Bad Influence

by Charleigh Rose

  Just before we break through to the front, I see a flash of a guy in blue shorts slamming to the hard ground. There’s no ring. No pad on the floor. This guy’s not even wearing gloves.

  “So that’s the big secret? Jess hangs out at some wannabe fight club?”

  “No,” I say, unsure if she can even hear me. “He’s the one they’re betting on.” Letting go of Sullivan’s hand, I barrel my way through until I’m front and center.

  “Allie!” Halston shouts, but I don’t listen.

  My stomach drops as I take in the sight of Jess dripping with sweat, in nothing but jeans and boots, fists blocking his face as he and another guy circle each other like sharks in a tank. Jesse’s hair falls over his forehead as he gives his opponent a taunting wink, motioning for him to come closer.

  The crowd grows rowdy, jostling me, and I chance a look behind me to find Halston and Sullivan even farther away.

  “Allie!” Sullivan’s voice thunders, his big body shoulder-checking people as he tries to clear a safe path for Halston. I whip back around just in time to see Jesse’s head snap toward the sound of my name. His eyes lock onto mine as shock morphs into anger.

  Blue Shorts takes the opportunity to strike while Jesse’s distracted, landing a punch to the jaw. Jesse jerks to the side with the force of the hit and I flinch as if I took the blow myself.

  “Jesse!” My voice is a guttural, desperate thing as I watch in horror as he hits the ground, his head bouncing off the concrete. My hands fly to my mouth, and I’m momentarily frozen to my spot. Blue Shorts lifts his arms, strutting around the invisible perimeter, gloating as the crowd roars.

  Snapping out of it, I rush forward, but Jesse holds a palm up, stopping me in my tracks. Sullivan’s suddenly at my back, his arm hooking around my waist before pulling me away.

  Jesse stands, dragging his forearm across his bloody mouth. He looks absolutely fucking feral.

  “Get her out of here,” he demands, pointing a finger at me. Sullivan’s suddenly at my back, his arm hooking around my waist, holding me in place. I grind my jaw, my irritation with his command warring with my concern for him. Sully walks us backwards, the crowd swallowing us whole. Halston grabs onto my hand once we get within arm’s reach, following us out.

  I can’t see Jess anymore from back here. I stand on my tiptoes, trying to spot him through gaps in the crowd, but all I can see are random flashes of flesh and the blue of his opponent’s shorts.

  Suddenly, the noise rises to a deafening level. The mob of people parts down the middle as Jesse prowls toward us, and I see Blue Shorts laid out on the ground behind him, unmoving. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing in front of me, his hand wrapping around my wrist as he pulls me away. I try snatching my wrist from his grasp, but he tightens his grip, tugging me toward a back door, Halston and Sullivan hot on our heels.

  He releases his hold on me, shoving the door to the back parking lot open. We’re only a couple of hours from home, but the air feels thick and warm here. Jesse turns to face me, running a bloodied hand through his hair.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Getting answers.”

  He huffs out a laugh, throwing his arms open wide. “Well, you got ’em.”

  “Hardly.” I still don’t know why. It doesn’t make any sense that he’d keep this from me. So he fights for money. Big deal. It’s better than where my mind went.

  I hear the heavy door behind me opening again, and I whip my head around to see a group of smiling people spill out into the parking lot. A guy in a wife beater and black jeans ambles toward us, slapping a stack of cash into Jesse’s open palm.

  “You had me worried there for a second,” he says, before turning to me. “Who’s this pretty little thing?” His eyes rake over my body. I cross my arms over my chest, sending him the dirtiest look I can muster.

  Jesse’s eyes meet mine, void of any emotion. “No one important.”

  Okay, ouch.

  I try to keep the hurt from showing on my face. Halston hooks an arm around my shoulders, and I feel Sullivan move in closer behind me, probably anticipating a fight.

  “Mhm,” the guy says, sounding unconvinced. Jess clenches his jaw, averting his eyes. I get the impression that this guy has some kind of power over him. He doesn’t bite his tongue for anyone.

  “Let’s go,” Jess says, moving past him, and we follow suit.

  “Hey, Jess!” he calls out after us. Jesse turns to look over his shoulder, frowning, and I follow his gaze to find the man in the wife beater smirking at him. “I’ll be in touch.”

  * * *

  I GLANCE OVER AT ALLIE in the passenger seat. She hasn’t said a word since I all but dragged her to my truck and told her to get in. The last thing I expected was for her to show up here. My two worlds collided tonight, and she doesn’t belong anywhere near this side of me.

  When I saw her standing there, looking like a goddamn lamb in a lion’s den, I lost it. I’m not a particularly skilled fighter. I don’t win every time. I don’t train like most of the guys I go up against. Lacrosse kept me in top shape, but what makes me good is that I can take a fucking beating, and still manage to get back up. I’ve spent my whole life fighting.

  It started as a way to make money for school. My scholarship didn’t pay for much, and I wasn’t going to hit up Lo and Dare for help. I figured it was better than the alternative—also known as selling drugs. I planned on making a good enough chunk of cash to live on for the year, then walking away. But then, Crystal showed up, blowing my plans to shit in true Shepherd fashion.

  I pull into the parking lot of the sketchy apartment complex, cutting the engine. Allie frowns, confusion painting her pretty features as she takes in our surroundings.

  Wordlessly, I hop out of the truck, and she follows me. I make my way toward the steps where a guy with a 40 wrapped in a paper sack sits, nodding at us as we pass. Once we’re upstairs, I dig my key out of my pocket and unlock the door. I don’t like coming here. I’ve only been here a handful of times, and only when I absolutely have to, but I need Allie to see the real me.

  Allie hesitates by the door, arms folded across her chest. I don’t blame her. This place is a fucking sty. The kitchen and living room are combined, with nothing more than a bathroom and a small bedroom connected to a short hallway. The couch has cigarette burns and dark stains in its dingy fabric, along with the blue carpet. The roach-infested kitchen consists of old linoleum and grimy as fuck appliances that are older than I am.

  “Say something,” I urge, and she closes the door behind her.

  “Where are we?”

  I give her a bitter smile. “Home.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

  As if on cue, Crystal appears in the hall, her blonde hair a tangled, matted mess, wearing only a raggedy ass tank top and underwear.

  “I thought I heard someone,” she says, a dazed smile on her face. She walks over to where I sit on the couch, leaning down to hug me. I don’t move to hug her back. I don’t do anything but stare at Allie, unmoving.

  “If I’d known I was having company, I’d have straightened up a little,” she says, noticing Allie’s presence.

  I snort. As if all this place needs is straightening up. Allie’s big gray eyes plead with me to fill her in. She looks all wrong standing in this shit hole.

  “Crystal, this is Allie. Allie…meet my mom.”

  The scared, apprehensive look leaves Allie’s eyes, and in its place is a mixture of anger and contempt.

  “Nice to meet—” Crystal starts, walking toward Allie, but Allie stops her with a glare.

  “Not interested in exchanging pleasantries. Thanks,” she snaps before turning her attention back to me. “Jess, can you just tell me what’s going on?”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Crystal slurs, moving toward Allie. I jump up off the couch, intercepting Crystal before she can touch a hair on Allie’s head.

  “Go to yo
ur room.”

  “You’re going to let her disrespect your mother like that?”

  “Go!”

  Crystal jerks back at my tone, sending one last nasty look toward Allie before walking away with her tail between her legs. I pull out my phone, tapping out a quick text to Sullivan. Once I hear the door slam shut, I turn my attention back to Allie.

  “This is my life, Allie.” I spread my arms wide, gesturing to the space we’re in. “This is who I am.”

  “This isn’t you,” she says vehemently.

  I should’ve never let Crystal back into my life. She cried to me about Lo abandoning her like she was a child, which is a joke considering she’s the one who abandoned us when we were actual children. She cried about being homeless. Cried that she had no one and nothing left. She fucking cried about everything. Like an idiot, I took pity on her. Got her this glamorous apartment and agreed to pay her rent if she left Lo alone. Lo had finally broken free. She deserved it.

  I thought I could handle it. But you know that kids’ book? If You Give a Mouse a Cookie? That’s Crystal. You give her an inch and she takes a hundred fuckin’ miles. She tried demanding more money, and when I threatened to walk away, she went to Julian, the guy who runs the fighting ring. She borrowed money. A lot of fucking money. And Julian was all too happy to give it to her if it meant he could use it as leverage to keep me fighting.

  So, there I was, all geared up to walk away and play it straight, but instead, I got stuck paying her debt. Guys like Julian don’t fuck around. Not fighting meant signing her death warrant.

  I was a fucking fool to think Crystal would’ve ever let me live a normal life. I was an even bigger fool to think I could be good enough for Allie.

  “I’m not good.” I’ve tried. No matter what I do—no matter how hard I try—the end result is the same.

  “Jess,” Allie says, her eyes starting to fill with tears. “I’m not judging you. How could you think I’d judge you after everything?”

  “I’m not good for you,” I say, “and if you stay with me, I’ll only ruin you, too.”

  “How can you say that? Don’t I get a say?”

  “Stop!”

  She flinches at my tone, and I hate that I’m responsible for the hurt on her face.

  “I’m not going to change who I am, Allie,” I say, my voice resigned. I can’t.

  “Who asked you to?” Her lip trembles and a tear rolls down her cheek. A knock on the door makes her jump, and a second later, Halston and Sullivan are stepping inside. I texted Sully the address and told him to take Allie back to River’s Edge.

  Halston tries to pull Allie in for a hug, but she shakes her head, stopping her.

  “I won’t beg you to be with me,” Allie says through clenched teeth. “If I walk out that door, we’re done.”

  Three sets of accusing eyes are trained on me. Sully looks disappointed. Halston looks livid. And Allie looks…broken.

  “Go home, Allison.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS ARE a blur. I walk around in a daze, alternating between wanting to cry and wanting to hit something. How does someone go from, “Be with me, Allie,” to breaking it off in a matter of days? I haven’t heard from Jess since he told me to leave. Honestly, I’m glad he hasn’t come back. Sleeping in his bed, surrounded by his scent, his belongings, his family is bad enough. Staying under the same roof is not an option.

  When Halston and I got back to Lo’s house, she knew something was up. My eyes were bloodshot, and my heart was broken. She asked where Jess was and I was conflicted, not knowing how much I should divulge, but Halston had no such qualms about telling her every detail from where we found him to where he was staying.

  Halston stayed with me that night and has been glued to my side since, as if she’s waiting for me to lose my shit. Even Dylan seems worried, watching me like a ticking timebomb that’s seconds from exploding. But I’m fine. This was just fun. We always knew this thing had an expiration date.

  File that under lies I tell myself.

  * * *

  A KNOCK ON THE DOOR has Crystal peeling her ass off the couch to open it. The second she turns the knob, the door flies open, revealing Lo, who’s clearly on a rampage if the look on her face is anything to go by. Thanks a lot, Allie.

  “You,” she says, pointing her finger in Crystal’s face. “I should have known you were at the root of all of this.”

  “It’s nice to see you too, Logan.” Crystal says, making her way back over to the couch, plopping down beside me before reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table and lighting one up.

  Lo huffs out a bitter laugh, eyeing the both of us. “Two peas in a fuckin’ pod.”

  I grit my jaw, leaning back into the couch as I take a swig from the bottle of Jack in my hand.

  “So, what? This is what you threw your future away for? So you could sit around and get drunk with Crystal?” Lo paces the floor in front of us. “Well, shit, Jess! We didn’t even have to leave Oakland for that. And you,” she says, directing her attention back to Crystal, “I know you’re not exactly known for your virtue, but do you not have an iota of maternal instincts? Are you so pathetic and selfish that you’re willing to ruin your son’s life for your own gain?”

  “He loves his mother,” Crystal yells, standing. “Nothing wrong with that. Unlike your ungrateful ass.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Crystal. I feel responsible for you, but I don’t love you. There’s a difference.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Lo asks, hurt flashing in her eyes.

  I shrug. “You paid your dues.”

  Her expression softens, and she tilts her head to the side. “It’s not too late, Jess. Come home. Right now. Let’s get in the car and go. Whatever it is, we can fix this.”

  Lo’s eyes bore into me, pleading. I take another swig, averting my eyes. I want to. I want to go beg Allie to take me back and forget everything I said. But I’ve fucked everything up so badly, I can’t see a way out.

  “You’re a fighter, Jess. You always have been. It’s all you’ve ever known. But right now? You’re fighting for the wrong fucking thing. Fight for you. Hell, fight for Allie. But don’t waste another second fighting for her,” she says, gesturing toward Crystal, her voice resigned. “You don’t owe her a goddamn thing.”

  When I don’t respond, she takes that as her answer and walks out the door.

  “Always has had a flair for the dramatic,” Crystal remarks, blowing out a plume of smoke between us. “Let her go.” She pats my knee. “She’s not like us, Jesse.”

  “I’m nothing like you,” I spit.

  Crystal lets out a cackle that morphs into a cough. “Look around you, baby. You’re exactly like me.”

  Fuck. She’s right. I’ve done nothing but drown myself in booze and wallow in my misery since I’ve been here. Suddenly, I feel like the walls are closing in on me. My throat feels tight and beads of sweat form at my hairline.

  This wasn’t supposed to be my life. Lo’s right. I don’t know if anything is fixable, but I do know that I don’t want this.

  * * *

  Two weeks later

  TODAY IS MY NINETEENTH BIRTHDAY. It’s also the first anniversary of the worst day of my life.

  I tried to go about my day as if it were any other, but I couldn’t bring myself to go to school. I couldn’t bring myself to face Halston and Dylan—who have already flooded me with calls and messages. Even my mom tried to call me. And I couldn’t face Lo, who knows nothing of the significance of today, but knows Jess and I aren’t together. I threw my phone facedown onto the floor, grabbed my headphones, turned them all the way up, and started walking.

  I didn’t know where I was going. I don’t know how long I wandered before I found myself standing in front of the cemetery gates. Suddenly, the guilt was overwhelming. My dad was in there, rotting in the ground all alone, and I haven’t visited him once.

  I swallowed hard, pushing through the gates, and made my way to his he
adstone. I didn’t speak. I didn’t cry. I just sat, cross-legged on top of his grave. I listened to my CD on a loop for hours, picking grass and watching other people come and go as they greeted their loved ones, before I uncrossed my stiff, numb legs and started walking once more.

  Up next on the pity party tour was the vacation rental. I stood in front of my grandparents’ closed garage, mustering up the strength to open the goddamn thing. Slowly, I brought my fingers up to the keypad, sliding the cover up before punching in the code. The door lurched before starting to rise, inch by inch.

  The first thing I saw was the brand-new black car with the red ribbon still attached to the hood. The graduation present he never got to give me. I shook my head, eyes burning with tears, already regretting the decision. I thought it would be cathartic. I thought wrong. When I turned to leave, I spotted a box in the corner with my name written on it in my dad’s handwriting and scooped it up before hightailing it out of there.

  By the time I get back to Lo’s, I’m kicking myself for leaving my phone behind. My feet are sore, body aching, and I’m glad to find the house empty because the emotional exhaustion from today is setting in. I feel raw and flayed. Like someone split me open, and all the ugly shit I keep locked up inside spilled out for everyone to see. Grieving. Abandoned. Heartbroken. Alone. In my mind’s eye, I see myself bending down to pick them up one by one, stuffing them back inside me. But every time I get one thing locked up, another breaks free.

  Pushing the door open, I walk back into my room, sitting on the floor next to where I left my phone. I stare at the box for long seconds before the need to hold something of his wins out.