Page 59 of Bad Reputation

“And yes, Jameson has pictures,” Gunnar adds. “He just doesn’t like to show them around.”

I look to Jameson. “You’d show them to me, wouldn’t you?”

“If that’s what you want.” Jameson looks extremely uncomfortable.

I bite my lip. “I want to know everything that there is to know about you. That means that I want to know about your past. Even the unpleasant parts.”

Jameson scoffs. “Alright.”

My eyes widen. “I mean it! I want to know it all.”

Just then the waiter brings our platters of fajitas and Gunnar’s burrito, each one sizzlingly hot and smelling like heaven. Eager for an interruption, Jameson pretends to be very interested in how the fajitas go together.

I make eye contact with Gunnar, who just shrugs and picks up a tortilla from the basket in the middle of the table.

“Where are you guys from? Like, I know that you’ve lived here for ages, but where are your parents from? And your parents parents?”

Jameson shoves a big tortilla with steak and peppers into his mouth, so that leaves Gunnar to pick up the slack.

“Uhhh… I think our dad was from Montana. Our mom, who knows.” Gunnar shrugs.

I take a tortilla, thinking. “Wait, so like… you have no idea if you even have other family? No one has done any research to see if you have any other grandparents or at least cousins floating around out there in the world?”

J and Gunnar shake their heads. I’m a little blown away.

“How is that possible? I mean, when your grandmother died, you didn’t even check to see if there was an aunt or an uncle out there?” I ask, growing a little frustrated.

“Nope,” Jameson says. He looks at his plate, avoiding eye contact with me.

“She’s right, you know,” Gunnar says, taking a sip of his drink. “I mean, not that we should have done anything differently. I know that you had a tough enough time as it was, Jameson. But we should do some poking around, see if there are cousins or something.”

Jameson seems unconvinced. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You could have a whole bunch of relatives and just not know it,” I say. “I’m imagining a whole room full of men that look exactly like you guys do.”

“Hmmmph,” is all Jameson will say on the subject.

I dig into my food, letting Gunnar and Jameson change the subject to what bars have opened recently in the area. I definitely won’t forget about this though…

I’m already making plans to find a historian who can search what little they know about their past. Maybe I’ll do it as a surprise, and then if I find anything worth knowing, I can present it to Jameson as a birthday present or something.

My relationship with Jameson and the fact that we haven’t confronted Asher yet is completely lost in the tumult of conversation for now.

22

Jameson

“What if I get stung again, though?” Emma says, wrinkling her nose.

I’m carrying the surf boards as we hit the beach. It’s almost three weeks from the last time I tried to get Emma on a surf board. She tried putting it off yet again, but I wouldn’t have it.

I need to surf, and so here we are. I squint at Emma as we walk down the beach in the early morning light. She’s wearing a dark blue bikini and carrying her wet suit; with her dark hair and tiny waist, I think she looks like she could easily be a movie star.

I don’t tell her that, though. I don’t want her to start thinking about her appearance, so I just comfort her fears instead.

“You’ll be fine,” I say, hefting the boards. “You’re going to surf today. I’m going to surf today. And then we’ll fuck like two bunny rabbits. Easy peasy.”

She pulls a face, but my words seem to have calmed her a little bit. “We’ll see about the surfing part. You have way more confidence than I do.”

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