Bad Rep (Bad Rep, #1)(68)



“What do you want Milla?  If you want to say something, just say it.” I knew I was setting myself up for it, but at that point, I just didn't care.

Milla moved in closer.  She was quite a bit taller than me and I hated how I had to look up at her.  “I've never liked you, Maysie.  If it were up to me, you'd be kicked out of Chi Delta so fast your head would spin.  But that's not how we do things.  Some of us are classier than that.” I snorted.

“Classy?  You?” I scoffed, giving her short skirt and revealing shirt a critical once over.  Milla's face darkened.

“Well, I wasn't the one f*cking Olivia's boyfriend behind her back, was I?” I opened my mouth to give a snappy comeback but stopped myself.  What was the point?  I wasn't in the mood for a round of verbal jousting.

“I think you have some nerve prancing all over campus with him like that.  Olivia has been nothing but nice to you.  And this is how you repay her?  By jumping in for her sloppy seconds?”  Milla pushed passed me then stopped and looked back.  “But I guess it's easy to land a guy when you're so willing to lay on your back for him.  You are nothing but a whore and the whole campus knows it.  So enjoy Jordan while you have him.  Because I can guarantee it won't be for long.”  She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and walked off, our two sisters following behind her not bothering to acknowledge me.

I stood there, dumbstruck.  Was that bitch for real?  It didn't take a scientist to see that jealousy motivated everything with Milla.  She reeked of it.  I didn't want to listen to any of the bullshit that came out of her mouth.  I wanted to dismiss her outright.  But the sucky thing was that she was right.  It was crappy to walk around with Jordan, blissful in the newness of our relationship while Olivia nursed her wounds over their recent break-up.  It was kind of heartless and more than a little selfish.  And I didn't want to be that girl.  But maybe I had unwittingly already become her.


Chapter Seventeen


The rest of the week went by in agonizing slowness.  Every day I had to walk onto campus knowing I was the talk of the town.  I suppose I could have been flattered that people were so interested in my life.  It would have been great to look at the catastrophic mess in something semi-positive.  But the truth was that the rumors, the whispers, the hateful looks, were like a knife to my gut.  I had gone from being a happy, popular sorority girl, to public enemy #1.  I had known Olivia was well liked but I had a feeling that my descent into villainy had more to do with the public's need for a juicy scandal.  The parts had been given out and I was cast as the conniving slut.

I sat in my classes, trying to pay attention to my professors' lectures but I all I could hear were the hushed voices swirling around me.  I overheard a couple of girls talking about how I had purposefully gone after Jordan while Olivia was away for the summer.  The words “slut” and “disgusting skank” had been thrown in for good measure and I had immediately stopped listening.

Jordan wasn't immune to it either.  He had shown up at my apartment for our date looking majorly pissed off.  I had asked him what was wrong but he had only shaken his head, saying it didn't matter.  After some more prodding, I had gotten out of him that there was a “house meeting” with his roommates.  It had gotten ugly.  Nasty things were said (though he wouldn't elaborate what they were) and he had left before anything had been resolved.

I felt horrible.  I hated that I was the source of such dissension in his life.  Jordan wouldn't let me apologize, emphatically telling me I had nothing to be sorry for.  But I was sorry.  So, horribly, terribly sorry.

How could we have any sort of meaningful relationship when it was founded on so much drama?  I had asked if we could rain check on going out to dinner and instead suggested ordering in.  Jordan had argued that he wanted to take me out.  That we had nothing to be ashamed of.  I didn't agree.  Now more than ever, I wanted to hide away from it all.

Jordan had eventually caved and we ended up ordering Chinese and watching a movie.  I tried to forget about everything outside of he and I and this great thing we had going on.  I had also come to find that while we were alone, forgetting was surprisingly easy.

Because we had fun together.  More than that...we just sort of fit.  And that made me think that it was definitely worth the heartache.

So, while we ate our cheap Chinese food, Jordan had tried to get me to eat some his spicy pork.  I refused, resulting in Jordan shoving a piece into my mouth while he pinned me to the couch.  Soon a food fight had ensued and by the time we called cease fire, the living room walls were painted with sweet and sour sauce and bits of chicken hung from my hair.  Jordan was trying to lick the remnants of our dinner off of my neck when Riley had walked in with Damien.

They took one look at Jordan kneeling over top of me on the couch with his mouth sucking on my chin and had turned around and walked right back out.  Jordan and I had started laughing until he pressed his mouth to mine and then there wasn't any more laughing.  Or talking.  Only kissing.  And a lot of touching.

The insatiable physical attraction only grew stronger the more time we spent together.  And it was this need to be with him in every way possible that made our situation all the harder to handle.  Because I wanted to yell from the rooftops that Jordan Levitt was my boyfriend.  I wanted to go out on dates and walk across campus together.   I wanted to take him to mixers and announce to the world that he was mine.

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