Bad Rep Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons. Living or dead, business establishments, events or locals, are entirely coincidental.

  BAD REP

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  Copyright©2012

  Cover art courtesy of www.photos.co.uk

  This ebook is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  BAD REP

  A. Meredith Walters

  Chapter 1

  “Damn it!” I yelled after opening the very business-like white envelope that now lay in a crumpled heap on my apartment floor. My roommate, Riley, poked her head in from the hallway, her brown hair rumpled from her two hour nap.

  “Everything alright, Mays?” Riley asked, frowning. I rubbed my hand over my face, pushing my bangs back from my forehead in an agonized gesture.

  “Yeah, everything is just peachy. Except that I’m now going to have to get a second job,” I bit out sarcastically. Throwing the piece of paper onto the coffee table and leaning backwards on the horribly ugly yellow and green couch that came cheap, courtesy of the local good will.

  Riley Walker, my best friend since our freshman year at Rinard College in Bakersville, Virginia and recently acquired roomie, picked up the discarded letter and read it quickly. Her eyebrows shot up and she looked at me in shock.

  “3500 dollars! Maysie Ardin, are you freaking crazy? Did you take a trip to Vegas without me knowing?” My answering scowl was the only reply given. Okay, so I had been a little excessive in the shopping department. But I had really thought the new clothes and that adorable Vitamin A bikini had been essential for my weekend trip to Virginia Beach with two of my sorority sisters.

  I just hadn’t realized how trigger happy my swiping hand had become. But the monthly credit card statement screamed at me that I had been way too lax on the whole self-control thing during the last thirty days.

  MyVisa was supposed to be used “in emergencies only.” My parents had given me a 5,000 dollar limit, stressing that I was NEVER to even think about using it. Unless I was broken down on the side of a deserted highway with a serial killer hot on my tail.

  Not even I could explain how I justified my Manolo Blahnik heeled sandals as an emergency. But damn, they had looked amazing with my fitted red sundress. Too bad I had broken the heel the same night I wore them for the first time. I cringed inwardly at the memory.

  The parentals had received last month's bill and had forwarded it to me with a very nasty letter attached. They were not happy. Not that they were ever happy with anything that I did. But this time they were thermal nuclear. They expected me to pay for it. And every month after that until I could prove fiscal responsibility.

  The obnoxious thing was that for once, I understood why my parents were pissed at me. And I could see how making me pay the bill was reasonable. And that just irritated me even more.

  It was probably because this kind of spending wasn’t the norm. Yeah, I love designer shoes and handbags as much as the next twenty year old, soon to be college junior. But I had spinelessly allowed myself to be talked into one too many shopping trips with my new sisters at the Chi Delta sorority. And those girls didn’t spend lightly. I hadn't been making the best choices lately; that had become very apparent.

  I groaned. “No, if I had been to Vegas, I wouldn’t feel like such shit.” I lifted my foot to admire another pair of my insanely expensive pieces of footwear. Which I hated to admit didn’t look so amazing as they had the first time I had put them on my feet. In truth, I now felt like a Grade A moron.

  Riley rolled her eyes. “You did not buy yourself those obnoxiously overpriced shoes did you? I mean really, Mays...they’re probably made by tiny little child laborers in the South Pacific somewhere. You could feed a family of four for a month with how much those things cost. You have caved to the man, my friend.” I threw a pillow at Riley, who caught it and tossed it back. I was used to Riley’s never ending rants about the evil caste/Greek system at our school and how disappointed she was that I had been lured into their succubus-like hold. I would never admit to her how much her biting criticism hurt my feelings. So instead I tried to blow it off.

  “I know, alright. Enough with the soap box rant. I just have to figure out how the hell I’m going to make enough money to pay it off and still have some sort of a life this summer.” I tugged my dark hair out of its ponytail and got to my feet. Everything would make sense after a shower.

  “Can’t you get more hours at Bibi’s?” Riley suggested, following me into the kitchen. I shook my head as I opened the refrigerator looking for my bottle of Fanta.

  “Shit Ri! Did you drink all of my Fanta again?” I asked, feeling irrationally pissed about the fact that my best friend continued to eat and drink my stuff, even though she had her own food in the cabinet.

  Riley shrugged, not letting me change the subject.

  “So, you gonna ask your manager for more hours? That seems like the most logical thing to do.” Riley suggested, reaching around me to grab the bag of grapes on the top shelf.

  I took one of Riley’s sodas and popped the tab, daring her to remark about it. Riley wisely stayed quiet. “I’ve maxed my hours there already to pay for my fall sorority dues. There’s no way Layne will give me any more and let me stay part time. And I can’t go full time and juggle my summer school classes. The shop is only open until six.” I loved my job at Bibi’s, a vintage clothing boutique in downtown Bakersville. My boss, Layne, who was also a part owner, was easy to work for. But there was no way I could pinch any more time there without bailing on my classes. And I needed to take those classes and do well.

  Ihad stupidly gotten D’s in biology and statistics last spring during rush and I was in danger of losing my scholarship. It was very unlike me to do so poorly. Now my parents were threatening to yank me out of school all together and make me attend the local community college back home in Morganstown, South Carolina.

  And that was something I would avoid at all costs. Aside from the mortification of having to move back home, I'd be forced to share a space with my conservative, always disapproving parents. And that was a fate worse than death.

  So I sucked it up and decided to retake the classes over the summer. I was trying desperately to prove to my parents that I could handle my independence. That they weren’t wasting their money on a college education and that I wasn’t going to flush my opportunities down the proverbial toilet.

  Even if what I really wanted to do was spend my days hanging out by the pool and making out with Eli Bray, my hot new townie hook-up, who kissed so well it made my toes curl.

  No, I would try and do the right thing. The grown up thing. The mind numbingly boring thing.

  So, getting another job was the only course of action. “I need to find something that will let me work evenings, after class and that won’t interfere with my job at Bibi’s,” I explained, tossing the empty can into the recycling bin.

  Riley propped herself up on the stool at the tiny island in the middle of the kitchen. She folded her long legs awkwardly underneath her and looked thoughtful. I tapped my foot impatiently. I loved Riley. We had become fast friends during freshman orientation two years ago. Riley was the out- spoken and passionate hippie who had lived three doors down from me in our all girl dormitory. Even as I made new friends and we began to move in different social circles, we always stayed loyal to each other.

  Icouldn’t be as relaxed with anyone else the way I could be with Riley. We just got each other. Even finishing each other's sentences at times. We clicked. Bu
t it didn’t change the fact that there were definite things about my friend that annoyed the crap out of me. One being how calm and unconcerned Riley could be when I was seconds away from freaking out.

  “So, any ideas?” I finally asked impatiently. Riley tapped her finger over her mouth.

  “Well, I was going to head down to Barton’s in a bit to put in an application. They’re hiring wait staff for their evening rush. Might be an idea for you to come with me. Put in an application for yourself. It’s a bar, so you could work evening shifts and it wouldn’t mess with your classes and shifts at Bibi’s,” Riley offered.

  Ismiled and reached over to hug her. “Riley, you’re a god send. That’s a perfect idea.” Riley pulled back, always some what uncomfortable with any kind of physical affection.

  “Well, I’m about to hop in the shower and then we’ll head down there.” I nodded and felt a little bit better about the impossible situation I had found myself in when I had opened my mail that morning.

  My phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw I had a missed call from Eli. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes from the counter and went out the sliding doors onto the small balcony.

  I loved the tiny apartment that I shared with Riley. I had hated living in the dorms, with the paper thin walls and communal showers. So, when Riley suggested we look for a place to live together for our last two years of school, I had jumped at the chance. I was also happy to be able to tell my parents that it was cheaper to live off campus than to pay the room and board through the school.

  My academic scholarship only covered tuition and books, leaving my already cash strapped folks to cough up the rest. I pitched in by getting a job to cover food and other living expenses. I had felt really good with how mature I was being, well until the credit card statement made me realize my maturity still had a long way to go.

  I sat down in one of the two white lawn chairs that Riley had gotten and tapped out a cigarette. I lit it and took a drag, feeling my nerves a little less jangly with every puff. It was a nasty habit and I had every intention of quitting. Just not right now.

  I put the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. “Hey baby,” Eli’s slow drawl came through on the other end. I couldn't help but grin and exhale a lung full of smoke.

  “Hey, sorry I missed your call. What’s up?” I could hear Eli lighting his own cigarette, or maybe something else, on the other end and take a long inhale.

  “Nothin'. Just wanted to see what you had going on today. I was thinking of going to Randall’s to hang for a bit, you wanna meet me over there?” I stubbed out my smoke and stretched out my legs. I had only been dating Eli for a few weeks. It wasn’t anything serious. Eli’s cousin Randall lived down the hall and that’s how we had met.

  Riley and I had been coming in from getting breakfast and I had seen this guy lugging a guitar case up the stairs and into the hallway. He had short blond hair and a nice, easy smile. I was instantly entranced.

  Later that same day, as I was leaving for work, I had come out into the hallway to find the same guy playing on that same guitar on the steps leading outside. He had been playing the melody from Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers and I couldn’t help myself from stopping to listen. He wasn't that great or anything, mediocre at best. But I used it as an excuse to stop and sit down beside him.

  He was good looking, in that slacker, grungy kind of way. With messy blond hair that always hung in his face and hooded blue eyes. I had ended up calling in sick to work in favor of hanging out listening to this guy play his guitar. Afterward I sat with him in his cousin’s apartment while he smoked a joint and talked about the fate of modern music ad nauseum.

  I found out the guitar guy, Eli Bray, lived in town and worked at a local garage. He had no plans to go to college and barely made it through high school. He smoked pot like crazy and did little more than hang out with his cousin Randall and his cousin’s girlfriend, Cicely, playing his guitar.

  When I really thought about it, I was slightly mortified to be attracted to someone like that. I was the complete opposite of Eli in every possible way. But considering my recent descent into slackerdom, perhaps that explained the inexplicable attraction.

  Riley hated him and made that clear on the few times I had invited Eli over. Riley had barely spoken to him and often opted to pretend he wasn’t there at all. So I started waiting for my roommate to leave before asking Eli to come over, which annoyed me because it felt too reminiscent of living at home with my folks again.

  Despite the fact that Eli was motivationally challenged, he was pretty fun to hang out with. And shit, to be totally honest, he turned me on like crazy. We hadn’t slept together yet, but there were plenty of other lust-fueled activities to spend our time on. And truthfully, that was the sole basis for the relationship.

  So when Eli suggested that I hang with him at Randall’s, I had a hard time resisting the offer. Considering I knew we would put in an obligatory show for about twenty minutes before Eli would drag me into the spare bedroom. It made me tingle to think of spending an afternoon like that.

  But I had other priorities just then. Ones that unfortunately, didn’t involve hot guitar boy's tongue.

  “Can’t, I have to go find a second job. Had the heart attack surprise of an overly inflated credit card bill this month.” I picked up my pack of cigarettes and headed inside.

  The beautiful thing about Eli is that he didn’t immediately chastise me like Riley had. He didn’t question what I had spent the money on. It could have been he was being respectful, or more likely, he just didn’t care. He simply took my word that I had other plans and didn’t push me for more. But on the other hand, it made me feel like he really could have cared less about what was going on in my life. Which is the very reason I could never contemplate taking this thing we had going on to any sort of other level. Eli Bray and boyfriend didn't belong in the same sentence. And for now, I could live with that.

  “Okay babe. Well, I’ll be at Randall’s this afternoon. Come by if you can. I’ll catch up with you later.” No assurance of when I’d hear from him again, just a vague ‘see ya.’

  Before I could reply, the line went dead. Okay then. Riley emerged from the bathroom, a waft of steam following her into the hallway. “You didn’t use up all the hot water again, did you?” I complained, grabbing my robe from the back of my bedroom door.

  Riley shrugged. “Should be a bit left, no promises.” I groaned and closed the door to the bathroom.

  I took out the tweezers and spent a few minutes plucking the crazy bushes I called eyebrows into some semblance of shape. I pulled the skin at the corner of my eyes and stuck out my tongue. I was pretty, even I could admit that. With dark brown hair that stopped just below my shoulders and even darker eyes. I was slender without being skinny and was pleased with the way I had curves in all the right places. Despite my attractive appearance, I had gone largely unnoticed in high school when it came to the opposite sex. So it had been quite a shock when I came to Rinard College and discovered that guys actually liked me. Desired me even.

  As a result of this new self-realization, I discovered that I liked to date, and date often. I had had a string of sort of serious boyfriends on and off since I was a freshman. None of them lasted longer than a month or two. Now that I was entering my junior year, I had every intention of continuing on my semi-monogamous path.

  I was by no means a delusional romantic. I was 100% into every guy that I dated, but I had never experienced real “love.” Sure, I had lost my virginity mid-way through my first year of college to a guy I swore was the cutest boy I had ever seen. But two months later, I found myself being dumped for a hot sophomore with double D breasts in his biology class. Sure it had hurt, but I got over it. I always did. That's how I knew the love bug hadn't bit me yet. Maybe I was a bit behind the curve in that department. I thought about Eli and almost laughed at the thought of him being my “one.”

  No way in hell.

  I rushed through my
shower, finding that the water turned frigid after about four minutes. Damn Riley! I hurriedly got ready, forgoing blow drying my hair in favor of a quick and sloppy bun at the back of my head.

  I threw on a knee length black cotton skirt and teal tank top. Dabbing a bit of lip gloss on and I was ready to go. Grabbing my brown leather handbag, I followed Riley out of the apartment. We ran into Eli's cousin Randall as we were making our way to Riley's beat up Volvo. He was lugging a huge guitar amp out of his trunk. “Hey, Maysie. You comin' by later?” Randall asked in that stoner way of his. His eyes were bloodshot and a little unfocused, making it obvious a wake and bake had been part of his morning routine.

  Riley rolled her eyes and got into her car without greeting our neighbor. I smiled politely and shook my head. “Can't. Have to find another mode of gainful employment. But I'll try and stop by this evening. Will you guys be around?” I asked, glaring at Riley as she gave the car horn a quick toot.

  Randall started rolling the amp toward the apartment building. “We're heading out to the lake for a party tonight, should be killer. Swing by if you want.” I tried not to growl in frustration. Eli hadn't mentioned anything about a party. Reinforcing that a serious relationship is not what we had.