BAD REP(61)

“This party is over,” he called over his shoulder.   Olivia wrapped her arms around his waist and Jordan supported her as they disappeared into the house without a backward glance.  He hadn't looked at me again.  And that was all I needed to see to know I had ruined everything for absolutely nothing.  My shoulders sagged in defeat and I wanted to curl into a ball and die.

I was given the evil eye by most everyone as they started to disperse.  “Bitch” and “slut” were on everyone's lips.

“Lets get you home.” Gracie said, keeping her arm around me.  Gracie and I walked the long five blocks back to my apartment and I think I cried the entire way.

By the time I let us inside, I was all cried out and just felt empty.  I was glad Riley hadn't come home yet.  I didn't think I could have dealt with her questions.  Gracie turned the lights on and sat me down on the couch.  She went into the kitchen, opening cabinets and making a lot of noise.  She came back a few minutes later with a glass of water and three ibuprofen as well as some antiseptic and band aids.

“Take these and let me put some stuff on those scratches on your neck.  They look brutal.”  I took the ibuprofen and swallowed them, trying not to wince as she started dabbing my war wounds.

“Well, it doesn't look like you have a bald spot.  With the amount of hair she pulled out of your head, I wasn't sure.”  Gracie tried to crack a smile but I just gazed at her numbly.

“Maysie, I'm so sorry,” she said, putting her hand on top of mine.  We sat like that for a few minutes but then I got achingly to my feet.  There was no doubt I'd be feeling shitty in the morning.  And not just from the bitch fight.

“I want to go to bed,” I rasped, my voice sounding like I had been gargling with glass.  Gracie got to her feet as well.

“Do you want me to stay?  I mean, I could keep you company,” Gracie offered, looking worried about leaving me by myself.

But I just wanted to be alone.  I didn't want to talk. I didn't want the looks of sympathy and concern. I only wanted to sleep and pretend that this was all a bad dream.  At least for a little while.

“No, that's okay.  You head on home.  Riley will be here in a bit I'm sure,” I told her.  Gracie gave me a quick hug.

“Olivia was wasted.  I'm sure she'll feel like shit in the morning for attacking you,” Gracie said.  I shook my head.

“I hooked up with her boyfriend. I'm sure she'll just regret not doing a better job.” I touched the scratches on my neck and grimaced.

Gracie sighed.  “You'll ride this one out.  Give it a few days and everyone will move onto another scandal. It's the nature of the college gossip chain.  You'll see,” Gracie promised.  But I didn't believe her.

Though I tried to smile, for her sake.  “Thanks, Gracie.  You're a good friend.” Gracie hugged me again.

“Okay, well then, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow.  If you need anything, call me,  okay?”  I nodded, following her to the front door.  “You're one tough cookie.  You'll come out of this swinging.  I know it!” I wished I shared just a fraction of her positivity.  But I was all tapped out.

“Sure thing,” I replied, closing the door behind her.  I went to my room, not bothering to turn on the light.  I took off my dress and threw it on the floor.  I lay down on my bed, too exhausted to turn back the covers.  I stared at my ceiling, my mind going a thousand miles a minute.  My life was over.  I was sure of it.

My phone chirped from my bedside table.  I wanted to ignore it, but instead I leaned over and grabbed it, turning the screen on.  A text from Jordan waited for me.  I didn't even have the energy to wonder how he got my number.

Are you alright?  Please let me know you got home safely!  I'm so sorry about all of this.  We need to talk. ~Jordan

I debated whether I should respond.  But finally, I caved.

I'm fine.  Talk soon.

Then I deleted his message and turned my phone off.  Because right now, I was done with talking.
Chapter Thirteen


It was day one of “Maysie goes into hiding.”  It felt like being in a leper colony.  Or having some sort of serious social phobia.  But I had to stay in my safe little bubble.  Off the grid.  Until everything blew over.  Or the world ended in a fiery apocalypse.  Whichever came first.