Bad Influence

by Charleigh Rose

  “Anyone ever tell you, you have the taste buds of an eighty-year-old?” Jesse asks, coming up behind me. When the hell did he get here?

  “Let me guess. You’re a cherry fan.” Everyone loves cherry. “Such a cliché.”

  “I’ve been known to enjoy a few cherries in my day,” he agrees suggestively, throwing an arm around my shoulders. Gross. “But my favorite happens to be strawberry.”

  He plucks the sucker from my mouth, then sticks it into his own. My eyes follow the movement, and I have to peel them away. My stomach swirls at his nearness.

  “There’s a whole bowl right there,” I point out. “Get your own.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He winks then bites into it, eating the whole thing. Lo looks between us with her arms crossed, a mix of suspicion and amusement in her narrowed eyes. I stand from my stool, putting some distance between us. I wipe my greasy hands on the black apron tied around my waist before grabbing my plate.

  “Break’s over.” The last thing I need is for Lo, or anyone for that matter, thinking there’s something going on between Jesse and me.

  “By the way, we’re leaving early,” Lo calls after me. I turn to face her.

  “On a Friday?” I ask, confused.

  “One of Dare’s friends from out of town showed up this morning, so we’re going to have some people over tonight.”

  “Oh, cool. I can stay with my friend Dylan tonight—”

  “Why would you do that?” Lo cuts me off. Her eyebrows pull together in confusion at the same time Jesse’s eyes harden.

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  Lo throws her head back, laughing, before she walks over to me, throwing an arm around my neck. “She doesn’t want to intrude,” she mocks, putting emphasis on the word intrude. Jesse smirks, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “It’s a kick-back, Allie, not a private meeting. And by we, I meant you and me. Jake’s closing tonight. It’s time you meet the family.”

  I give her a skeptical smile. Why does it sound like I’m about to be jumped into a gang, or introduced to the mob?

  “Unless you’ve got better things to do,” Jess taunts, no doubt sensing my unease. The creases in his forehead deepen as he waits for my response.

  Challenge accepted.

  “Nope. I’m wide open.” I shrug. “Sounds fun.”

  “We’re out of here in an hour,” Lo announces before smacking a kiss to my cheek.

  Jesse’s eyes bore into me until Lo’s out of sight, and we’re locked in some silent staring contest. I don’t know what it’s about, but I do know that I won’t be the one to back down. I stare right back, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly. Jesse breaks first, huffing out an amused laugh. He moves past me, his chest skimming my folded arms as he leans in close to my ear. I hold my breath, suppressing the shiver that’s fighting its way through me, but my traitorous heart doesn’t get the message. “See you at home.”

  “How do you know my brother?” Lo asks, looking over at me from the driver’s seat.

  “What?” I ask, thrown off by her question.

  She lifts a shoulder. “I’ve noticed the way you two go back and forth. It just seems like you guys have known each other for a while.”

  “We met briefly a couple months ago, but we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.” That’s putting it lightly, but she doesn’t need to know the sordid details.

  “Ah,” she says, nodding. “He’s a good kid once you get to know him. The only thing bigger than his ego is his heart.”

  I laugh, knowing the ego part is true at least.

  “He’s been dealt a shit hand in life,” she goes on, seemingly lost in her thoughts. “He’s sort of in a weird place right now.” She swings into the driveway, cutting the engine and then looking over at me. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you guys were cool.”

  “We’re fine,” I assure her, keeping my tone light.

  “Good,” she says with a nod, but I get the feeling that she’s worried about him for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that he seems to have dropped out of school. Maybe it’s because he disappears for days at a time. Maybe it’s because his mood seems to flip-flop more often than I change my underwear. “Now let’s go inside.”

  As soon as I open the door to hop out of her SUV, I hear music coming from inside the house. We make our way to the front door and Lo pushes it open, revealing a house full of people, some I recognize, some I don’t.

  “Come on,” she says, pushing me between my shoulder blades and closing the door behind us. A guy with tan skin, full lips, and a mischievous grin notices our arrival first. He breaks away from his conversation with a blonde girl who sits on the lap of a guy who has his hand tucked between her thighs, as if anchoring her to the spot.

  “Hey, Lo-Lo,” he says, pulling her into his arms for a tight hug.

  “Try again,” Lo says, immediately shutting him down.

  He laughs. “Still working on a nickname for you,” he says with a shrug.

  “Work harder. Because that one is not happening.”

  “Noted. You brought me a present?” he says, looking me up and down with brown eyes so light they appear golden. He’s gorgeous. And clearly trouble.

  “She’s too young for you,” Lo says, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “She’s staying with us for a while. Adrian, this is Allison. Allison, this is Adrian. He likes to sporadically show up unannounced to piss Dare off.”

  “Allison and Adrian. We already sound good together,” he says, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips.

  “Oh, you’re good.” I laugh, pulling my hand back. For some reason, his brand of flirting doesn’t put me on edge like Jesse’s does. Maybe because it’s so overt that I know it’s all in good fun. Or maybe it’s because you haven’t been near naked with him between your thighs.

  Lo grabs ahold of my hand, tugging me away from Adrian. I follow her lead toward the kitchen. She grabs two beers out of the fridge, handing me one before she’s being pulled into another hug. This time by the blonde girl I saw when I walked in.

  “No baby tonight?” Lo asks, leaning a hip against the counter.

  Blonde Girl inhales deeply. “My mom’s in town. It’s our first time leaving him. I don’t know who’s more worried, Ash or me.” She looks over toward the couch at the guy she was sitting on before who’s sitting there bouncing his knee as he takes a swig from his beer. “Twenty bucks says he’s going to check the time on his phone in five, four, three, two…”

  Sure enough, he digs into his black jeans pocket before pulling his phone out and flipping it over, glaring at the screen.

  “Wow.” Lo laughs. “Daddy Asher is not fucking around.”

  “I’m Briar, by the way,” she says to me, her smile as warm and bright as fucking sunshine.

  “Allison,” I say, shaking her hand.

  “Where’s Dare?” Lo questions, scanning the living room. There’s a guy in swim shorts with tattoos from his neck to his ankles, another guy who looks like him without as many tattoos, and a couple of brunettes, but no Dare in sight.

  “Do you really have to ask?” Briar laughs, grabbing another beer from the fridge. “He’s hiding upstairs.”

  I’m not the least bit surprised by that. Dare is about as sociable as I am. The only difference is, he doesn’t try to be polite about it. He’s unapologetically anti-social.

  Briar returns to her spot on the guy’s lap, and I almost laugh at the sight. It’s like seeing an angel perched atop the Grim Reaper. A really attractive Grim Reaper.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lo says, heading for the stairs. I nod, standing awkwardly at the counter for all of ten seconds before I decide to head out back for some fresh air. I slip out the sliding door unnoticed, the cool night air hitting my face. Spring is coming, but the nights are still cold. Thankfully, no one else is out here. I rub the chill out of my upper arms, walking across the deck to the set of table and chairs. I scroll through my phone and see a
missed call from my mom. I stare at the notification for a minute before finally tapping on it. I’m surprised when she answers almost instantly.

  “Hi, honey,” she says in that sing-song voice of hers.

  “Hi, Mom. You called?” I pluck a bottle cap from the table, absentmindedly spinning it.

  “How’s school? How are you liking the lake house?”

  Alarm bells ring in my mind. My mom doesn’t do small talk unless she wants something.

  “It’s fine.” It’s not like I need to lie to my mom about where I’m staying. What can she do from Hawaii? But for reasons I don’t even want to analyze, I don’t want her knowing. It’s easier this way.

  “That’s nice,” she croons. “Can you hear the waves?” she asks. “It’s so peaceful here.”

  “Mhm.” I won’t make the mistake of inviting myself there again. I wait for her to get to the point of the phone call, but when she asks generic question after generic question, I start to think maybe she really did just call to check in and see how things are going. That maybe this is her making a genuine effort. My mom and I, despite our monumental differences, are…fine. Not particularly tight, but not necessarily distant either. She loves me in her own way. I never doubted that. We just don’t click. My dad and I clicked. We were two peas in a pod from day one. But now, with all things considered, if she’s trying, then maybe I should, too.

  I relax, leaning my back against the canvas cushion of the chair, propping my Docs up on the edge of the table. “How’s Hawaii?” I ask, then cringe at my lame attempt at making conversation.

  “It’s perfect,” she says with a dreamy voice, and I try to ignore the way my stomach twists at her words. Perfect. As in, she’s perfectly happy without me. “I do need a favor, though.”

  And there it is.

  “What?” I ask tightly, my guard creeping back into place like a coat of armor.

  “I seem to have misplaced my divorce papers,” she says sheepishly. I roll my eyes. My mom lost something? How unlike her.

  “Shocker.”

  “I was thinking, when you go through—”

  “I told you I’m not ready to go through Dad’s things yet,” I snap, feeling myself shutting back down at the direction this conversation has taken. My dad’s entire life has been reduced to a pile of boxes in my grandparents’ garage. I know I need to go through them, but every time I think I’m ready, something holds me back.

  Mom sighs, and I can picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. I can almost bet that she’ll be self-medicating her impending “migraine” in the form of a joint right after this phone call. “Allie, it’s been almost a year. It’s time. I know you don’t like talking about him, but you have to heal, baby. I miss him, too.”

  I scoff, shaking my head. “He might have been another notch in your bedpost, but he was my dad. It’s not exactly something you just get over.” It’s cruel, but it’s true. My mom is addicted to love, and James Parrish was just her drug of choice for a short time.

  “Don’t say that,” she admonishes. “I loved—”

  “I have to go.”

  “Allie—”

  I hang up the phone before she can throw some cliché, hippie-dippy bullshit quote my way, like the only way to get over the pain is to go through the pain. I toss my phone down. Bracing my elbows on the edge of the table, I use both hands to push my hair back and out of my face and take a deep breath.

  “So stupid,” I mutter to myself. I can’t believe I almost fell for her act. She’s not interested in a relationship with me. She’s still the same old self-serving, self-involved person she’s always been. How silly of me to think the death of my father would have changed things.

  A faint crunching sound catches my attention and I whip my head around, seeking out the source. Along the black iron fence that separates the sand from the yard stands a form that I recognize, even with the pitch-black sky as the only backdrop. A beer bottle hangs from one hand and the cherry from his cigarette seems to float in the dark as he brings it to his mouth with the other hand. He sucks, causing it to burn brighter. I can tell he’s facing me, but he says nothing as he watches me…watching him. How long has he been there? More importantly, how much did he hear?

  I look back toward the glass door where everyone is drinking and laughing and having a good time. I should go back inside, but after that little chat with my mother, the last thing I feel like doing is socializing with a bunch of strangers. Then I glance back over my shoulder at Jesse. He flicks his cigarette to the ground before stomping it out, then bends over to pick up the case of beer at his feet. “Wanna get out of here?”

  I know it’s not a good idea. Encouraging him will only blur the lines, and boys like Jesse need boundaries. Very clear, very bold, written in stone, type of boundaries. Even as I tell myself all the reasons I should turn around and go back inside, I move toward him, unable to resist the pull. Call it morbid curiosity.

  “What, no headphones tonight?”

  “Ha-ha,” I deadpan, but in reality, I did consider running upstairs to grab my CD player before I came out here, but the benefits didn’t outweigh the risk involved. “Where are we going?”

  Jesse unlatches the gate with one hand and steps onto the sand. I chew on my lip and look back toward the house, second-guessing my decision to bail on Lo. Technically, she bailed first.

  “She’ll be occupied for a while,” Jesses says, reading my thoughts. “Trust me. She won’t even notice you’re gone.”

  I snort. He’s probably right.

  “Grab a blanket,” he instructs, pointing the beer bottle in his hand toward a teal and black striped blanket with white fringe on the ends that’s thrown across one of the chaise loungers. I cock an eyebrow.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s to sit on.”

  “Right.” I pluck the blanket from the chaise, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Lead the way,” I say, sweeping a hand out in front of me. He tosses his empty bottle toward the grassy area, then grabs two more, handing me one.

  We sip our beers, walking in silence, with the angry waves in the lake as the only sound. The cold sand gets inside my boots, and I stop, handing Jesse my beer. He holds both our bottles in the same hand as I kick off my boots. I bend over to peel my black knee-high socks off before stuffing them inside my shoes. When I straighten, Jesse is staring at my exposed legs. His eyes flick up to mine and he shrugs, as if to say, You caught me. So, what?

  “There’s a spot right up here.”

  I nod, following his lead. It’s so much different than I expected. The lake itself looks big enough to be an ocean, but the sand is rough against my feet, as opposed to the fine, soft sand I’m used to. And instead of palm trees and little shops, there’s nothing but pine trees and wooded areas behind us. Eventually, he peels the blanket from my shoulders before spreading it out onto the sand. Goosebumps break out across my naked arms, but the alcohol is creeping in slowly, starting to warm me from the inside out.

  Jesse sits first, his elbows propped on his bent knees, the brown bottle dangling between them as he stares out onto the dark lake. I drop my boots onto the sand before sitting next to him, hugging my knees and looking up at the sky. “I’ll never get used to that.”

  Jesse follows my gaze. “What, the stars?”

  “Yeah. You don’t see this in the city.”

  I pinch a handful of sand between my fingers, then let it sprinkle back to the ground, my chin resting on top of my knees.

  “Wanna tell me what that was about back there?” he asks, taking me by surprise. Leaning my cheek onto my knee, I look over at him, assessing.

  “What, I can’t ask questions?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

  “Not those kinds of questions.”

  “Okay. Let’s start small,” he says, cracking open another bottle. He holds one out for me in silent offering. I take it, feeling the condensation on my fingertips. “We’ll take turns.”

  “Sure.” I laugh.

  “There�
��s a catch,” he warns.

  “With you, I’m sure there always is.”

  Jesse cuts his eyes at me, mid-drink, but ignores my comment. “If you don’t answer, you have to drink.”

  I shrug. “Easy enough.”

  “I’m not talking favorite colors and shit either. Real shit. Shit no one else knows.”

  “Fine.”

  Jesse smirks, clanking his bottle to mine. “What’s with you and the emo kid?”

  “That’s what you start with?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Fine.” I roll my eyes. “If you’re referring to Dylan, he’s a friend and only a friend.”

  “Has he always been only a friend?”

  “My turn,” I say, ignoring his question. I know exactly what I want to ask him. I don’t want to start off too personal in case he follows suit, but I can’t bring myself to wait. “Why aren’t you in school anymore?”

  Jesse works his jaw, a dark look clouding over his features, making me instantly regret asking him. “Got kicked off the lacrosse team.”

  “Why?”

  “My turn,” he says, throwing my words back in my face. “Do you ever fantasize about that night?”

  I don’t miss how he deflects by turning the conversation to something sexual in nature, but I feel my cheeks burn nonetheless, and I’m grateful to the night sky for concealing it. Instead of answering him, I tip the bottle to my lips, drinking the entire thing. I throw the empty bottle onto the sand and turn back to find Jesse looking at me with heat in his eyes, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

  “I guess I got my answer. I do, too, if you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t,” I lie. “Where do you disappear to?”

  Jesse narrows his eyes at me before opting to chug instead.

  “Interesting,” I muse, trying to act nonchalant, when in reality, his reluctance to tell me only makes me more curious.

  “What’s up with the CD player?”