard to act like I didn't give a crap about their opinions when deep down I was dying. Aimee snickered.
“I mean, can you be counted on to pull your weight or will it be interfering with your 'extracurricular' activities?” The bitch had the nerve to use f**king air quotes.
“I'm sure I can fit you into my busy sorority schedule if that's what you're asking,” I answered snidely. Cyndy's eyes had gone wide in feigned surprise.
“Oh no, that's not what we were referring to.” Huh? The two girls looked at each other again.
“What?” I snapped, losing all patience with this entire conversation.
“We mean your other activities. You know. Your fraternity obligations,” Aimee said and snickered outright. I looked at Charlie who had his mouth hanging open and was staring at me. What the hell?
Charlie sat up straighter. “I'm pledging Kappa Tau. Just so you know.” It seemed really important for him to tell me this. What was going on here? Aimee leaned forward and dropped her voice into a whisper.
“We've heard you're part of the fraternity initiations. I've heard it's called, pass the slut. The guys say you're the best there is.” Her lip curled again and she sniffed as though she smelled something foul.
I felt sick. My hands went clammy and I know my face had gone pale. “What?” I whispered, my voice gone. Charlie was practically fidgeting in his seat.
“We all know about you, Maysie. I hope I get to see you around the house soon. You know we're having a party this weekend. Maybe you could come,” Charlie said eagerly. I looked from Cyndy and Aimee's disgusted expressions to Charlie's hopeful lustful one and I couldn't take it anymore. My snappy comebacks and snarky attitude were all dried up. I had nothing to say in the face of that. The fact that these three people, who I didn't know, had heard these horrible things about me, made me want to head straight for Timbuktu, or somewhere equally cut off from all civilization.
So, I had grabbed my books and my bag and got up. I fled the classroom. Yep, I ran. Like I said before, it's what I do best. I was shaken by the whole thing. I knew people were talking about me. That I was the one labeled the whore because of what went down with Jordan. What I hadn't realized was the way it had grown into something else. Now, not only was I home wrecking bitch, but I was practically a prostitute being passed around by every fraternity on campus.
Where had the story come from? Even as I had thought it, I knew. Milla and Olivia. Where else? But I didn't have proof so there was no sense in confronting them. So I had gone home, waited for Riley and cried on her shoulder. The poor girl's clothes had been drenched in my tears on more than one occasion recently.