Page 20 of Bad Reputation
Jameson comes over and pulls my hair out of my face, and rubs my back until I’m done. I think he murmurs something soothing, telling me it’s going to be okay, but I’m really wrapped up in the business of throwing up.
When I’m done, Jameson guides me to his car and gets me inside. I slump against the door as he drives me back to his house that he shares with Asher, ashamed, exhausted, and drunk.
Jameson manages to get me into his house and to the couch in his living room. I sprawl all over the place while Jameson takes my shoes off my feet and gets me a glass of water.
He covers me with a blanket and turns out the lights.
“I’m sorry,” I slur, my eyes closing of their own volition.
I think I hear a smile in his voice, but I’m not sure. “Don’t be.”
“It’s not how I thought tonight would go…” I whisper.
Then I fall asleep.
8
Jameson
Current Day
I glance around the apartment, at the countless stacks of old newspapers, giant trash piles, and two piles of what looks like clothing. Every pile is overflowing, some so high that they nearly touch the ceiling. There is a path carved out among the piles of stuff, but I’m afraid to move too fast. It looks like it could all be set off into a miniature avalanche with one wrong move.
I lift a sheet of plywood up that was on top of a bunch of broken down dishwashers. Whatever is underneath smells pretty foul. I take a step back, wrinkling my nose.
“Dude.” Asher covers his mouth and coughs as dust flies everywhere. We’re on the other side of our duplex, cleaning out the side used for storage.“I literally think the landlord used to store actual junk here. And I think at some point he had animals.”
I just grunt in acknowledgment. I hulk out, lifting the plywood overhead and carefully picking my way through the piles of broken computer parts and newspapers until I get outside. I set the plywood down on the porch, beside the other large pieces of junk that we’ve pulled out of the house.
It feels good to move around a little, after not doing anything too physically strenuous for a few days. My t-shirt is a little sweaty; I pull it away from my skin, giving myself a little air.
Asher joins me, handing me a bottle water. “What do you think?”
I look at him, twisting the cap on the water. “About what?”
“About the house. I mean, can you see this side being lived in, after we clean it out?”
I consider that for a minute, peering back inside. “Yeah. I mean, I think that the house has good bones. But there is just a ton of crap inside.”
“Yeah. I’m thinking of backing my truck up here on the lawn so we can get rid of all those newspapers. The dishwashers, though…”
I lean against the house. “Anything that has to go to the dump, you can just pay to have it all hauled away by the regular trash guys. I think you just call them to arrange it.”
“Hmm,” he says, nodding. “Should we get a start on the newspapers?”
“Yeah. If you want to pull your truck up, I’ll start moving stacks of them onto the porch.”
“Word.” He jumps off of the porch, and I head inside.
I grab a bunch of newspapers off of the nearest pile, hauling them outside. I glance at Asher, who is backing up his truck. He’s been pretty quiet about where he’s been recently, but he’s definitely been somewhere other than here.
It’s a little weird, because I feel like I’ve been here, hanging around. Waiting for Asher to confide in me again, like we used to in the old days.
I mean, I even broke things off with Emma, thinking that Asher would find out and be really upset. But of course, he hasn’t even been around enough to find out anything…
He’s been really self-involved lately. With Evie, apparently, according to his own drunk confession. I’m not sure that he even remembers his little drunk confession, or that he was heartbroken over Evie.
Something bad must have happened between them… but judging by the fact that Asher hung out for a couple weeks and then vanished, I would guess that it has been resolved.