Bad Rep (39 page)

Read Bad Rep Online

Authors: A. Meredith Walters

 

My parents looked horrified when he stopped at our table.  I glanced from my parents to Jordan.  He gave them a dazzling smile and held out his hand to my father.  “Hello, Mr. Ardin. I'm Jordan Levitt, Maysie's boyfriend.”  Maysie's boyfriend.  We had never exactly established what we were.  I mean, I knew we were dating, but I had never dared ask him outright if we were a
couple
couple.  Hearing him say he was my boyfriend caused my lips to stretch into the biggest grin I could muster. 

 

My dad looked at Jordan's hand, outstretched in front of him.  Then he looked up at my boyfriend.  I saw my father taking in the eyebrow ring and the buzzed head.  The leather jacket and motorcycle helmet and realizing his daughter was dating every single thing he hated. 

 

But manners won out and my father shook Jordan's hand.  Jordan turned his attention to my mother, who was still reeling from the shock that
this
was her Maysie's boyfriend.  Jordan gave me a troubled look before sliding into the booth beside me. 

 

He rested his hand on my thigh and gave me a comforting squeeze.  It was all going to be okay.  Jordan was here. 

 

Things were awkward.  We put in our orders with the waitress and got our drinks.  I waited on pins and needles, wondering when my dad would start grilling Jordan.  I could tell Jordan was uncomfortable but he was trying really hard to carry a conversation with my parents.  And I loved him for his efforts.

 

“So, Jordan.  What are you studying in school?” my dad asked, taking a long drink of his water while watching him over the rim of his glass.  The rest of us were just starting to dig into the food that had just arrived.  I was poised to take a bite of my chicken Caesar salad, but immediately lost my appetite when I realized the interrogation had commenced. 

 

Jordan took a bite of his burger and wiped his mouth.  “Accounting, sir,” he replied.  His answer seemed to shock the hell out of my dad.  His eyes widened marginally. 

 

“Accounting.  Really?  That's a respectable career path,” my father acknowledged grudgingly. 

 

Ha, take that Dad!
I wanted to shout. 
That's what you get for making your hateful assumptions.
  I tried not to smirk.  “Yeah, my dad has his own accounting firm up near the city and he'd really like me to come on as a partner after I graduate.”  My dad was even more impressed by this.  But I could hear the mostly concealed wistfulness in Jordan's voice. 

 

“That sounds wonderful, doesn't it Dan?  It's nice to see Maysie spending time with someone who has such wonderful life goals,” my mother piped in, seeming relieved that this tatted up bad boy was actually a worthwhile human being.  As though becoming an accountant made you a productive member of society or something. 

 

I started to relax, thinking this wouldn't be so bad when Jordan spoke again.  “But what I'd really like to do is play music,” he said.  My dad, who was actually looking...not happy, but something less than brutally disappointed, frowned. 

 

“Play music?  Whatever for?” he scoffed as though that were the most ridiculous notion he had ever heard.  My mom gave a nervous giggle.  Jordan stiffened a bit and I gripped his hand under the table, trying to tell him through my fingers to give it up.  This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with my dad.  Not when things were actually going kind of well.

 

“I play drums in a band and I love it.  I think it would be fantastic to do that for a living.  To devote my time to something I'm passionate about, not just crunching numbers to help rich people get richer,” Jordan said. 

 

And there it was again.  My dad's disapproval.  Oh how I missed you. 

 

“Well, the likelihood of making any sort of living as a musician is highly unlikely.  And what kind of life does that build for you and your future family?  What kind of person willingly brings their children into contact with drugs and sex?” my father spat out.  God, he sounded like an idiot.  An ignorant idiot at that. 

 

Jordan started dragging his tongue ring across his bottom teeth.  He was pissed but trying really hard to rein it in.  I closed my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else.  “You know, Jordan's mom runs her own chocolate shop.  Mom, you love chocolate.  Isn't that cool?” I broke in desperately.  My dad and Jordan were engaged in some weird macho stare off and I had to stop this before it got really bad.

 

My mom was equally as nervous so she made a show of being impressed with Mrs. Levitt's shop.  She asked Jordan a million questions about the types of chocolates his mother imported.  Jordan answered every question patiently and respectfully. 

 

“What time do we have to be at that sorority of yours?” my father asked, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.  God, would he ever stop? 

 

“Uh, 6:00, I think,” I told him.  My father clicked his tongue.

 

“I'm not sure why you bother with all of that sorority nonsense.  The Greek system is a ridiculous waste of time, wouldn't you agree, Jordan?”  My father directed his question at my silent boyfriend.  This was a test.  And from his set jaw, I knew Jordan was about to fail miserably.

 

Jordan took a drink of his soda and looked my dad in the eye.  “Actually, sir.  I'm in a fraternity myself.  And while I think a lot of the Greek system can be a bit over the top, you can't deny the sense of community that comes with being in a sorority or fraternity,” he said evenly.  Okay, I knew that was just to goad my dad, because Jordan had told me on more than one occasion that he had come to detest the Greek system. 

 

“You're in a fraternity?  Oh, well that's interesting,” my mother offered.  I thought my dad would keep up about the whole sorority thing, but thankfully, he let it rest.  But that didn't mean he was finished with me.

 

Our dessert had just been served when my dad went in for the kill.  “We got your last check in the mail a few days ago.  I'm not sure how you think you're going to pay off that credit card bill with the paltry amounts you're sending us.  I can tell you one thing, young lady, we will not be bailing you out of this mess.  We've bailed you out of enough in your life, and we refuse to do it anymore,” he said curtly.  Bailed me out of what?  I had always been a model kid.  Hell, I wasn't given a choice.  My father was seriously deluded. 

 

My face flamed red. I was embarrassed that Jordan had to witness this abject humiliation.  I hung my head as though I were five years old again.  I hated that I wasn't able to stand up for myself with him.  But it was like he zapped any spine I had right out of me.

 

Jordan lifted our interlaced hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my knuckles.  I blinked in shock at his overt display of affection in front of my parents.  He put my hand back in my lap and crumbled up his napkin and put it on the table. 

 

“Mr. Ardin, sir, I think you're being entirely unfair.  Maysie works her ass off, at the same time she's in a sorority and has a full work load.  She does ten times more than most college students.  I think you need to recognize what she
has
done instead of telling her what she hasn't,” Jordan's voice was clipped and angry.

 

My mouth fell open.  So did my mom's.  But my dad clenched his teeth and straightened his shoulders.  “Excuse me, young man.  But who are you to tell me what I can say to my own daughter?  And how dare you talk to me with so little respect!” my father hissed out. 

 

Jordan looked down at me and his eyes softened.  “You want to know who I am?  I'm the guy who's crazy about your daughter.  And when you can talk to Maysie with respect, then maybe you'll earn mine.”  He leaned over and kissed me gently on the mouth.  “I'm sorry, baby,” he whispered before getting to his feet. 

 

“Mr. Ardin, I apologize that this didn't go as well as it could have.  But I hope next time I see you, we can spend the time talking about how amazing your daughter is rather than tearing her down.”  His eyes bore into my father's and not once did he back down.  Damn, I loved him.  He turned to my mother.  “Mrs. Ardin, it was a pleasure.”  Looking at me again, he smiled.  “I'll call you later,” he said quietly.  Then he picked up his helmet from under the table and left.

 

When Jordan was gone, my father sputtered and fumed.  He went on and on about how disrespectful Jordan had been.  My father didn't want me to have anything to do with him.  That if that was the sort of person I chose to spend my time with, then I couldn't be trusted to make reasonable decisions and maybe college wasn't the place for me.

 

My mom had finally come to my defense and told my father to settle down.  I was more than a little surprised by that.  But I knew for all of his shocking exterior, Jordan had charmed my mother. 

 

After lunch, I took my parents down town and they spent the afternoon going into the different shops.  By the time we had to head over to the Chi Delta house, my father had simmered down and was his normal, unpleasant self. 

 

My dad had hated every minute of being at the sorority, but had dialed down his outright distaste. I had dreaded going there.  But all of the sisters were on their best behavior.  Not one nasty look was lobbed my way and several of them made a point to speak to my parents.  Gracie was her perky, wonderful self and my dad actually liked her.  By the time we left, my father had three glasses of wine and a belly full of pulled pork and potato salad.  So he was feeling less combative.  When they dropped me back off at my apartment, we agreed to meet in the morning for breakfast.  My dad patted my back and told me goodnight.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Though I was just thankful he hadn't used the opportunity to make any last personal digs.

 

My mom gave me a hug.  “I like Jordan.  I think you did well, Maysie,” she whispered quietly before pulling away.  I couldn't help but grin. 

 

“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered back.  She kissed my cheek as I pulled back from her open window.  I waved as they drove off.  And despite the awfulness of the day I felt warm at the memory of Jordan telling my dad he was crazy about me.  Yeah, I was one lucky gal.

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

 

Several weeks had passed since Parents' Weekend.  Jordan had apologized profusely for being disrespectful to my father.  But before I could let him say any more about it, I had kissed him soundly,  letting him know that I had appreciated the disrespect he had dished out. 

 

No one had ever stuck up for me like that with my parents.  And I realized, without a doubt, that I was with the most amazing guy ever.  Because he was all about me.  And I was all about him.  And damned if we weren't going to make this thing between us work. 

 

Now it was another Saturday night and I was finally making it to one of Garrett's infamous parties.  I was a little nervous.  Garrett was definitely the wild one of the group and Jordan had regaled me of his after show exploits.  He was probably the least good looking out of the four guys.  Yet he apparently got more girls than any of them.  I guess he had something going for him.  

 

I hadn't been able to make Generation Rejects' show that evening because Layne had needed me to come in late to help unload some inventory.  I had cut back on my hours considerably since school started, finding myself unable to juggle work and school very effectively.  So any extra cash was a plus. 

 

We had finished up around midnight and I had driven to the address Jordan had texted to me earlier.  I found myself on the outskirts of Bakersville in a rundown area I wasn't familiar with.  I finally found the house at the end of a long gravel driveway.  It was a non-descript two story home that still had the 1960's German siding that was full of asbestos.  Jordan had told me that Garrett's parents had been killed in a car crash when he was still in high school and had left him the house.  Apparently, he had been in it ever since. 

 

The place was heaving.  Cars were along the driveway all the way down to the street.  Other cars had driven right up onto the lawn.  I could see a huge bonfire blazing in the back yard and people were hanging out on the porch. 

 

Jordan wasn't kidding when he said these parties were nuts.  As I approached the house, I saw a woman who had to be in her thirties, leaning over the railing, puking her guts out.  The vomit splashed on the ground below and I had to scramble passed before it sprayed me.  Gross.

 

The front door was wide open and I went inside.  Looking around, this was clearly not my scene.  This was a much rougher crowd than I was used to.  I noticed some people I recognized from Rinard, but the rest were strangers.  Some looked almost my parents' age.  Others could still be in high school.  And every single one of them seemed to be wasted off their asses.

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