Bad Rep (31 page)

Riley had promised she'd come too.  That made me feel better.  She and Damien had been attached at the hip lately and I was with Jordan constantly.  Our friendship had its ebbs and flows, but we had never gone this long without spending time together.  I missed her.

We got to Dave's with only ten minutes to spare.   The place was packed.  I had gotten my obligatory underage stamp on my hand.   I intended to wipe it off using the small container of salt I had brought in my bag for such an occasion.  This crowd was quite different than the ones I was used to.  I didn't make it a habit of hanging out in biker bars and as I took in the scary looking dudes and even scarier looking women, I knew why.

Riley pushed her way through the crowd to a table near the back.  Damien had saved us a spot and we sat down, taking it all in.  “Hey ladies.  Lookin' fine as always,” Damien yelled over the noise.  Damien was cute in a math geek with an edge sort of way.  He wore black framed glasses and had messy brown hair that fell nicely over his forehead.  What was most important was the way he looked at my best friend.  I knew love when I saw it and that was what was painted all over both of their faces.  It warmed my heart.

Damien had brought his friend, Adam.  Adam nodded in greeting, but was more interested in nursing his rum and coke than having a conversation, so we left him to it.  “Hey, I'm going to head to the bathroom and try to get this off.” I held up my hand, indicating the huge green 'x' that let everyone and their brother know I was underage.

“You want me to come with?” Riley asked from her perch on Damien's lap. 

“No, I'm cool.  I'll be right back.” I made my way, very slowly, through the heaving crowd.  I was knocked sideways a few times and almost lost my footing.  I was finally able to push my way into the bathroom.  I pulled out the tiny bottle of iodized salt and poured it on the back of my hand. Then I turned on the water and started scrubbing.  These underage stamps used serious ink and this was a little party trick I had learned very early on in my college years. 

I stood there at the sink, rubbing my skin raw in an attempt to get rid of the annoying x when I heard a very familiar voice.  “I think this is the bathroom.”  Olivia's voice filtered in through the door and I hurriedly turned off the tap and bee lined to one of the stalls.  Yuck.  The stall was foul and I had to hold my nose so I wouldn't breathe in the stench. 

I heard the bathroom door open, the commotion of the bar wafting in.  The stalls on either side of me opened and shut and I waited.  What the hell was
she
doing here?  I heard Olivia and at least two other girls leave the stalls and turn on the faucets.  “Are you going to go back and see him before the show?” I recognized Milla's voice.  Great.  The bitches were all here. 

Then I realized what Milla had asked.  There was no question as to who she was referring to.  “No, I'll see him afterwards at Garrett's party.  He said he'd be there.”  I know I made a noise and I clamped down on my lips to stop myself.   Oh god, Jordan had invited Olivia to Garrett's party?  What the hell was going on? 

The girls got quiet and then the water turned off.  “Do you think they'll play your song tonight?” I recognized the voice as Talia's, one of the new pledges. 

“Which one?” Olivia giggled.  I thought I would gag. 

“You know,
the song.
  The one Jordan wrote after you guys...you know...” Milla said suggestively.  I could feel the acid in the back of my throat and I really thought I would lose my dinner.  I could just picture Olivia's dainty little blush at Milla's comment. 

“They always play that song, Milla.  It's Jordan's favorite.”  Olivia's voice became husky, as though she were turned on or something.  What fucking song were they talking about?  Now I had to know, even though I knew when I heard it, I would wish I hadn't.

My reaction was ridiculous, because I knew Olivia and Jordan's history was as deep as it was long.  But the thought of him writing songs about her was too much for my delicate self-esteem.  Without a thought to the massive amount of germs living on the toilet seat, I sat down heavily and waited for them to leave. 

They spent a few more minutes talking about how Jordan apparently wanted to meet up with Olivia at Garrett's party.   Milla was certain he had finally come to his senses and would be throwing that skank (aka, me) to the curb where I belonged.   Olivia gave a non-committal response to that but even I could hear the undisguised hope in her voice.   They spent a few more minutes talking smack about me.  Everything from the clothes I wore to the way I styled my hair.  Apparently I had nothing going for me and the fact that Jordan looked at me at all was a testament to his temporary insanity.  As I sat on that disgusting toilet, I became more and more enraged.  I was sick and tired of being their target.  My blood began to boil and my fists started to clench in my lap.

But it was when they were devising a plan of attack on how to get Olivia and Jordan alone together that I officially had enough.  I sucked in my anger and blanked my face into a picture of calm collection.  Then I left the safe confines of the hepatitis infested stall and walked brazenly to the sink.  The looks passed between Milla and Olivia made it clear that they had been very aware of my presence the whole time.  So I was positive that their conversation had been for my benefit alone.

“Howdy, girls,” I said flippantly, scrubbing at the back of my hand again.  Milla made a noise of revulsion and Olivia looked away.  Talia was the only one who wanted to play the two faced game.  She gave me a smile and I struggled with the urge to smack her.  Particularly after what I had just heard the three of them say.

“Hey, Maysie!  I didn't know you'd be here tonight.”  I pulled my lip gloss from my purse and started to reapply, making eye contact with Olivia in the mirror.

“Yeah, I'm dating one of the guys in the band.” I said pointedly.  Okay, maybe I was being an insensitive bitch, but their cattiness had finally opened the gate to my inner Rocky.  No way was I backing down without a fight.  Talia cocked an eyebrow.

“You are?” she turned to Olivia.  “Didn't you date the drummer?” she asked our president, who looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

Olivia and I were locked in a deadly stare down, neither one of us looking away.  I tuned out Talia's passive aggressive nastiness.  Milla was being suspiciously quiet but I ignored her as well.  I was too focused on the battle of wills being waged in the bathroom mirror.  Olivia purposefully pulled the scooped neck of her dress down to reveal even more cleavage.  She fluffed her hair and rubbed excess lipstick from around her lips.  “If you think you can hang onto a guy like Jordan Levitt, you're more delusional than I thought.”  She turned to face me head on and I stood up as straight as I could.  No way would I back down.

“Oh really?  Then maybe you could explain why I've been the one in his arms each and every night.”  Olivia's eyes narrowed and I could practically see the steam coming from her ears.  She inched forward and I worried for a second that she'd hit me. 

“You are nothing but a man-stealing bitch.  I can't believe we didn't see it when we gave you our bid.” I couldn't help but flinch.  I hated that anyone saw me that way.  There was that huge part of me that wanted to be liked, no matter what.  Scratch below the surface and I was just a girl who cared what people thought of her.  I liked being popular.  I liked being in a sorority full of ready-made friends.  I didn't like knowing that the image I was so proud of had become completely tarnished. 

And the whole thing was more than a little unfair, if you ask me.  Because the way these girls looked at it, I had maliciously and with calculation gone after a sister's boyfriend behind her back.  If Olivia only knew how horrible and guilt ridden I had felt and how much I had resisted.  But there was no point in trying to explain it.  It didn't matter.  She would never believe me.  It was like every Jerry Springer episode I had ever seen.  The “other woman” was always the one at fault. 

I blinked, taken aback by the blatant loathing on Olivia's face.  I didn't want this to hurt so much.  But damned if it didn't.  Olivia put her hand on her hip and leaned into me.  Her lips peeled back from her teeth in a hateful grin. 

“But like it or not, Maysie, Jordan and I have a bond you can never get rid of.  We have a past.  A history.  We have loved each other faithfully for three years.  Sure he's into you now...but where do you think he'll end up when he's grown tired of the Maysie Ardin tramp show?”  She smoothed her hair down, affecting disinterest.  She seemed so calm and collected and I knew she truly believed her words.  She had no doubt that she and Jordan would end up together.  And her conviction started to sway even me. 

She flicked her blue eyes back at me before turning to leave the bathroom.  “He'll always come back to me.  Because that's where he belongs.”  Then without another word, she slung her purse over her shoulder and left the bathroom.  Milla curled her lip in disgust and followed her.  Talia flicked her hair back and gave me a fake smile before leaving.  And I was left standing there, feeling like a complete idiot.

I was mortified that I had sunk to that level.  I had just become “that girl.”  The nasty, tear another chick's hair out, you-were-looking-at-my-man, kind of girl.  I
hated
those girls but damned if I hadn't morphed into one.  Just call up and get me a seat on Maury.  Because that's where I was headed.  So not only had I gone all territorial over a flipping guy, but I had also just rubbed my “sister's” face in the fact that I was currently dating said guy, her very recent ex-boyfriend.  It was like tap dancing on someone's grave.  It wasn't right.  What happened to chicks before dicks?  Oh that's right, Jordan Levitt happened.  Jordan and his beautiful face and his stupid hot tattoo and piercings.  I grumbled at my foolishness.  Then I just became depressed.

I forgot about scrubbing the rest of the stamp off of my hand and headed back to Riley and Damien.  “What took you so long?  I thought one of the bikers had eaten you,” Riley quipped as I sat back down.  I gave her a wane smile and she frowned at me. 

“What's wrong?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.

I opened my mouth to answer her when the lights dimmed and a guy announced Generation Rejects.  The spot lights shown on the stage and Cole grabbed the mic, growling low.  The crowd pushed its way to the front and I could see Milla, Talia and Olivia at the foot of the stage.  I had to admit, Olivia looked hot in her tiny black dress, her hair falling perfectly down her back.  I hadn't really taken stock of her get up while we were shooting eyeball daggers at each other in the bathroom.  But now, looking at her with her perfect little body and effortless beauty, I felt kind of slutty in my outfit.

The band launched into one of their many covers and the place went wild.  I tore my eyes from my sorority sisters at the front of the pack and tried to focus on the four guys on stage.  Because they were good.  Damn good and I couldn't deny the raw magnetism they exuded.  Cole was a looker alright and he played front man with aplomb.  His dark, shaggy hair and five o'clock shadow were sexy as hell.  Mitch and Garrett weren't hard to look at either.  Mitch had the whole dark and mysterious thing going on while Garrett was the wild man of the group, bouncing to the music and wagging his tongue suggestively at the girls in the crowd.  But it was the drummer who maintained the heartbeat of the music.  It was impossible to look anywhere but at him. 

Jordan wore a collared button down white shirt with the sleeves ripped off.  Very Patrick Dempsey in
Can't Buy Me Love
.  Retro and hot.  His face glistened with sweat as he beat the hell out of his drums.  His transformation into rock god was fascinating.  It was so complete and total that it was hard to imagine him as anything else.  It was like he lived and breathed the music he played. 

I allowed myself to get lost in their performance.  I loved seeing Jordan like this.  His passion was evident, even from this distance.  I wanted to push myself forward and dance with the rest of the people here.  But I didn't want to deal with Miss Too Tight Dress and her cronies, so I stayed where I was.  I couldn't stop myself from watching
her
watch
him. 
She obviously knew the set well, singing along to most of the songs.  She looked the part of the rock star's girlfriend, whereas I looked like a child playing dress up in my stupid leather skirt and trying too hard boots. 

About thirty minutes into their set, Cole addressed the crowd.  “Now we'd like to take it down a notch.  This next song was written by the resident sex god himself, Jordan Levitt!”  The crowd roared and my stomach clenched tightly.  I had almost allowed myself to forget the bits of the conversation I had overheard in the bathroom.  The part about the song.  The one Jordan had written for Olivia.  Fuck.