Bad Rep (Bad Rep, #1)(43)

“Yep.  See ya Saturday,” he called back, throwing his leg over the seat of his motorcycle and revving it up.  He gave me a final wave before taking off down the street and I headed toward the Chi Delta house and two hours of drama.
Chapter Eleven



Rush week was a raging success.  We had sent out eight bids and each girl had accepted.  I finally, after months, felt like I belonged with my sisters.  It felt good to help contribute to something that benefited the sisterhood.  Most of the girls had made it a point to tell Vivian and I how great of a job we had done.  The skit was fantastic and it had all fallen into place.  Even with the massive amounts of anxiety and stressing.  I had even received a call from my Big Sis in Chi Delta, Caryn, who had graduated last year and now lived in California.  She wanted to congratulate me on completing my first rush week as co-chair.  So all in all, I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself.

And seriously exhausted.  By Saturday afternoon I was ready to drop.  But my day was far from over.  I had just gotten back to my apartment after being at the house all morning for Bid's Day activities.   The new girls had been excited and their enthusiasm reminded me of why I had joined Chi Delta in the first place.  I hated to admit that I had started doubting my reasons for signing on with a sorority.  But today reaffirmed that these girls were my friends and I belonged.

“You look wrecked, my friend,” Riley said from my doorway.  She was dressed for her shift at Barton's.  I hadn't seen much of her since school started.  Partly because I was so consumed with all things rush and partly because Riley was spending every free minute with Damien.

“I wish I could just lay down and take a nap,” I groaned, throwing my shoes out of my closet trying to find the pair I wanted to wear tonight.

“You're going to burn out if you don't take it easy once in awhile,” Riley warned, dropping to her knees beside me and pulling out the other wedged sandal I was looking for.

“Thanks,” I told her, taking the shoe from her hand.  Riley sat cross legged on my floor as I got to my feet and started getting my outfit together.

“So what's on your epic social calendar for the evening?” Riley asked.

“It's the Pi Sig mixer.  I have to be back at the house around 7 to pre-game,”  I muttered, focusing on my search for a set of earrings.  “Agg! I feel like I'm losing my mind!  Where are my silver star earrings? I can't find anything!” I cried, throwing my hands into the air.

Riley got to her feet and gently pushed me out of the way as she started to root through my jewelry box.  “Go sit down, you need a breather.  I'll find them.”  I took her advice and lay down on my bed.

“Here they are, loser.” Riley tossed me the earrings and they landed on my chest.

“I'm a mess!  What would I do without you?” I asked tiredly, my eyelids drooping heavily.

“Not be able to find your earrings?” Riley asked and we both laughed.  I patted the bed beside me and Riley came and sat down.

“How are things with Damien?” I asked her, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.  Riley blushed.  Dear god, she must have it bad if she was actually getting red at the sound of his name.

“Good.  After work tonight, he's taking me to the midnight showing of that comic book movie I wanted to see that you refuse to go to.”  I pushed her arm.

“Sorry if I can't sit through two hours of guys in really tight spandex talking about their crystal of power or whatever.”  Riley widened her eyes.

“You just don't get its complexity,” she intoned dramatically.  I chuckled.

“Sure, that's it.  So, Damien's taking you out on a date.  Things seem to be moving along nicely,” I said.  Riley smiled softly.

“Yeah, he's pretty great.  You know, he has a few cute friends if you want me to hook you up,” Riley joked.  She knew how I felt about blind dates.

I made a rude noise.  “I'll try internet dating first, thanks.  Besides, I'm not looking, remember,” I reminded her.  Riley looked at me knowingly.

“Well you're not looking if that guy isn't Jordan Levitt,” she said.  I smacked her with a pillow and she laughed.  “You know, he talks about you a lot,” she said suddenly.

I sat up on my bed.  “Jordan talks about me?” I asked dumbly.  Riley rolled her eyes.

“No, the pope talks about you...yes Jordan!”  My throat felt tight.

“What does he say?”  I shouldn't want to know this. I knew better than to ask.  But damned if I didn't want to hear every tiny detail.

“He makes every excuse to mention you in some way.  'Oh, Maysie must have rearranged the salt shakers.'  'I wonder if Maysie knows where the phone book is.'  It's almost pathetic.”  I forced myself to laugh, though I really felt like throwing up.   “Yesterday, he was telling me about how he taught you to play the guitar at his party.  He said you're a natural.” It was my turn to roll my eyes.

“He clearly has a different memory of that than I do. I sucked.”  Riley shrugged.

“Hell, you could probably sound like a dying cat and he'd think you were amazing,” she teased.  I shot her a look.