Bad Reputation

3. Jameson

3

Jameson

One Month Later

I slam on the brakes of my Jeep in the parking lot of the grocery store, gritting my teeth at the person who is backing out of the space in front of me. The car is an old Buick, and the driver is no doubt ancient, but I’m still irritated.

If I’m honest, everything is irritating these days. I had Asher to hang out with and complain about life to for about a week after my break up with Emma. But then he disappeared, and has yet to reappear.

I haven’t seen or heard from Emma either, not that I can really blame her. It wasn’t the smoothest break up ever, for either of us.

I maneuver my car into a spot, getting out. We ran out of all the citrus fruits at Cure, so here I am, finding a shopping cart. I wheel a cart inside, and veer to the right into the produce section.

The produce here is good and cheap. There’s tons of greenery and colorful vegetables, all lined up in those black coolers that mist every once in a while. I turn to the stacks of citrus crates and grab handfuls of lemons, limes, oranges, and grapefruits.

Then I reconsider, and just grab one crate of each kind of citrus, stacking them in my shopping cart. I scowl down at the produce. I have a handful of other things to get while I’m at the grocery store, so I push my cart onward.

I can’t stop thinking of Emma. I think about her here. I think about her at the movies. I think of her driving down the highway, and when I’m at the beach.

I know that I should forget all about her. After all, I pretty much told her that we weren’t ever a thing. But somehow, I can’t.

Instead, I replay for about the thousandth time the bits of information I’ve gotten about her from our mutual friends. I asked Evie how Emma was doing about two weeks ago. I got a stony stare in return. Evie raised a brow, and told me that Emma is just fine.

Her chilly attitude let me know that Emma told her everything… and that Evie didn’t approve of how I handled the situation. I didn’t need any of Evie’s disapproval. I have plenty of my own misgivings without her adding salt to the wound.

I push my cart down the cereal aisle and grab my favorite brand of granola. I broke down and asked Asher about his sister last week, when we were working together. He just gave me a weird look and said that she’s fine.

So that’s all I know. She’s fine. She’s just… gone.

From my life, anyway. I would’ve expected to see her in Cure maybe, or hanging out with Asher at some point. After all, she has always just sort of shown up before this.

Now, I guess I ruined that.

I wander down the aisles, a faint squeaking coming from my cart. It’s been a month, and I’m just feeling stuck.

Stuck in life. Stuck on her. I’ve never been in a relationship whose half-life was so long. Hell, I’ve never mourned a fling for more than a few days.

And that’s what I told her we had. Just a fling.

The hurt on her face when I said that… it will haunt me forever. That was the moment that I would take back if I could.

But then of course, nothing would have been fixed or resolved. I would’ve been on a collision course with Asher, for sure.

I turn the cart around the end of an aisle, heading back to the front. At the far end of the aisle, looking at different types of pasta, is Emma.

I freeze, staring at her. She looks as beautiful as I remember, with her long raven locks tucked up in a crown braid. Her svelte figure is neatly wrapped in a sundress, and she’s wearing those insanely tall heels that show off her legs.

I swear, if I was a cartoon, I would be a wolf, with my tongue rolling out and my eyes shaped like hearts. She senses someone looking at her and glances my way.

After getting used to her sunny smile and warm greeting whenever she saw me, I’m blown away by her black look. She scowls at me, turning to push her cart away as fast as she can go. She disappears around the corner.

Abandoning my cart where I was standing, I all but sprint in her direction. It takes a second for me to find her, a few aisles down, but I take advantage of my height and speed.

“Emma,” I call to her, halfway down the aisle.

The look she throws over her shoulder is pure ice. I pay no heed, just hurry up. By the end of the aisle, I’ve caught up with her.

“Emma, please wait.”

She stops, hesitation in every movement, and then turns around. She doesn’t look very happy to see me. “What?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. You know, make sure you’re doing okay,” I say lamely.

She rubs one of her temples. “I’m okay. You’ve seen me.”

She starts to turn away again, and I reach out and grab her arm. She looks at my hand like it is the devil, trying to gain access to her soul. She wrenches herself away.

“What are you trying to do here, exactly?” she hisses.

“Sorry,” I say, stepping back and holding my hands up. “I just… I don’t know. I’ve been trying to check up on you for a while.”

She looks pissed. “Here I am. You’ve seen me. Are you happy with that?”

“No,” I admit honestly. “I was hoping that we could… you know, still hang out. Be friends, go to restaurants.”

She squints at me. “You mean you want things to go back to the way they were before we had s*x?”

“Yeah. I was thinking we could—”

She tosses her head. “You realize that’s friendzoning, right? Like, hey you, I want you to do all the things with me that I should do with a romantic parter, but without the romance.”

“I mean, just because we broke up—”

“I didn’t think flings got breakups.”

Yeah, I deserved that one. “I think we can be friends still.”

“Really? I don’t.”

We just stand there for a second, looking at each other. f**k, I didn’t expect negotiating things to be this hard with her. I have to come up with something to stop the hatred, and fast.

“I need your help,” comes out of my mouth, without me even really thinking about it.

Emma raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yep. Uh… with studying for the GED. Yeah, I’m hopeless at studying by myself. I already had to put off my tests again for another month.” It’s true that I delayed my testing, but it isn’t because I can’t study alone. I just haven’t been in the mood lately, at all.

“I don’t know…” she says, her brow furrowing.

I go for the gusto. “It’s just, I feel so stupid when I try to study by myself. Like, I know that I should be able to, but…”

I try to look pathetic. If you’ve ever been my height and tried to make a face like a pouty little kid, you know what I’m talking about.

She looks at me, and I can see her wavering. She’s mad as hell still, but apparently my education is more important than that. She chews her lower lip.

I know what she needs to hear. She thinks I am pathetic, that I can’t study by myself. I swallow the lump of pride that collects in my throat. I say the magic words, lowering my voice.

“Please? I can’t do it on my own. I need help.”

Emma’s eyes narrow. For a second, I think she’s about to yell at me. But she doesn’t. Instead, she sighs and looks really annoyed with herself.

“Fine,” she bites off, crossing her arms.

I feel my cheek heat; I’m ashamed of myself. Not only for having to take the damn GED in the first place, but for using it as an excuse to get Emma to forgive me.

“Thank you,” I say, laying my hand on her arm.

She pulls away, like I am made of hot coals. Her face scrunches up. She looks actually wounded, like me touching her arm is an unforgivable sin. “Don’t touch me.”

My face heats a little more. “Sorry.”

I see her own cheeks start to flush. “We need… we need boundaries.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Boundaries? Like what?”

She rubs her arm where I touched her, looking angry. “Like no touching, for a start. And no… like, brooding.”

“No brooding.” I honesty try to keep a straight face, but I can’t quite manage it.

My lips lift a little, and her mood suddenly darkens. The look in her green eyes is almost violent. She glares at me.

“If you’re not going to take me seriously, you can study by yourself.”

“No no,” I say, raising my hands. “You make the rules, okay?”

“Damn right, I do.” She looks hostile towards me.

“So, uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “Should I come over tomorrow night, then?”

“What? Uh, no. We are going to meet at a coffee shop, during the day. You lost your privileges to just come and go as you wish from my house.”

Her scowl says she’s dead serious.

“Right. Yeah, of course,” I say, hedging. “You’re right. I have to work tomorrow, though. How about the day after?”

“I’m busy all day Wednesday,” she says in a flat voice. “When’s your next day off?”

“I have Thursday morning free,” I say with a shrug.

“Fine. Let’s meet at ten?” She glances around restlessly, clearly ready to go.

“Ten is perfect.” Ten is terrible for me, actually. I planned on surfing all morning, but I don’t tell Emma that. “Can I bring anything?”

“Just bring your books. I’ll text you the location.”

On the tip of my tongue is a question about why the f**k she hasn’t answered any of my ‘just checking in’ texts. I bite back my questions, though.

“Okay. Great—”

She’s already turning back to her shopping cart, ready to leave.

“Emma, wait…” I say.

Her dark head turns, and she looks at me, disinterest in her green gaze. “Yes?”

Nothing has ever cut me so deep, so fast. I suck in a breath, exhaling my response. “Thanks.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing her cart and heading to the front of the store. I watch her walk away, the hem of her sundress sliding against the back of her thighs.

Fuck! Stupid! I silently curse myself.

I caused this. I did it for the sake of Asher’s friendship, but it still hurts like hell.

I amble back to my own shopping cart, feeling like I just got ran over by a f*****g Mack truck. I glance back, but Emma is gone.

Leaning my elbows on the cart, I putter around, not wanting to crowd her by going up to the register while she’s still waiting in line to check out. I stop for a second, and scrub a hand over my facial hair.

I know that it’s better this way. I had to break up with her. Asher would have found out, sooner or later… and his friendship means everything to me.

So I’m willing to suffer in silence. But I still want Emma in my life… even if it’s just as a friend.

We can do that, I think. We can be friends.

Right?