Bad Rep
Page 34
A few of my sisters came up and chatted. I engaged in a rioting debate about the superiority of the thong as opposed to the less sexy boy shorts with several inebriated Pi Sigs. I even joined in one game of beer pong. But by midnight I was ready to call it quits and head home. But I couldn't. Because I had stupidly volunteered to be the goddamn sober sister.
I had already made four runs back to the Chi Delta house, threatening bodily harm on my sisters if they threw up in my car (which was finally fixed and road functioning). I had resumed my spot by the back door, still sipping that god awful beer when my eyes zeroed in on the living room.
Jordan had walked in and stood there, looking around at the complete and utter chaos that had taken over his house. He looked tired. His hair that had started to grow out was sticking up on all sides of his head. Even from this distance I could see the dark circles under his eyes. As well as the bulging vein on the side of his neck. He was pissed.
Not knowing what possessed me, I got up and edged closer to him. Some sick part of me wanted to witness his detonation. “Olivia!” I heard him call out. I could barely hear him over the noise level. My eyes darted around the room, finally locating our illustrious president as she licked a line of salt from a random Pi Sig's neck and then proceed to take a shot of tequila.
Jordan stalked toward his girlfriend. I inched behind him, curious as to what was about to go down. Olivia was trying to balance a shot glass in her cle**age when Jordan grabbed her by the upper arm and swung her around. “Jordan!” she shrieked. In her drunken state it actually sounded more like “Jahhhdunnn.”
Jordan reached down and pulled the shot glass out of her shirt and threw it on the floor. “Hey,” she pouted but then tried to put her arms around his neck. Jordan reached up and untangled her hands and put them firmly by her side.
“I told you to keep it under control. You f**king promised me, Liv,” he said tiredly. My heart wrenched for him.
Olivia rolled her eyes and pressed against him. “We're having fun. Don't be such a party pooper. Now come on and do some shots with me.” I could see the tip of her tongue glide along his neck and I wanted to punch her in the face.
Jordan stepped away from her. I wondered if he would go off. He looked like he wanted to. But then he just shook his head. “Enjoy the party,” he told her. He grabbed a beer from the table and walked away, heading for the stairs. I watched him disappear around the corner. I turned back to see what Olivia would do, but she had already forgotten about him. I watched in disgust as she crawled around on the floor looking for her lost shot glass.
I had had enough. I put my cup down on the window sill and found myself climbing the stairs to the second level. I didn't know what the hell I was thinking. I had been adamant in my resolve to stay away from Jordan. I didn't want to play this game with him while he was involved with someone else. But after witnessing the f**ked up dynamic between he and Olivia, my heart hurt for him.
I didn't want to find him to hook up or anything. I kind of just wanted to hang out with him. For a little bit. As a friend. If that were possible.
There were four doors in the hallway and I had no idea which one was Jordan's. So I started opening them. The first was a bathroom where a girl was puking her guts out in the sink and a guy was passed out in the tub. I closed that door quickly.
The next was a bedroom and it was currently being used. I caught sight of two girls and a guy naked on the bed before I slammed the door shut. I might have to bleach my brain when I got home after the shit I had seen go down this evening.
I opened the third door and knew instantly I was in the right place. A drum kit sat in the corner and a guitar rack hung from the wall above a double bed. There were a few posters, each of a different band. I recognized one of my favorites, the Pixies.
A door to the right opened and Jordan stepped out of an adjoining bathroom. He looked up and stopped short, seeming surprised. “Maysie. What are you doing up here?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light. A heated look flickered over his face as his swept over my body.
“You look amazing,” he murmured, his stare searing holes through my body. I coughed in nervousness and Jordan looked away. I watched him cross to the other side of the room. He picked up one of the guitars off the rack. He slipped the strap around his neck and sat on the bed as he started to tune it.
“Well, I promised you I'd come,” I said, still looking around his room. I noticed several framed pictures on his dresser. Walking over, I picked up one of him and Olivia at some formal. They looked younger and were smiling at each other in a way that made it obvious they were in love. I quickly put it down.
“Yes you did. Glad to see some people keep their promises,” he replied darkly, running his hand down the length of his shiny Ibanez guitar.
“A little crazy down there, huh?” I asked, watching him. He started twisting the tuning pegs, while plucking the strings. Jordan grunted something unintelligible but otherwise didn't comment.
“I didn't know you played the guitar.” I said, tentatively pulling up his desk chair and having a seat. He looked up at me and gave me a halfhearted smile.
“Yeah, I don't play that well. The drums are definitely more my thing. But sometimes I just like to jam out for a bit. It's kind of a stress reliever.” He looked back down at the guitar in his hands and started to move his fingers over the strings. I was tickled to realize he was playing the opening chords of Tangerine, one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.
I had already made four runs back to the Chi Delta house, threatening bodily harm on my sisters if they threw up in my car (which was finally fixed and road functioning). I had resumed my spot by the back door, still sipping that god awful beer when my eyes zeroed in on the living room.
Jordan had walked in and stood there, looking around at the complete and utter chaos that had taken over his house. He looked tired. His hair that had started to grow out was sticking up on all sides of his head. Even from this distance I could see the dark circles under his eyes. As well as the bulging vein on the side of his neck. He was pissed.
Not knowing what possessed me, I got up and edged closer to him. Some sick part of me wanted to witness his detonation. “Olivia!” I heard him call out. I could barely hear him over the noise level. My eyes darted around the room, finally locating our illustrious president as she licked a line of salt from a random Pi Sig's neck and then proceed to take a shot of tequila.
Jordan stalked toward his girlfriend. I inched behind him, curious as to what was about to go down. Olivia was trying to balance a shot glass in her cle**age when Jordan grabbed her by the upper arm and swung her around. “Jordan!” she shrieked. In her drunken state it actually sounded more like “Jahhhdunnn.”
Jordan reached down and pulled the shot glass out of her shirt and threw it on the floor. “Hey,” she pouted but then tried to put her arms around his neck. Jordan reached up and untangled her hands and put them firmly by her side.
“I told you to keep it under control. You f**king promised me, Liv,” he said tiredly. My heart wrenched for him.
Olivia rolled her eyes and pressed against him. “We're having fun. Don't be such a party pooper. Now come on and do some shots with me.” I could see the tip of her tongue glide along his neck and I wanted to punch her in the face.
Jordan stepped away from her. I wondered if he would go off. He looked like he wanted to. But then he just shook his head. “Enjoy the party,” he told her. He grabbed a beer from the table and walked away, heading for the stairs. I watched him disappear around the corner. I turned back to see what Olivia would do, but she had already forgotten about him. I watched in disgust as she crawled around on the floor looking for her lost shot glass.
I had had enough. I put my cup down on the window sill and found myself climbing the stairs to the second level. I didn't know what the hell I was thinking. I had been adamant in my resolve to stay away from Jordan. I didn't want to play this game with him while he was involved with someone else. But after witnessing the f**ked up dynamic between he and Olivia, my heart hurt for him.
I didn't want to find him to hook up or anything. I kind of just wanted to hang out with him. For a little bit. As a friend. If that were possible.
There were four doors in the hallway and I had no idea which one was Jordan's. So I started opening them. The first was a bathroom where a girl was puking her guts out in the sink and a guy was passed out in the tub. I closed that door quickly.
The next was a bedroom and it was currently being used. I caught sight of two girls and a guy naked on the bed before I slammed the door shut. I might have to bleach my brain when I got home after the shit I had seen go down this evening.
I opened the third door and knew instantly I was in the right place. A drum kit sat in the corner and a guitar rack hung from the wall above a double bed. There were a few posters, each of a different band. I recognized one of my favorites, the Pixies.
A door to the right opened and Jordan stepped out of an adjoining bathroom. He looked up and stopped short, seeming surprised. “Maysie. What are you doing up here?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light. A heated look flickered over his face as his swept over my body.
“You look amazing,” he murmured, his stare searing holes through my body. I coughed in nervousness and Jordan looked away. I watched him cross to the other side of the room. He picked up one of the guitars off the rack. He slipped the strap around his neck and sat on the bed as he started to tune it.
“Well, I promised you I'd come,” I said, still looking around his room. I noticed several framed pictures on his dresser. Walking over, I picked up one of him and Olivia at some formal. They looked younger and were smiling at each other in a way that made it obvious they were in love. I quickly put it down.
“Yes you did. Glad to see some people keep their promises,” he replied darkly, running his hand down the length of his shiny Ibanez guitar.
“A little crazy down there, huh?” I asked, watching him. He started twisting the tuning pegs, while plucking the strings. Jordan grunted something unintelligible but otherwise didn't comment.
“I didn't know you played the guitar.” I said, tentatively pulling up his desk chair and having a seat. He looked up at me and gave me a halfhearted smile.
“Yeah, I don't play that well. The drums are definitely more my thing. But sometimes I just like to jam out for a bit. It's kind of a stress reliever.” He looked back down at the guitar in his hands and started to move his fingers over the strings. I was tickled to realize he was playing the opening chords of Tangerine, one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.
