Jessa James - Bad Reputation

And I’m left in my bedroom, alone, sobbing over him.

What am I going to do?

2

I curl into a ball on my bed, among the messy sheets, and bawl like a baby. Not pretty crying, although I’m not sure there is even such a thing. No, I cry ugly tears, my face red and puffy, with snot running everywhere. I’m not quiet about it either. I sob into one of my pillows and make great big gasping sounds.

I’m feeling bereft. I keep replaying what Jameson said to me, standing here in the doorway.

“We were never in a relationship!! At best, we had a fling. And now, it’s over .”

That hurts more than anything else he could have said. Because he’s right about one thing… we never defined the thing between us, never gave it a name. Clearly what I thought was so amazing and earth shattering, Jameson thought was nothing more than a fling .

Maybe Asher is right. Maybe Jameson really is bad news, running through women like a hot knife through butter.

It definitely didn’t feel that way when I looked into Jameson’s eyes, but… I’m starting to question every single moment we were together, every impulse and thought that I had.

I think about Asher again, about his stupid rule and his weird hold on Jameson. Obviously I have missed something in their history together, because Jameson is so devoted to Asher… and Asher seems not to notice.

My tears dry up, until I remember that my period is late. Somehow, in all the breaking up madness, I’ve managed to completely dismiss the most important fact of all.

I could be pregnant with Jameson’s child.

The potential ramifications of that fact echo through my brain. I can’t even begin to cope with that. The uncertainty is killing me.

So I drag myself out of bed, putting on a pair of dark yoga pants and a billowy tee shirt that says GUCCI. I am sure that my face still looks puffy, and my outfit is thrown together from the bottom of my closet…

But at least I’m not crying right now, in this moment. After slipping on a pair of dark blue Converse, I open the door to my bedroom.

I surprise Evie, who is in front of my bedroom door, about to knock. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a baggy Hilary 2016 hoodie.

“Hey…” she says, her brown eyes wide. “I thought I heard you crying. You seem… maybe not okay?”

I glance down at myself, and my chin starts to wobble again. My eyes well up instantly, and I shake my head.

“I got dumped… and I might be pregnant,” I say, my words tremulous as my face collapses in tears.

“Whoa, whoa,” Evie says, her brow furrowing. She pulls me into her arms, hugging me tightly. “That’s… a lot. Here, come with me into the kitchen.”

I let Evie guide me down the hallway, into the tiny kitchen. She sits me down in one of the chairs at the table, and hands me a clean dish towel. I wipe at my face with it, feeling stupid.

“I’ll make us some herbal tea,” she says. “And you can start telling me what happened.”

She goes to fill the kettle up. I am sitting in one of our hard-backed kitchen chairs, trying to control my crying. Evie doesn’t press me further. She just reaches in the cupboards for two mugs and the box of tea bags, going about it as though I wasn’t even present.

For some reason, that calms me down a little. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing for a few minutes. The kettle whistles, the noise brash and loud. When I open my eyes again, Evie is pouring boiling water into two mugs.

“Here, it’s a citrus chamomile blend,” Evie says, depositing a mug before me. “It’s really comforting, I think. I’ve been going through sachet after sachet the last few weeks.”

I curl my hands around the mug, feeling the warmth of its contents. I peer inside, and see a yellowish curl blossoming at the bottom of the cup. I squint. I’m trying to piece together something that Evie has just said, about using a lot of sachets and comfort…

“So… you want to tell me more about the breakup? Or would you rather start with the pregnancy?” Evie says, cool as a cucumber. She looks off into the distance for a moment. “Wait, let’s just start with the breakup first.”

I blink at her, but she just blows on her mug of tea. “Umm… okay…”

She studies me, her eyes warm. “I’m guessing that it was with Jameson?”

I wipe a tear from the corner of one eye, nodding. “Yeah.”

“That figures. He’s a rat bastard, for what it’s worth.”

That draws a strange noise from me, something like a mix between a chuckle and a grunt.

Evie takes a moment to dunk her tea bag a few times, then takes a sip. “Mmm. Alright, so. How long have you guys been hooking up?”

I clear my throat, twisting the tea bag’s string around. “About two months. Maybe a little more.”

“And was it serious? I mean, of course it was serious, because look at you. But like… did you guys… use boyfriend and girlfriend, or like… say I love you?”

I shake my head, unable to look up from the table. “No.”

She wrinkles up her face, thinking. “But you felt deeply, I am guessing.”

“Yeah. I mean, I definitely felt like…” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “I felt like I’d found that one person who just… gets it. Or gets me? I don’t know. Maybe everyone that you have sex with is supposed to be like that, but—”

“Wait, you gave him your virginity?” Evie asks. Her brows shoot up. “Damn, girl.”

I take a minute with that, sipping my tea. It is sort of comforting, the citrus flavor and herbal scent.

“I’ve been in love with Jameson for years,” I finally admit. It’s kind of a relief, saying it out loud to someone. “Like, ever since I was old enough to have dirty dreams. I kind of always thought, in the back of my head, that we would get together. I planned to give him my v-card since I was fifteen, before I even knew what that really entailed.”

Evie’s eyes go so wide, it’s almost comical. “Wait, you were like… saving yourself for Jameson?”

I shrug, blushing. “Yeah, I was. I mean, it wasn’t intentional for the last couple of years. But when I started to get ‘ I’m attracted to you ’ signals off of him, I sort of… I really, really wanted to make it happen.”

“Girllllll,” she says, excited. “I can’t believe you’ve had a thing for him for so long! And I can’t believe I didn’t know about it.”

I bite my lip and shrug a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter, because of Asher.”

She sits up a little straighter. “Asher? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Asher made up this stupid rule ages ago. He told Jameson and Forest and Gunnar not to sleep with me. Actually, he’s told Gunnar several times to back off, because Gunnar is…” I search for the right word.

“A slut?” Evie’s mouth curls upward.

“Yeah. Anyway, that rule has existed since I got boobs, I think. Because clearly I can’t make my own decisions about who I sleep with. If it wasn’t for the rule, I would just fall into bed with every guy I see!” I say sarcastically. “Meanwhile, Asher has no rules about who he can sleep with or date.”

Evie looks down at the table, tracing something absentmindedly. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

“Thank you! It isn’t.” I sit back, trying to reach for my righteous indignation, but it’s not there. I’m too busy being sad for any other emotions to register.

“So… are you ready to talk about the other thing yet?” she says gently.

My heart starts hammering just thinking about it. I give her a slow nod. “Yeah, I think so. I just… I’m on an IUD.”

She cocks her head. “And yet you think you might be pregnant?”