Bad Influance #1
Bad Influance #1
Part One
Midpoint
Adrianne Van Houten
Bad Influence
Part One
***
This is, of coure, a work of fiction.
All the characters are over 18 years. Of course.
***
Copyright 2017 by Adrianne Van Houten
I'm running on the treadmill when my dad enters the room. I take my earpieces out; looks like he has something important to announce, otherwise he wouldn't be bothering me.
"Hi, sweetie," he says.
"Hi, dad. What's up?" I say breathlessly; I've been running for over an hour, and I'm just glistening with sweat.
"I wanted to tell you that soon we will have aaa… visitor." He smiles, "I just got off the phone with Uncle Louis."
"Uncle Louis? Are they going to visit us?" I pout since I don't like Uncle Louis nor Dirk, my stupid shitty cousin,
"Well, actually, it’s only Dirk. He’s gonna stay here for a couple of days."
"You’re kidding me, right? Why?"
"Oh, I know you two didn't get along, but you haven’t even seen each other in three years. Uncle Louis and Aunt Carla asked us if we could take him for a while and keep an eye on him. You know, a few days in a different environment should be good for him."
"Good for him? So I’m guessing he’s done something stupid again."
"Well, ah…" my dad puts his hands in pockets, "kind of."
"And that’s his punishment?" I wipe my face with a towel, "Pff… He's now what? 16?"
"Naaah, he's only a year younger than you."
"Oh, right, then that must be his juvenile behavior. What did he do this time?"
"Well," my dad, a good-hearted man, as always tries to be compassionate, "he’s just a teenager, you know how it is."
"I don--" I stop myself because that would be a lie. It’s embarrassing, but I know exactly how it can be. "Okay. So he's gonna stay here, till when, exactly? Don't tell me he's going to be here on my birthday?"
"No, no, he'll be on a flight home by the afternoon of that day. So just nine nights."
"So… he will be here on my birthday. Great." I sigh and then add, "You know I've got this paper to write this week. And now I have to babysit him?"
"C'mon, I don't think he needs a babysitter, heh. It’s just to get him away from any bad influences. Especially now, when summer's near."
"Get HIM away? He is the bad influence." I say under my breath.
"Oh, c’mon, the kid just needs some perspective. They want him to go to a good colleage. They see potential in him. And he's not a stupid kid; they'd like to see him doing something with his life. Kids should know that they can—if they only work hard enough—do great things in their lives."
"I guess." There’s some truth here: if anybody could be a good influence it’s my dad and definitely not Uncle Louis with all his shady ventures, but I already have suspicions it’s bullshit.
"Yeah. So, I was thinking, I can take him to the firm, show him things, maybe he'll learn something, see the big picture. We'll show him the city with mom. And maybe you could spend some time together too. In fact, Uncle Louie thought you could have also a good impact on him since you're such a good student and a… respectable girl. They really admire you, Adrianne; and no wonder. They would like that for him too. I think he could learn a lot from you."
"If you really think that, eh, I can try..." I shrug; won’t be fighting it now, since it’s already a done deal. But I don’t believe it will be so nice as my dad thinks. 'Sooner you start...', 'if you work hard enough…' No way. Dirk will get everything in his life served on a silver platter anyway. I love my dad and mom, but they believe in some weird, beautiful, happy, and fair world, full of hard-working, smiling-to-each-other-heartily good people. For me, that idea sailed away some time ago; awful people are just everywhere, even in my own family. But, I never disagree with my parents on that matter; I let them think I don't know any other worlds.
Dirk’s mom is my mom’s sister; they were both—and still are—gorgeous women. I owe my looks to the same genes. Aunt Carla married Uncle Lou, a rich asshole, and they procreated this little shit called Dirk. And now this turd's gonna be here until my 19th birthday.
I think uncle Louie—who was always a bit pervy and sly in my opinion—had to have a big smile on his face when they talked about his son spending time here. And learning things from me. Yeah, things… He always let Dirk do whatever he wanted, encouraged him even. Wouldn't do anything to hurt his precious kid. Like father like son. Oh, well, not exactly. His son is worse.
Before I hit the shower I ask dad what exactly Dirk did this time. Perplexed, he tells me what Uncle Lou told him: some acts of vandalism, paying hobos to fight each other…, and finally his mom caught him in his room smoking weed and playing strip-poker with his pal and two girls. All I wonder is: were the girls naked at the moment Aunt Carla entered? But I won’t ask my dad about it. Dirk probably couldn't be happier that this is his only punishment.
***
The next day morning my father brings Dirk from the airport. My mom and I go outside the house to welcome him; we do greetings here kind of old-school, probably in most families I would be just lying on the couch, with my eyes glued to the phone. Dirk's gotten bigger. He’s wearing a white long-sleeve t-shirt, black cargo shorts, and sunglasses. He’s not this nasty little rat anymore; a malign, horny boar rather. I admit, he's gotten quite handsome, ripped, tanned; his jaw got chiseled, and these dark, cunning eyes... Jesus, why am I even thinking about this? Have to run on the treadmill more.
"Hi, Dirk!" Mom greets him happily. My father takes his baggage out of the car.
"Hi, cousin," I say, nodding slightly.
"Morning… Hey, Adrianne." He looks at me, lowers his sunglasses… and smiles showing teeth. (Yep, I knew it…) "Long time no see, cousin." He's evidently checking me out, around my parents, no shame. I can already see he’s bursting with energy.
Dad gives him his stuff. Dirk looks at him, then at us.
"Don't you have a maid or somethin’?"
"Not permanently." My mom answers.
He shakes his head slightly and takes one of the bags. What a dick! I think we may be needing our maid for additional hours because he's gonna break and fuck everything around.
"So how was your flight?" My mom asks him.
"A joke." He complains.
"Didn't you fly first class?"
"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat. His eyes are checking me again, "if that's what they call it."
The sun is beating down today; just a few days ago a heatwave hit our city… We go inside.
I’m supposed to write this paper about growing income inequalities but, because of this heat, I’m getting more and more agitated, I have these pesky thoughts, …and urges; it’s slowly killing me. And now, on the top of everything, this… I thought about buying myself a vibrator but now, with that idiot here, better wait with that idea. Whenever they visited us, Dirk rifled through my stuff. I think since then he could get only worse—exactly the type of guy I’ve decided to avoid after last summer; only younger, just starting his life as a privileged douche. That’s some kind of a reminder of what I did a year ago… Did I think I can forget it so easily?
***
He leaves his bags in the guest room, we walk him around the house. When we finish, he decides it's the right time to say something stupid (of course), "But that Adrianne! She's now quite a fox! Isn't she, huh?" He chuckles, protractedly, too fucking long! He knows my parents are too nice to react to that anyhow, they just ignore it. "She's really… uh, quite a marvel!" He’s nodding happily.
And, of course, m
y sweet parents cannot even take into consideration the obvious; they just giggle stupidly with those big honest smiles, holding each other.
Finally, my mom responds, "She is. She is. We are… very proud of her. Um, did you know, Dirk, she's one of the best students of the year?"
"Yeah, I heard! Someone has to be good in the family. Right? And someone has to be bad! Huh, cousin?" He jabs me, laughing stupidly. My parents laugh too, a bit nervously. But my smile doesn’t come off right; it’s just too much bullcrap to handle.
"I think… maybe she'll teach me something, too? Open my eyes a bit. Who knows?" He shrugs his shoulders, a bit theatrically.
Yeah, he’s breaking the ice fast… wrapping them around his finger. That he knows how to do. Do my parents even take into consideration that he's a horny, unpredictable snot? They're such believers. They don't know anything about modern youth. Maybe it's better they don’t; they would die of heart attacks otherwise. That is also why I won't be telling on him. Not that I feel obligated to maintain any solidarity with my fellow here, I just don't want to bother them, I'm almost sure he's incurable anyway.
***
Later that day, Dirk comes to my room; he knocks at the door but half of his body’s already in. I'm lying on the bed with a book.
"Yo!"
"What's up?" I say lazily.
For a moment he says nothing, just walks about and looks around.
"You've changed, cousin. Big girl now." He checks the books on my shelves.
"You too. Big boy."
"Yeah, you noticed. Fuckin' A." He says in a jaded manner. "See you've got the glasses. They enhance the look."
"Yeah?" Still lazily.
He turns to me, "That piercing in your tongue? Gives me some hopes for ya."
Oh, he spotted it. I'm so accustomed to it I forget completely about it. The piercing is the last remainder of the last year's summer craziness; the smallest, most innocent thing of it all; so I keep it. Now I'm moving my jaw, a bit abashed, like I want to hide the piercing in my mouth somehow.
He's still walking around my room, just sniffing; it gets me nervous, though everything that needs to be hidden is hidden well. I pretend I'm trying to read but my sight follows his every move. (Don't you dare to go through my stuff again!)
I guess I can at least try talking to him like my parents want. I ask about his plans for now, what about school and such, but cannot expect much here. So next I tell him I'm writing this paper about income inequalities. He laughs at first. Then he asks me what does that even mean. When I explain it to him, he claims it's a good thing, 'rich should be richer, that's progress, right?' Sure. That's him, like daddy like son. Only worse. At least he knows the word 'progress'. Poor auntie, she not only has an asshole husband but also a prick for a son. She probably decides just not to notice too much.
"Why aren't you a model or something?" He asks me at some point.
"Beee… Becaaause, why should I be?"
"Beeecuuuaaassseee, heh", he mocks me, "you got the right body? Ain’t ya? In case you've never seen yourself… or whatever." He goes through the pages of my photo album, smiling at something widely from time to time.
"Oooh, gosh, you know, I... haven't. Ever. Thanks for the advice. Will be searching for those things they call mirrors from now on."
He puffs. Sexual innuendos are only a matter of time. He asks me if I have a boyfriend. I say 'no'. That's another reason for a choked laugh; maybe now he thinks I'm a virgin. Then he says straight forward that he doesn't believe such a piece of ass can go through life without some solid poking. "Something's wrong here, cousin."
I immediately react with strong indignation—I've learned if I react extremely offended at any remark regarding fucking it usually gets guys off my tail—it makes them think I'm a total stiff, although better that than them suspecting anything. Nevertheless, Dirk's right here… it doesn’t add up. Nonetheless, I go with it. He stares at me for a moment, I look at him; quite a long moment; I gulp, not stepping back; and after a second he again chuckles stupidly and goes to his room.
"I'm fuckin' tired. See ya tomorrow, cousin."
Did it work? …hopefully. Because nobody—no-bo-dy!—can know a thing about what I did.
***
The next day my dad takes Dirk to the firm with him so it's calm til the afternoon. It must be sad for my dad’s employees working their asses off all day and then see the boss walking around with his nephew, like some protege, not that my dad will ever hire him, but they don’t know that. And a nice job is awaiting him anyway in one of Uncle Lou’s businesses.
Now they're back… The second dad leaves us alone Dirk starts complaining to me about my dad's Audi. "Why the fuck does he drive an Audi? He could have a Ferrari."
"Uhm, cause he’s a family man, Dirk? And it’s a family car."
"My old man has a Ferrari."
"Yeah, he's... great."
"I spin in that bad boy sometimes, you know. Wanna go for a ride some day?"
Suddenly, a wave of heat hits me; mute memories pass through in my mind… I try to keep calm, "Thanks, but no thanks…"
"Fuck me, you don’t like anything! That’s …fun." He says quietly.
"Fuck you," I say only in my head.
***
My parents ask me to spend some time with him and leave us alone at home for a while. He instantly starts trying to drag me to our indoor pool. Forget about it; I wouldn't wear even a one-piece around him. Instead, I decide to try the easy way; I invite him to play games on the Xbox.
He’s just finished working out and first thing, he starts to flex his bisceps in front of me.
"Good, huh?"
"Sure. You’re coming or not?"
Actually, for a teenager his muscles are quite powerful, very few boys this age look that good. If he weren't such a piece of shit, I would even reward him, let him have it… why not? „They are nice,” I would’ve told him.
After maybe 10 minutes of playing he’s apparently bored. So he starts again…
"Hey. I know a different game, we should play that instead."
"Yeah? What’s the game?" I ask after a moment of silent clicking the pad.
"It's called 'Where's the cock.' D'ya know it? You should, cousin… where's the cock? Where is it? Search for it, search for it."
"Okay. You can stop this now."
"Where’s the cock, where’s the cock." He’s repeating.
"You're not getting on my nerves. I know guys like you, Dirk."
"The greatest? Heh, you don't seem to be that kind of girl. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah, let’s go with that… Listen, I know what you're trying to do. From the beginning, this was a joke more than a punishment for you. You know that, and you're trying to play my parents and turn it into one big party."
"Uh-oh. You got me." He says sarcastically staring into the screen. "My whole plan is exposed. Whaaat to dooo--"
"Shut up and play."
"Jeezzz, I hoped for some fun with ya, cousin. Get some party started! Invite some friends! I could get to know your BFs. But nooo… Why you have to be such a stiff? Do you even have any friends?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Yeah? Heh, I don’t think so. Hey, did you even…? You’re not a fuckin’ virgin, are you? Or are you?" He starts chuckling.
"Pfff," I desperately try to keep playing.
His chuckling grows louder. It’s really getting on my nerves now. I think I’m red in the face.
"Fuck me… cousin. You have to learn. Fast!" He says.
I’m gonna fly off the handle in a fucking second…
"C’mon, don’t be shy, it’s not that bad." He continues, "Heh, you know what? We’re only cousins so it’s not a big deal. I can do you a favor and teach ya."
"Jesus Christ!" I throw the pad aside. "Are you shitting me!? Teach me? Teenage expert? Just… don’t make me laugh."
I immediately regret saying it.
"Oh, I can, cousin, I can teach you a lot of stuff." He
still tries to piss me off.
No reaction, deep breath; I'm back in the game, not even looking at him; but I feel him peering at me…
"Or maybe…" He waits for something; sinister pause; I feel chills, he’s fucking staring at me, I can feel it. He speaks again, "You wanna tell me something?"
"Um, no?"
"Nooo? Or… yes?" Another pause, "…you’re fuckin’ hiding something."
"Hey, will you ever shut up?"
"Oh man! You are! You’re fuckin’ hiding somethin’" I must be all red (Fuck!), "Tell me, tell me! Tell me!"
"Shut up? Shut up? Shut up!"
For a moment, a hush falls, only the game noises now, and then suddenly Dirk’s loud chuckling peals, "Hah! You're fuckin' hiding something!"
"…you're such a shithead."
I’m pissed and tired with that; he’s not even on to me, he’s just wishfully thinking out loud.
"You…" He leans closer and stares at me, scratching his chin; I can see him in my peripheral vision, "…sucked a cock?" I just slightly shake my head, hopelessly, "More? Hah! Yeah, there’s more! …sucked more than one? …drunk? …high!"
I look at him, "Are you playing the game or what?"
"Fuckin' A, I'm playing! I’m fuckin’ killing you here!" And after a second, "Hey, maybe you're not so bad as I thought, cousin."
"Maybe I'm not," I say, having no better answer. I’m fucked.
***
Later Emma, my very good friend, calls me to tell me about a tattoo she just got. She would like to show it to me tomorrow; it should heal properly by that time. Also, she will probably try one more time to persuade me to go on a vacation with her again. While I try to forget about the last time with her, she—on the other hand—likes to reminisce about it every chance she gets. Kind of torture for me. She does that this time too.Trying to change the subject, I tell her about the retard I’m living with under one roof now and how he got here.
"What's his name?" She asks.
"Dirk."
"Dirk. Huh. Sounds like a dick. Is he... a dick? Or maybe is he a douchebag or a prick?" She raps that last part.
Bad Influance #1 Page 1
