Bad Rep (16 page)

“I am capable of doing my own hair, you know,” I joked as Cira started separating large sections of my dark hair. 

“Just let Cira do it, the girl is a genius,” Gracie said, pulling her own outfit out of one of the bags. 

“Cute,” I commented, looking at Gracie's yellow summer dress that would wrap around her chest.  Cira plugged in the two inch curling iron and I tried not to groan.  I liked wearing my hair straight.  I wasn't one to change up my style too much. I knew I looked good how I was.

But my friends were determined, so I gave in.  “Now hold still, I don't want to burn you,” Cira warned as she started winding chunks of my hair around the hot iron.  The next twenty minutes were punctuated only with Cira's orders for me to move my head this way and that.  After she finished with my hair, she started doing my make-up.  And I had to admit, it was kind of fun to be pampered.  Finally, she declared that she was finished. 

I looked in the mirror and I gaped in surprise.  I didn't even look like me.  My long hair fell in a mass of waves around my shoulders and my make up, while less subtle than I was used to, looked good.  Cira had ringed my eyes in liner, giving them a smoky look that made them stand out.  She had used more coats of mascara than I typically did, but she had made my normally short eyelashes look much longer.

My lips were red and full and kissable, if you asked me.  Not that I planned on kissing anyone, but still.  “Damn, lady.  You clean up nice!” Gracie piped up from behind me.  She had changed into her dress and she looked adorable.  She was in the process of putting her hair in a complicated updo. 

I got to my feet and gave Cira a hug.  “Thanks,” I said sincerely. 

“No, prob.  You look good enough to eat,” she teased, pulling on the hem of my shirt so that my chest popped out even more than it already did. 

My friends finished getting ready and when they were done, it was time to leave.  Riley had returned to her spot on the couch and looked up when we came into the living room.  “You guys look nice,” she said, though I could hear the sarcasm. 

Gracie grinned, obviously not picking up on Riley's lack of sincerity.  “Thanks, Riley.” 

“Let's go.  I'm ready to get my party on,” Cira called out from the front door.  Riley tossed me my keys from the coffee table.  I had offered to be sober sister tonight.  Since all of the girls would be at the party, I didn't have to sit at home waiting for them to call me. 

It was hard not to get excited with Gracie and Cira blasting One Direction and singing as loud as they could.  The girls had started pre-gaming in the apartment while we were getting ready and they were already good and lit. 

We pulled into the driveway of the house Jordan shared with two of his Pi Sig brothers.  It was a good sized two story home, three blocks from campus.  There were people everywhere.  “This is going to be awesome!” Gracie cheered, climbing out of my back seat. 

We made our way up to the front door.  Olivia swung it open and gave each of us a hug.  “More of my sisters!  Yeah!!!”  She hung on my arm as though I could help her stay upright.  Jeesh, I had never realized Olivia was such a sloppy drunk. 

Looking around as we made our way inside, I felt bad for Jordan and his roommates having to clean this up in the morning.  The place was already thrashed.  There was a group of people around the pool table in the living room using it to play beer pong.  Drinks were getting knocked over and the green felt was soaked. 

There were Solo cups everywhere and puddles on the floor from people spilling their drinks.  The couches had been tipped onto their backs and shoved to the wall to make room for dancing.  Gracie pulled on my hand and led me into the kitchen. 

A wave of smoke hit me as I walked in and I could see a couple of guys at a table smoking a joint.  I waved my hand in front of my face and coughed.  It smelled like a skunk.  There were three kegs and a plastic kiddie pool filled with Jungle Juice in the corner. 

I took a beer, just so I'd have something in my hands and waited while Gracie and Cira got their beverages.  “Maysie Ardin, lookin' fine.” I rolled my eyes as I looked over my shoulder at Gio Bovalina , one of Jordan's roommates and the guy Gracie had her eye on.

He was cute in a Guido kind of way with his black hair slicked back off of his forehead and his polo shirt with the popped up collar.  Personally, I didn't see the attraction. I thought he was kind of a sleaze.  He flirted with anything that moved.

And his eyes were currently trained on my chest.  I pointed to my eyes.  “I'm up here, Gio,” I said dryly. 

“Yes you are,” he said in what I guess was meant to be a seductive voice.  He moved in closer to me and I couldn't help but back up. 

“Gio!” Gracie squealed, coming up beside him and looping her arm with his.  She looked between us,  still smiling, unaware that the guy she wanted to hook up with had been seconds from drooling all over my boobs.

“Let's go dance,” she purred and Gio laughed in a self-satisfied way.

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” he put his arm around her shoulders and looked at me again.  “I'll make sure to save you a dance for later.” He raised his eyebrows at me and licked his lips.  Gross. 

Gracie was frowning, clearly a little confused by Gio's blatant interest in me.  “No thanks. I'll pass,” I said, moving away from them.  Gio's response was lost in the din of the crowd as I went into another room.  Watching people I knew getting wasted while they desperately searched for someone to rub against was mildly nauseating.  At what point did parties go from 'hey lets hang out' to 'I'm gonna drink shots from between your boobs?'  Probably around the time that we all discovered the embarrassment inducing effects of alcohol and recreational drugs.

I was normally a partier by nature.  I loved to go out and drink.  It was one of my favorite pasttimes and was what had drawn me to the whole Greek system to begin with.  I'm not going to be one of those assholes and pretend I did it for the philanthropic opportunities.  People that actually spewed that crap were either complete losers or knee deep in serious denial.  Because being Greek was all about the parties.  And the keg stands.  And the ice luges. 

But tonight I stood in the middle of this crazy college level debauchery and I felt a little empty inside.  My eyes followed Olivia as she danced on the coffee table, her skirt barely covering her ass as Pi Sigs leered up at her.  Milla and Tabby were grinding against each other while guys urged them to make out.

Gracie was trying desperately to look sexy as she writhed against a disinterested Gio.  And Jordan's house was getting trashed.  These people really didn't give a shit about the destruction they were unleashing in someone else's home. 

When had I grown a fucking conscience?  It was sort of annoying and making enjoying the party next to impossible.  I found myself a spot in the corner and sat down on one of the chairs that hadn't been upended.  I sipped from my cup, grimacing at the taste of cheap beer. 

A few of my sisters came up and chatted.  I engaged in a rioting debate about the superiority of the thong as opposed to the less sexy boy shorts with several inebriated Pi Sigs.  I even joined in one game of beer pong.  But by midnight I was ready to call it quits and head home.  But I couldn't.  Because I had stupidly volunteered to be the goddamn sober sister. 

I had already made four runs back to the Chi Delta house, threatening bodily harm on my sisters if they threw up in my car (which was finally fixed and road functioning).  I had resumed my spot by the back door, still sipping that god awful beer when my eyes zeroed in on the living room. 

Jordan had walked in and stood there, looking around at the complete and utter chaos that had taken over his house.  He looked tired.  His hair that had started to grow out was sticking up on all sides of his head.  Even from this distance I could see the dark circles under his eyes.  As well as the bulging vein on the side of his neck.  He was pissed.

Not knowing what possessed me, I got up and edged closer to him.  Some sick part of me wanted to witness his detonation.  “Olivia!” I heard him call out.  I could barely hear him over the noise level.  My eyes darted around the room, finally locating our illustrious president as she licked a line of salt from a random Pi Sig's neck and then proceed to take a shot of tequila. 

Jordan stalked toward his girlfriend.  I inched behind him, curious as to what was about to go down.  Olivia was trying to balance a shot glass in her cleavage when Jordan grabbed her by the upper arm and swung her around.  “Jordan!” she shrieked.  In her drunken state it actually sounded more like “Jahhhdunnn.”

Jordan reached down and pulled the shot glass out of her shirt and threw it on the floor.  “Hey,” she pouted but then tried to put her arms around his neck.  Jordan reached up and untangled her hands and put them firmly by her side. 

“I told you to keep it under control.  You fucking promised me, Liv,” he said tiredly.  My heart wrenched for him. 

Olivia rolled her eyes and pressed against him.  “We're having fun.  Don't be such a party pooper.  Now come on and do some shots with me.”  I could see the tip of her tongue glide along his neck and I wanted to punch her in the face.

Jordan stepped away from her.  I wondered if he would go off.  He looked like he wanted to.  But then he just shook his head.  “Enjoy the party,” he told her.  He grabbed a beer from the table and walked away, heading for the stairs.  I watched him disappear around the corner.  I turned back to see what Olivia would do, but she had already forgotten about him.  I watched in disgust as she crawled around on the floor looking for her lost shot glass.

I had had enough.  I put my cup down on the window sill and found myself climbing the stairs to the second level.  I didn't know what the hell I was thinking.  I had been adamant in my resolve to stay away from Jordan. I didn't want to play this game with him while he was involved with someone else.  But after witnessing the fucked up dynamic between he and Olivia, my heart hurt for him. 

I didn't want to find him to hook up or anything.  I kind of just wanted to hang out with him. For a little bit.  As a friend.  If that were possible.

There were four doors in the hallway and I had no idea which one was Jordan's.  So I started opening them.  The first was a bathroom where a girl was puking her guts out in the sink and a guy was passed out in the tub.  I closed that door quickly.

The next was a bedroom and it was currently being used. I caught sight of two girls and a guy naked on the bed before I slammed the door shut.  I might have to bleach my brain when I got home after the shit I had seen go down this evening.

I opened the third door and knew instantly I was in the right place.  A drum kit sat in the corner and a guitar rack hung from the wall above a double bed.  There were a few posters, each of a different band.  I recognized one of my favorites, the Pixies. 

A door to the right opened and Jordan stepped out of an adjoining bathroom.  He looked up and stopped short, seeming surprised.  “Maysie.  What are you doing up here?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light.  A heated look flickered over his face as his swept over my body. 

“You look amazing,” he murmured, his stare searing holes through my body.  I coughed in nervousness and Jordan looked away. I watched him cross to the other side of the room. He picked up one of the guitars off the rack.  He slipped the strap around his neck and sat on the bed as he started to tune it.

“Well, I promised you I'd come,” I said, still looking around his room.  I noticed several framed pictures on his dresser.  Walking over, I picked up one of him and Olivia at some formal.  They looked younger and were smiling at each other in a way that made it obvious they were in love.  I quickly put it down.

“Yes you did.  Glad to see some people keep their promises,” he replied darkly, running his hand down the length of his shiny Ibanez guitar. 

“A little crazy down there, huh?” I asked, watching him.  He started twisting the tuning pegs, while plucking the strings.  Jordan grunted something unintelligible but otherwise didn't comment. 

“I didn't know you played the guitar.”  I said, tentatively pulling up his desk chair and having a seat.  He looked up at me and gave me a halfhearted smile.