Page 21 of Bad Reputation

I’m not mad about that, in itself. I’m just mad because I could be wrapped up in myself, wrapped up in Emma, if it wasn’t for the friendship I have with Asher.

Basically now I’m left wondering if I overreacted and shot myself in the foot over something he doesn’t even really care about. Asher gets out of the truck and lets the gate down, then heads up to the porch.

“Let me grab these really quick…” Asher says, moving the few stacks of newspapers I’ve already dragged out of the house into the truck.

Then we are both grabbing stacks of newspapers, hauling them outside, and tossing them into the back of the truck. For a while, I am happy enough to do it in silence, but after a bit I grow tired of the silence.

“Where have you been staying at for the last little while?” I ask, hauling a stack of newspaper up from the living room floor.

Asher falters a bit. “I didn’t realize that you’d noticed.”

I raise a brow. “You thought I wouldn’t notice when you all but disappeared from the house that we both live in?”

“Right.” He shakes his head. “I just sort of hoped that you would do what you always do, which is shack up with some surfer chick and not really pay as much attention to what I do.”

I pause. “You think that’s what I do?”

“I mean, yeah. That’s been your M.O. for a few years.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. “Alright, but aside from me. Why are you like… avoiding the house?”

He picks up a stack of newspapers, taking a moment to carry it outside and toss it. When he comes back, he wipes sweat from him brow.

“I’m not trying to. I just… I’ve been seeing this girl, and she is pretty obsessive about keeping things private.”

“You mean Evie, right?”

He looks a me, clearly surprised. “How do you know it’s Evie?”

I roll my eyes. “You told me when you were drunk. You called her a bitch, too.”

Asher frowns. “I am such a traitor when I’m drunk. I really shouldn’t have told you anything.”

I give him a look. “Dude, I’m the best friend you’ve got in the world. You can tell me anything.”

He looks away. “I know, but…”

I am more than a little offended. “What do you mean, but?”

He seems to realize that he has stepped into a no-go area. “Sorry. I just… I shouldn’t talk about it.”

I lift a pile of newspaper. “So that’s it, then? We were best friends, until a girl came between us?”

“It’s not like that. We’re still best friends—”

My face contorts. “Except that your girl comes first. Is that right?”

“Not in so many words.”

“This is bullshit,” I bite off, heading back outside. I throw the papers into his truck, disgusted. With him, but also with myself.

Asher follows me onto the porch. “You’ll understand when you meet the girl you’re supposed to be with.”

Emma flashes in my mind, first thing. I mean, Emma and I never got far enough for me to know for sure, but I’m still resentful as hell. I glare at him.

“And how do you know that I haven’t?” I challenge.

“Dude, you would know. You wouldn’t be able to shut up about it.”