Bad Rep
Page 91

 A. Meredith Walters

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And I didn't tell Jordan. I didn't want him to go off on some one-manned vendetta to eradicate all the rumors going around about me. He didn't need the drama. Plus I was embarrassed that people were saying that about me. What if hearing it enough made Jordan think about me differently? Then I felt guilty for even contemplating that.
I wasn't entirely sure if Jordan had heard the rumors. If he had, he never mentioned them.
My mind was strangely full for having woken out of a dead sleep. So I slowly peeled myself away from Jordan, careful not to wake him up and tip toed out of the room. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and headed out onto the balcony.
The air was cool and I wished I had thought to grab a sweater. Propping my feet on the railing, I lit my cigarette and took a deep drag. Everything was silent and I enjoyed the peace. I stared into the trees behind the apartment building. In some ways my life was everything I wanted it to be. I had friends who had my back no matter what. I had a great job. I was doing well in school. And I had a guy who I loved so much it was hard to breathe.
But then there was the flip side to the coin. The nasty ugliness of my reality that made the good stuff hard to remember. Deep down I worried that all of the shit, the horrible rumors, the despicable things people were saying behind my back, and hatefully to my face, would taint what Jordan and I had. What was that saying about if you hear it enough times, you start to believe it as the truth?
It sucked; this insecurity of mine. I had never really suffered from low-self esteem before. I didn't fixate on my flaws, real or imagined. But this whole thing with Olivia and Jordan and been a hard blow. I hated that I had become one of those girls who second guessed herself all the time.
Because no matter how secure I felt in my relationship with Jordan, there was a black stain that threatened to spread over the whole damn thing.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” I looked up, startled, to see Jordan leaning against the open door. He had thrown on a pair of basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt. He was warm and sleepy and smiling at me.
I lifted my cigarette. “Woke up, couldn't go back to sleep. Go on back to bed, baby. I'll be there in a few.” I thought he'd go back to bed, but instead, he came out and closed the sliding door behind him. He sat down in the other chair and watched me as I finished my smoke.
“That shit'll kill you,” he said good-naturedly, playing the reformed non-smoker. He had quit at the end of the summer and was very proud of himself.
“So will listening to you bitch about it,” I volleyed back.
Jordan smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “It's cold out here, Mays.”
“Wimp,” I teased, tossing my butt into the ashtray. I didn't move to stand up, enjoying the quiet of the night and the comfort of Jordan's presence. He looked back over at me and I could hear him clicking his tongue ring over his teeth.
“You looked pretty deep in thought out here,” he observed. I shrugged, tucking my feet underneath me.
“Yeah. I guess I have a lot on my mind,” I replied. I could feel my sleepiness kicking in again. Jordan scooted his chair closer to mine and rubbed his pinky along my arm, causing goosebumps to break out over skin.
“Wanna share?” he asked softly. I tilted my head in his direction.
“I don't know. It's a little early in the day to be delving into my crazy head,” I joked, running my fingers along the side of his face. He captured my hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it gently. He was quiet, not pushing. He was kind of great like that.
“Have you heard the shit people are saying about me, Jordan?” I asked in a hushed whisper. We hadn't really talked about any of this. It was like we tried to keep all of it outside the compact little world we'd created around us. I noticed Jordan tense and it confirmed my earlier suspicions that he was very aware. Aware of all of it.
“Babe, you can't listen to that shit. It'll eat you alive,” he reasoned, gripping my hand tightly in his.
“Easy for you to say, you're not the one they're calling a whore,” I said lightly, trying not to sound as pissed about that as I really was. It was unfair the way I got all of the blame. How easy it was to judge the girl and forget that the guy in the scenario was even involved. Not that I'd ever want people to say about Jordan the malicious crap circulating about me. But still.
Jordan gripped my chin and turned me to face him. “None of this is your fault. If anyone should be called a f**king whore, it should be me. I chased you, pursued you, when I was with someone else. It pisses me off the way people can f**king judge you when they know nothing about what really happened.” His eyes flashed with his anger.
I leaned in and kissed his mouth, loving the way his lips fit perfectly against mine. “Stop it, Jordan. I'm glad you chased me. I've never been so glad to be caught in my entire life,” I murmured as his hands came up to tangle in my hair.
“I hate seeing you upset, Maysie. It guts me. If I thought it would help, I'd beat the shit out of every single one of those ass**les,” he told me, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine.
“Do you ever worry that all of that stuff, that the ugliness will make what we have ugly too?” I asked quietly. I hated to ask it but it's what had been bothering me. It was so easy to say that none of it mattered, that it was me and him against the world. But the truth was, those outside things could mess with the precarious happiness we had built together.
Jordan's hand gripped the back of my neck and he pulled me in close, his lips coming down hard against mine. I gasped at his forcefulness at the same time my body began to react to his passionate assault. He broke away from the intensity of his kiss and his eyes burned into mine. “Don't ever say that, Mays! What we have is too important to be ruined by petty bullshit. So take that crap out of your head right now!” he growled, pulling me into his lap so that I was straddling him. His arms came around me and held me tight against his chest.