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Well, it was official. He was officially a low-life piece of shit. Right before he was set to do the horizontal bone-dance with his long-lost smoke of a college hookup, Jordan had dropped the boyfriend bomb on him. She was not single, but her boyfriend was out of the country on vacation. They were still together…but they had been having some problems. His drunken brain was fuzzy and focused only on her nearly-unclothed body as she laid in his bed and broke the news. Had this realization stopped him from crossing the finish line a mere 11 minutes after finding out she was spoken for? Negative.
Jordan had always been a little sketchy. I mean, hooking up with your sorority sister’s boyfriend at your senior formal was pretty indicative of where her own personal morals stood. The same went for him. Years ago, he was just a horny and stupid undergrad, drunk on Montezuma and looking for a thrill. He really did care about Macy then, and he even kind of did now, but sometimes his smaller head got the best of him.
He had been on a drunken bender all of last weekend, starting with that fateful day at the pool. He had worked up some courage with a few cold beers, and crossed the pool to say hello. She had squealed and jumped into his arms with a hug, and he knew he was done for.
With the mention of Jordan’s name, all of his friends decided to join him on his drunken quest. They desperately wanted him to get over Macy, and felt that getting under Jordan would help his case. Unfortunately, nobody thought to double check the spicy redhead’s Instagram feed, because if they did, they would have seen very recent photos of her and her beau, enjoying a family vacation in Turks and Caicos just two short weeks ago.
He had been suffering from a mild guilt-hangover for a few days. He knew he was wrong for going through with it. But she didn’t care. He didn’t really care, either. Clearly they needed to break up, anyway. But now that she had gone back home and stopped texting him and Snapchatting him every few minutes, he slowly resigned himself to this weird feeling of discomfort and unease. Not really about her boyfriend and the fact that he played a pivotal role as a homewrecker, but because of Macy. What would she do if she found out about Jordan?
In Macy’s mind, Jordan was the villain. I mean, he was absolutely the villain, too, but the unspoken and seething hatred the “other woman” and the scorned girlfriend have against one other is a tale that will last to the ends of the earth. Somehow, shitty boyfriends were easier forgiven than the slutty girl who “stole him away.”
Now he was back to square one. One fun weekend hadn’t fixed his boredom. It hadn’t fixed the void he felt. He couldn’t exactly place a finger on it. Was it Macy who was supposed to fix it for him? If so, he prayed she never found out about his reunion with Jordan. But knowing his luck, that cat wouldn’t stay in the bag for long. .