Bad Influence

by Charleigh Rose

  I fumble around, finding it tangled in my sheets. “What?” I answer, without even checking the screen. My voice sounds rough as fuck, like I smoked eighty packs of cigarettes last night, and I clear my throat.

  “Wake up, fucker,” says Dare, my sister’s boyfriend.

  “What time is it?” I scrub a hand down my face.

  “Noon. Your sister needs you at Blackbear. One of her servers quit and Sutton’s out of town.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Because she needs your help,” Dare says in that calm, yet menacing tone of his. “You owe her this at least.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing this is Dare’s way of forcing us to patch things up. I haven’t talked to my sister since storming out of their house. We’re both stubborn as fuck, but our wars don’t usually last long. In a life full of chaos and drama, Lo has been the one constant. It’s always been us against the world. When we’re at odds, everything feels off-kilter. I weigh my options. I could tell him no and keep this beef going. Or I could do her a solid and use this as a way to clear the air. Plus, I can’t pass up the opportunity to fuck with Allison if she happens to be there. Unless she’s the one who quit.

  “Time?” I grumble.

  “Now.” Then he hangs up. Yeah, he’s pissed at me.

  I stub out my blunt and snatch a towel from the back of a computer chair. I head for the shower, ignoring the voices trailing from downstairs. There’re always stragglers after a big party, and this morning is no exception. I take a piss, rubbing a hand across my chest as I take in my reflection. I have neon paint, lipstick, and glitter coating every inch of my torso. I jump into the shower and scrub that shit off in record time. I throw on a pair of black jeans and a white tee, then walk downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

  I take the last drag of my cigarette before putting it out in front of Blackbear. I’ve been stalling, but I have to face Lo sooner or later. She’s going to question me about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing in between leaving school and coming here. I fucking hate lying to her, but I can’t tell her that. She wouldn’t understand. It’s the one area in which we’ve never seen eye to eye.

  I push the door open, walking straight through the crowded dining area to the kitchen. A frazzled Lo stops in her tracks when she sees me, a tray in each hand, lopsided ponytail, and hair in her face. She cocks her head to the side. “What are you doing here?” she asks, suspicion lacing her tone.

  “Dare said you needed help,” I supply. I should’ve known he didn’t tell her. Lo has way too much pride to ask for help. There’s no way she’d let Dare do it on her behalf.

  “Well, he lied. You can go back to your downward spiral, or whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing.” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she walks away, dropping plates off at her tables. When she comes back to the kitchen, I see a flash of hurt in her eyes, and I know I put it there. It’s the main reason I didn’t come back to River’s Edge right away.

  I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up.”

  She appears to weigh her options before her shoulders sag. She closes the distance between us and pulls me in for a hug, and I squeeze her back for a second before we both let go.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I know.”

  “We’re going to talk about this later.”

  “I know,” I repeat.

  She tosses me a rag before turning around to grab a big gray tub, then shoves it into my abs. I grunt, curling my fingers around the sides.

  “Now go bus some tables.”

  * * *

  “APPARENTLY, THESE EGGS WERE SUPPOSED to be over easy,” I say, pressing up on my toes to see through the pass-through window into the kitchen. “Sorry, Pete.” I wince. The lady at table seven ordered scrambled, but changed her mind, and Grumpy Pete’s the only one back here, cooking for a full house.

  “Not what the ticket says,” Pete grumbles.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” I say again.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  I tap my fingers against the counter, keeping my body close to the counter in the narrow walkway to let the other servers by. I feel heat against my back, and before I can react, a low “boo” is whispered into my ear. I lean forward as much as I can, jerking my head to see who I already know is behind me.

  “Jesse,” I greet, my voice flat.

  “Try to contain your enthusiasm, Allie Girl.” He smirks down at me. He smells like a distillery mixed with lingering traces of smoke, but there’s a faint, familiar scent underneath it—his soap or maybe his shampoo. It takes me back to the night at the dorm, and an image of his mop of dark hair nuzzling against my chest and my nipple in his mouth pops into my mind, unbidden. I push it away, along with the embarrassment that never ceases to follow whenever I think about it.

  I shift to the side, wishing my order was up. How long does it take to fry a freaking egg?

  “Are you stalking me now?” He has the audacity to ask. I look over at him, rolling my eyes.

  “I work here,” I deadpan. “If anyone’s stalking, it’s you.”

  “Nah. My sister called in a favor. Spending time with your cheery self is just an added bonus.”

  I send Jesse a bratty smile, and finally Pete slides the plate of eggs toward me. I don’t waste any time snatching it up. “Thanks, Pete!” Pete grunts in response.

  I avoid Jesse as much as I can for the rest of my shift, even though my eyes are begging to disobey me, seeking him out of their own volition. I can’t seem to escape him. Is this how it’s going to be now that he’s back? I still don’t know why he’s back. Lo hasn’t mentioned it, and there’s no way in hell I’m asking questions. She doesn’t even know I know him.

  At the end of the day, I shoot a quick text to Dylan, letting him know my shift is over. He’s supposed to meet me here once I’m off. I stuff my phone into my pocket and head into the back room to grab my bag, but I halt in the hallway, hearing Jesse’s voice.

  “Does it matter?” he asks, irritation evident in his tone.

  “Does it matter where you’ve been disappearing to? Not really, no, but the fact that you won’t tell me says you’re in some kind of trouble.” That’s Lo, and she sounds exasperated.

  “Not in any trouble,” he clips out. “I don’t need rescuing anymore, Lo. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, you’re doing a real bang-up job, Jess. First, you mysteriously have enough money for a truck, then you’re dropping out of school? I’m missing something here. Fill in the blanks.”

  Jesse doesn’t respond, and then all of a sudden, he’s prowling out of the back room, heading straight toward me. I push off the wall, trying to act casual. Not expecting anyone to be lurking around the corner, he comes close to knocking me over but stops short, centimeters from me. His hands catch my upper arms, steadying both of us. I expect some sarcastic remark, something about trying to cop a feel, maybe, but it doesn’t come. I make the mistake of looking up. His tortured eyes meet mine for long seconds, his jaw clenched.

  Something in his eyes gives me pause. A flash of the human behind the persona. This is Jesse. The fun-loving, hotshot lacrosse player? That’s Shep. But then something shifts. Those eyes go vacant and a slow grin spreads over his face.

  “If you wanted to touch me again, all you had to do was ask.”

  Annnnd, there it is.

  “Not happening.” I roll my eyes, shoving past him. Lo is sitting at the small table, sorting through a stack of papers.

  “You okay?” I ask. I don’t want to pry, but I don’t want to be a jerk and not ask either.

  She huffs out a laugh. “Just another day in the life.”

  “What’s all that?” I ask, gesturing to her papers, grabbing my backpack off the hook.

  “I had the crazy idea of going back to school. It’s not like I’m not busy enough as it is.”

  “It’s not crazy at all. What do you want to go for?”

  “I need
to get my GED, for starters. Then I was thinking about maybe getting a business degree.”

  “Really? I’m taking some business courses at Kerrigan.”

  “No shit?” she asks, surprised.

  “Yeah, it’s more geared toward music management, though.”

  “I’d expect nothing less,” she says knowingly. I tend to monopolize the music selection here. In my defense, no one else seems to care all that much.

  “Well, don’t go finding some hotshot job anytime soon. I need you here.”

  I scoff. I don’t think she’ll have to worry about that. This town isn’t exactly booming with job opportunities. Plus, I like Lo and I like working here, despite recent developments. “Deal.”

  I leave Lo to it, making my way out to the dining area. Like magnets, my eyes are drawn to Jesse. He pushes a hand through his hair before digging his phone out of his pocket, scowling at the screen like it personally offended him. After overhearing the conversation between him and Lo, I’m even more confused than ever. Curious. And you know what they say about curiosity…

  Jesse pockets his phone and lifts his eyes to catch me staring. I fight the urge to look away. My gaze bores into him, but he’s looking at me just as intently. My teeth clamp down on my lip, ignoring the stirrings of…something I feel in my stomach.

  “Albert,” I hear Dylan say from my left, breaking the spell. I whip my head in his direction.

  “I didn’t see you come in,” I say, standing to hug him.

  “Can’t imagine why,” he deadpans, pulling me into his warmth. My eyebrows draw together in confusion as I pull back.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He sighs. “I just don’t like that fucker.” He flicks his chin.

  “Who, Jesse? You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Good.”

  “Is there something I should know?” I ask, legitimately confused.

  “You’re like my little sister, Al.” I huff out a laugh and look away. Your little sister that you made out with, I want to say. “I just want to make sure you’re… I don’t know. Safe.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask, changing the subject. I get the feeling Dylan feels a sense of responsibility toward me. I don’t know if it’s because he knew my dad or what, but I don’t want to be a burden on him, and I don’t want what we have to change. Back home, I didn’t have any real friends. I don’t want to lose him. I want things to go back to the way they were. Before the funeral.

  “Nah. I ate earlier.”

  I nod, feeling uncomfortable with Dylan for the first time in our relationship. Needing to break the awkwardness, I reach for his hand on top of the table. His dark eyes lift to mine through thick lashes.

  “Are we okay?” My voice sounds small even to my own ears, and I mentally kick myself for sounding like such a girl.

  Dylan frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

  Discomfort rolls through me at what I’m about to say. “We haven’t really talked about what happened—”

  “Don’t.” Dylan’s nostrils flare and he shuts his eyes. “You were grieving. I was upset. That’s all it was.”

  “Agreed,” I say firmly with a nod. “I don’t want it to change things.”

  “We’re fine. Listen, I gotta meet the band…” he trails off, dropping my hand before he stands.

  “Yeah, okay. Let me know when you play next?”

  “Sure. You need a ride?” I should say yes, but asking a favor from him feels weird right about now. I’ll call Halston to pick me up instead.

  “I’ve got one.”

  He gives me a brusque nod before turning to leave.

  When my marketing class is over, I slide my laptop into my backpack, then check my phone to see what Halston wants. I could hear my phone buzzing from my bag all through class. Three missed calls and one text.

  Halston: Call me after class. It’s important.

  I frown, typing out a quick response.

  Me: Everything okay?

  Halston: Someone snitched.

  Shit. I don’t need to ask for clarification. We knew this was a possibility. I hitch my backpack onto my shoulder and make my way across the small campus. When I get to the dorm room, Halston is sitting on her bed, legs crossed, puppy dog eyes directed at me.

  “What happened?” I ask, dropping my bag to the floor as I kick the door shut behind me.

  “Stephanie happened,” she mutters.

  “But Stephanie knows the deal,” I say, confused. Stephanie is the RA, and she has to know I’ve been staying here. She saw me in a towel, carrying my shower caddy down the hall, for fuck’s sake.

  “Apparently, someone complained, so she couldn’t look the other way anymore.”

  “Are you in trouble? I can tell them—”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. They just gave me a warning. I’m just worried about you.”

  “Well, thank fuck for that.” The last thing I want is for her to be punished for trying to help me out.

  “What are you going to do?”

  I shrug. “I’ll probably call Dylan.” I hate depending on him, but I have two more months before my grandparents’ vacation rental is free, and there’s no way I can afford to stay in a hotel. Halston wiggles her eyebrows at the mention of Dylan.

  “Can you take me with you?”

  I laugh, lifting my suitcase from the closet and plopping it on my bed. “If you want to live in a party pad with piss-sprinkled toilet seats and moldy food in the fridge, by all means…”

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll just visit,” she says, scrunching her nose in disgust. Truthfully, it’s not that bad. But not even her love for boys can outweigh her high-maintenance tendencies. Halston comes from a rich family, so I’m not sure why she even bothers with dorm living.

  Halston helps me throw most everything into my suitcase. I only fill my backpack with essentials—an extra outfit, toiletries, phone charger, and, of course, my trusty CD player.

  “I’ll be back for that,” I say, flinging my arm toward my suitcase.

  “You’ll be back every day,” she corrects.

  She throws her arms around me, smashing my face to her chest. “Can’t. Breathe.”

  “I wish you could stay.” She pouts after releasing me.

  “Halston,” I say, reaching up to grasp both of her shoulders. “Get it together. I’m moving out of the building, not out of the country.”

  “I know.” She rolls her eyes. “But I’m bored already.”

  “Call a boy,” I say dryly. “Better yet, call Sully.”

  “If you insist,” she says with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto her bed.

  Half an hour later, Halston’s dropping me off at Blackbear. I haven’t heard back from Dylan, so I figure I’ll wait here until he calls me back. I’ll just commandeer a booth, turn up my headphones, and work on an assignment that’s due next week.

  “What are you doing here?” Lo asks, looking up from the barstool, the chewed tip of her pen tapping against her chin.

  “Got some time to kill,” I explain, patting my backpack. “Mind if I steal a booth?”

  “Knock yourself out.” She laughs.

  “Thanks.”

  I find the booth in the most secluded part of the bar, set my stuff up, and open Photoshop. But for some reason, I can’t seem to focus on the project at hand—which happens to be a mock flyer for a non-existent band.

  I stare at the screen of my phone, considering calling my mom and coming clean about my living situation, but I can’t bring myself to pull the trigger. I’m not ready for the lecture and the guilt trip that is sure to come along with her help. My mom is one of those people who expects you to worship at her feet for the simplest of favors. She once gave me a ride to a concert in downtown LA, and I swear, I still hear about how she got stuck in traffic, and that it was what she got for trying to do something nice for someone.

  Never again.

  No, I won’t call her and beg for help, but calling just
to check in won’t hurt. Lying to her about my living situation has been easier than I expected. We’ve only spoken a handful of times since I’ve been here. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Before I can talk myself out of it, I scroll through my call log and click on her number. I play with the sugar packets on the table as her phone rings. And rings. And rings. Just when it’s about to go to voicemail, she picks up.

  “Hi, honey,” Mom sing-songs. Even though we don’t have the best relationship, her voice still feels like home. I can picture her sitting in a hammock, smoking weed, and meditating outdoors. My stomach twists in an unexpected way, and suddenly, I want to go home. I want LA sunshine and the beach and my home. Except, home isn’t there anymore.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just getting some homework done. Classes and work are kicking my ass.”

  “That’s great, sweetie,” Mom says in a distracted tone, and I know she’s already checked out of the conversation.

  “Yeah. Hey, I was thinking. What if I came and visited you guys? Spring Break is coming up soon.” You guys meaning Mom and her new boyfriend. My mom uses men as a life raft. I didn’t think this one would last more than a few weeks, but here we are, nine months later and they’re shacked up together.

  “I’m sure you’re busy living your life, Allison. I know I’d be living it up if I had a house on the water when I was your age.”

  “I want to,” I insist. Losing a parent at a young age has a way of making you hyperaware of your loved ones’ mortality. Even though we don’t always get along, she’s all I have left.

  My mom hesitates, telling me all I need to know. “Listen, we don’t have the house quite readyyet, and you know airfare to Hawaii is expensive, especially on such short notice…” She lists off her excuses. “Maybe once we’re settled, we can figure something out. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

  Ah, her favorite response. I huff out a humorless laugh. Being rejected by the person who brought you into this world feels like the worst kind of betrayal. “Sorry I called.”