Jessa James - Bad Reputation

At one point, when he’s bent over the paper and scrawling out his answer, I sigh. It is a sort of longing sound, totally accidental and not really provoked by any one particular thing.

It’s just Jameson, as a whole. Watching him do anything is pretty pleasurable, but watching him learn something new? Something that I can help him with?

It’s almost swoon-worthy. So I sigh.

He looks up at me, and I turn pink. Busted.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I respond, shaking my head. “Nothing, go on.”

“You’re being weird,” he says.

“No, I’m not.” I take a sip of my latte, as if that will save me from my own awkwardness.

“You are!” he insists. He puts the pen down. “Why are you being weird?”

“Jameson—” I start, annoyed that we’re even having this conversation.

He gives me a hard look. I squirm a little bit in my chair. He drops his voice.

“You know, just because we’re not fucking each other anymore, that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me. I’m still the same person.”

My face turns scarlet in an instant. “Jameson, you just… you are not following the proper breakup protocol in the least.”

His eyebrows rise. “There is a protocol?”

I scowl. “Yes! And you are just like… walking all over it, like it’s not even a thing. But trust me, it exists for a reason.”

“The protocol?”

“Yes!”

There is a second where he pauses. I can see him doing some kind of calculation, and coming up frustratingly short.

“I guess I don’t know what the rules are, when you’re… you know, not seeing each other any more,” he admits.

“Well, that’s obvious.” I feel like a grouch when I say it, but it’s true.

“What is it that you want me to do, then?”

He looks at me, his face as serious as death. I deflate like a balloon under his gaze.

“I don’t know. I mean…” I look down at my hands. “It just feels like… like nothing has changed.”

My eyes mist over unexpectedly, and I’m beyond embarrassed.

“That’s a good thing, right?” he asks.

“No!” I cry, louder than I intend. The barista looks over at me, and I cringe. But even so, I can’t stop myself from talking. “You don’t understand, Jameson. You— you broke my heart!”

He freezes in place, his face shocked. “I— I mean, I didn’t mean to, Emma. I swear.”

He reaches out to touch my hand, and I yank my hand off the table. Standing up, angry and hurt, I start to leave.

“Whoa, whoa, Emma,” Jameson says, jumping up and blocking my exit with his big body. “Just wait a second.”

My eyes are brimming with unshed tears. My voice is barely above a whisper. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am. Everything was my fault, okay?”

“It’s not okay! I’m here, even though I don’t want to be, doing you a favor. And you’re invading my space and blocking me from leaving…”

One tear breaks free, snaking its way down my cheek unchecked. His expression is anguished.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t,” he pleads with me. “I’ll try to follow the rules, okay? Anything you say, I’ll do.”

I brush the tear from my cheek, taking a deep breath. His guilty expression twists at my heart. Now I feel bad for making him feel bad.

“Let me think about it. I… I want to tutor you, like it was before, but…” I shake my head, looking down. “I’m still hurting.”

“I’ll give you time, if that’s what you need,” he says. “Just… please don’t say you can’t see me anymore, socially.”

I look up at him. “I said I’ll think about it. That’s all I can give you right now.”

He sighs and shrugs a shoulder. “That’s all I can ask, then.”

He moves back, letting me go. I get out of there as quickly as possible, practically running past the barista and out the front door. I don’t slow down until I get to my car.

I slide behind the wheel, my heart pounding.

I don’t know if I can see him again.

But at the same time, how can I refuse?

I throw my car into drive and pull out, tires squealing.

5

I climb out of my Jeep at the diner that my brother Forest suggested. Shading my eyes against the midday sun, I wish that I hadn’t had that last drink the night before. I’m definitely hungover.

I adjust my Ray-Ban sunglasses and head into the diner. The place is a little greasy spoon that Forest loves, painted bright orange inside and out. We eat here from time to time, but the owner always remembers us.

“Jameson!” she howls when I step inside. She’s manning the grill, wearing her usual all-black outfit, and grinning ear to ear.

“Hey there Ms. Parker,” I say with a nod.

I’m not even concerned about the fact that she got my name a little bit wrong. The fact is, she remembers almost everybody that comes in here, and that’s pretty fucking impressive.

Ms. Parker points to the booth in the far corner, where Forest is already sitting. I give her a wave and head over there, sliding into there booth opposite my brother.

“Yo,” I greet him. “What’s up?”

Forest sips his coffee, then makes a contented sound. “Not much.”

The waitress comes over, and I order a coffee and their crawfish etouffee omelet. Forest orders french fries and scrambled eggs.

As I add some sugar to my black coffee, I study my brother. He has been to the barber recently, because his hair is cropped very close to his scalp. Always way more preppy than I’ve ever been, even today on his day off he has shaved.

“How are my investments doing, oh magical money maker?” I kid.

He considers that for a second. “Good. Actually, that’s part of what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask. I sip my coffee. It’s thick and black, just the way I like it.

“Yeah. You know how the apartment you and Asher live in is a duplex?”

“Mmm, I think the other side is full of… I don’t know, the owner’s stuff.” The owner is an older man in his seventies, and he doesn’t come around much these days.

“Well, Asher put out a feeler, just to see if the owner would be interested in selling him the place.”

“Really?” I’m a little surprised that Asher didn’t tell me about it, being that I’m supposedly his roommate and best friend.

“Yep. He just heard back, and the landlord is more than happy to get it off his hands.”

“Huh.” I consider that.

“My point in telling you this is that I think you and Asher should go in on the house together. Then you can each live in one half, or rent it out, or whatever you want to do. The place is a steal, only like $200,000. Split two ways, that’s really really reasonable.”

“Huh,” I say again. I drum my fingertips on the laminate countertop. “Can I afford that?”

“Easily. And it will build equity for you too. I think it’s a really solid idea.”

“Cool,” I say with a shrug. “Yeah, why not?”

“Well, I just want to make sure that there’s nothing weird between you guys before I bring the idea up to him. I mean, it’s almost a no-brainer for you.”

I give him a slow nod, thinking about Emma. She would definitely qualify as ‘something weird” between me and Asher, but Asher doesn’t know about it. I broke it off because of Asher, because of how he would act if he ever found out.

I sigh. “Yeah, there is nothing weird between us.”

At least not anymore.

“Well, I figure that you’ll eventually settle on one girl. And rumor has it, girls don’t love their men to have roommates, even if they’re as close as you guys are.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that a statement about your personal life?”