07 | 𝐵𝑎𝑑 𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

"Aren't they just, beautiful?" she boasted, the astonishment in her expression more prominent when she raised the inanimate objects to eye level, studying and admiring the detail.

"They're wine glasses," I responded, but I did understand the idea of it. They looked very nice, the usual wine glass shape with intricate designs climbing up the base and to the lip. "Mom, I'm kinda being serious here?" I reminded her with an edge to my words. It was probably the fifth time she diverged from the conversation at hand since I'd gotten home.

"And I heard you the first several times," she uttered with distance, beginning to turn around and walk over to the mahogany cabinets.

Our kitchen was homey, unlike Victor's, which was dull and sad--ours had dark colors with a mixture of granite countertops, coated in ivory gloss and black and brown specks. There were wooden bar stools surrounding the island, creating a U-shaped kitchen.

I tried remembering, but Victor's fridge was bare, naked, and like I said, not-homey. Kayla's house was cozy, Jay's house was cozy, even Sullivan's large mansion had some homey components to it, though it was splattered in Wyoming wealth, which basically consisted of a lot of oak, cobblestone, and deer heads. We had a deer head in our living room, and Kayla's house stole all of McDonald's 'farm.'

"I'm thinking," my mom sharply hissed, opening the cabinet door parallel from me. She hung the wine glasses upside down, closed the door, and turned back to me. "You said what now?"

"Can I have Liv over? Sullivan? My Crush?" I eagerly recalled, as if claiming he was my crush would do something beneficial, but she only pressed a thin finger to her lip before pivoting towards the stovetop on my right hand side. There was a thin sheet along the granite countertop with a kitchen hood above it.

She messed with the contents in the pan before turning on her heel. "A boy over at this house? No."

"Mom, Jay comes over all the time."

She huffed. "Yeah, but that's different. Jay's... Jay," she croons. "You and Kayla call him a brother from another mother in front of him all the time," she expressed with a grimace.

"But Mom--"

"Why can't you guys work on a school project at school?" she assuredly replied, "hence, school project?" She put a firm hand on her hip and arched a brow at me.

"Because," I started sheepishly. "We can work on it in school, but it'll be a lot easier if we just get it done after since class time won't be able to cover it all. It's a difficult project that involves us watching five different movies from five different years or decades--"

She dropped her hand and hunched over the countertop inquisitively. "Say what?" she retorted. "Explain this to me one more time."

"We have to gather five different movies. These are just examples, but one from the start of the 1900s, one from the 1930s, the 1950s, and so on, up to the 2000s. They all have to be the same genre and we have to compare and contrast them," I explained sorrowfully. Reflecting over my future presentation, already tired from it.

"This sounds pointless," my mom ridiculed, leaning away from the counter as another heap of steam blew off of the pan. "What's the point?"

"Well, apparently we have to compare their messages and repetition in history---"

"This is English class?" she asked again, sounding more confused than me. I nodded when she looked over her shoulder, twisting the fabric of the apron tighter around her waist while four consecutive knocks sounded at the door. We heard it swing inwards, howling winds hissing through the entryway rebelliously.

"Honey, I'm home!" sang Kayla sweetly, shutting the front closed. We couldn't see her, but she appeared in the kitchen open door frame and asked, "What's for dinner?"

My mom wrinkled an eyebrow, ignoring it with me. Kayla frequently popped in, but no one could blame her. Her home life wasn't exactly pleasing.

"Italian sausage stuffed peppers," my mom answered, retreating a third plate from the cabinet. "It's your lucky night, Girl. I made extras," she noted, throwing an index finger up at her, warranting her appreciation.

"Why thank you," Kayla gushed playfully, squirming in the bar stool next to me. "It smells delicious in here."

We exchanged a quick smile and 'sup' nod while my mom finished fixing everything onto plates, questioning, "What do you think about this English assignment?"

Kayla shrugged as the plate was pushed before her, she looked at the stuffed pepper hungrily. "I don't know, I got partnered with a really smart girl in our grade, Natalie."

"You got paired with Natalie?"

Kayla retorted, "Yeah, I would've told you all about it if you hadn't run out of there so quickly." This caught my mother's attention. "Oh, boy! You didn't tell her?" Kayla laughed, bringing her fork to her mouth and looking between the two of us as my mom wheeled a bar stool onto the other side.

We usually sat at the dinner table, but since Kayla plunged into the nearest bar stool, we migrated to the kitchen island without much thought. Kayla continued, swallowing a mouthful before saying, "the second she found out about being partnered with her crush she booked it out of there after the bell. Y'know how we've been trying to get her to tell Sully to stop calling her Mia?" she reminded, seeing my mom nod intriguingly whilst eating. "Well, he interrupted the class to ask who the new male student was."

My mom choked on her bite, bringing the napkin to her mouth and snickering. "Holy moly, that's some funny shit right there," she bullied, some russet strands of hair cascading out of her bun and down her face.

"Thanks a lot, Mom," I muttered with a mouthful.

"Sorry, Sweetie, but it's the truth. You should've told him your name wasn't Mia--"

"I am now," I claimed, "I talked to Vicky about--"

"Vicky?" Kayla asked.

Even my mom, gulped her wine down and placed the glass on the countertop leisurely with a firm unibrow. "Who's Vicky?"

Shit, why do I have to name people weird nicknames and say too much? The combination wasn't good.

I lowered my fork down to the rim of my plate, even my eyes were trained on the utensil. "Victor Vislocky."

My mom heard a lot about him from Kayla and it was no surprise that Kayla was interested, especially since I'd brushed it off earlier that'd I visited him to return clothes, but I knew that I was going to tell her later about his advice... it wasn't planned to be said at the dinner table though.

"Vic?" repeated Kayla, sipping her glass of water. "Is that where I picked you up today? At his house?"

"You were at his house?" interrupted my mom with a worried look in her eyes. She didn't even know he was a fuckboy, she'd only assumed that he dated a new girl by the hour, which wasn't totally a lie. "Since when did this happen?"

"After school," I revealed shyly, "but he's been helping me with Sullivan... like telling me how to get him to have similar feelings--" I tried to describe.

"You're what?" Kayla rebuked. "Why do you think he of all people is gonna help you? You're better off being taught by Ted Bundy! I'm in love with him, but he's not exactly... the friendly type. Or too friendly, shall I say?"

"Ah hell no," my mom announced, raising her wine glass like she was using it to point. The cream tinted liquid swooshed around. "You ain't asking Kayla's crush for advice on your crush and I don't want you seeing somebody like him. He's a bad influence."

Kayla grumbled with a mouth full of ground beef and sausage, "I'm a bad influence on your daughter, Mama Kellman." She looked up through her hood of lashes as my mom only nodded with a roll of her eyes.

"I knew that," she said into her wine, sipping casually and then lowering it. "No offense, Kayla, but I do not like the Vislocky's kid at all. He's bad news. I've heard all about him through Kayla's updates and know enough about him to assume he's bad news."

Kayla raised a hand and intervened, "Actually, Mama Kellman, Victor's only faults are his sexual desires--"

"Are you kidding me?" I exhaled tightly, my eyes instantly dropped to my plate.

My mom shook her head frantically. "Absolutely not, you're not allowed to go to his house again, especially not without my permission."

Kayla turned towards me with a solemn look on her face before she attempted to fix the situation by saying, "technically, it's those who appear to be good are the ones you should look out for, like Sullivan--"

"Kayla," I warned through gritted teeth, scraping my fork along my plate.

My mom arched both of her brows and I knew we were in trouble. "So you're saying I shouldn't have Sullivan come over? Because I was considering it."

Kayla shot a look between both my mom and I, then said, "Oh, no! Have him over! He's a little sweetheart, you'll love him. I'm realizing you've never met him. Meet the parent already, I see. Nice going. You see, your daughter is turning into one smart and sly whippersnapper," she teased at the end.

"Kayla?" I started, catching her attention and hearing a short hum in reply. In the friendliest tone I could muster, I instructed with a grimace, "shut up."

She nodded quickly and contorted back to her plate. "Good thinking."

♡♡♡

"You see, I didn't know he was coming over!" laughed Kayla as she spun in endless circles in my office chair.

I paced the length of my ivory colored bedroom with greenery tapering down the length of the walls. "He wasn't!" I snapped, "I didn't invite him yet, but it looks like you had already done a great job at convincing! You persuaded my mom to not let him come over! You know how she is about the whole dating and guy thing," I rambled.

I didn't blame her though, she had some pretty bad experiences in high school when it came to dating and I did have an understanding of why she was afraid of letting me go out into the real world of love, but at the same time, I wished she didn't always have to use her past as excuses for me.

Kayla nodded, slowing the office chair and looking a bit clouded. "Listen, we all know I'll convince your mom before I leave," she agreed. Which, in the end, Kayla always found a way to convince my mom. She was good at debate, and my mom, being a lawyer, had some good points too.

"Thanks," I sighed tiredly.

Kayla was leisurely spinning around in the office chair again when she ceased all movements and pointed to a crumpled piece of clothing outside of my closet doors. "What's that?"

"Shit--nothing!" I sang, but she got up from the chair and walked over before I could stop her.

"Wait, this is what you were wearing when I picked you up from Victor's--dude! Back off my man!" she elegantly demanded me, she wore a genuine smile, but I could see the faint hurt in her eyes. "Stop stealing all his sweatshirts otherwise he'll have none to give to me when we start dating, and then you can get Sullivan's."

My heart fluttered at the idea, but I refrained from mentioning it. "I know, but it was raining and don't worry. I've done my fair share of pissing him off," I joked lightly.

I pulled out my vanity chair and sat down on the stool. "Maybe I should tell you..." I hesitantly began, which caused her head to shoot at me. "He invited me to go to this place with him on Saturday--"

"You got asked out on a date?" she retorted.

"God, no!" I shook my head frantically. I was not attracted to him, okay, maybe that was a lie, he was hot and I knew that, he knew that, but I didn't want to date him. Even if he'd asked, I'd reject. I wanted Sullivan, whole-heartedly. He was the guy I could see myself with, not someone like Victor Vislocky.

I coaxed on, "seriously, Kay, I do not want to date him, I'll even say something about you if you'd like?" I offered, and Kayla stared at me longingly. She knew I was a terrible liar, everybody in Fox Point who saw me attempt to lie, knew how bad I was at it. Though right at that moment, I was telling the truth and she could tell.

She nodded in confirmation with a smile. "Thank you," she murmured, sitting back down in the office chair. "I'd hate to cut off your hands if you stole the guy I liked," she laughed. "What are you guys even doing?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "He said he'd text me--"

"And you have his phone number?!" she whined, but my eyes enlarged two times the size.

No way, did Kayla just go there? But of course, we were both joking.

We weren't the type of friends that would fight over a man, no guy was worth no best friend.

"You have Sullivan's!" I refuted.

"True, I'll give you that," she joshed in reply. "I won't steal your man, if you promise to not steal mine." She wheeled the black office chair over to my stool with an outstretched hand.

I shook it sternly. "I hate you for telling my mom Victor Vislocky has undying sexual desires," I recalled once our hands separated.

She broke into hysterics, doubling over. "That was hilarious!" she commented, "but it's true... wait, did he ever try I don't know... kiss you or do more?" Her eyes looked a combination of serious and hurt, as if she was preparing herself for the answer.

She knew that Victor was with a new girl every night because of rumors, but if he ever did anything to me, I think she'd be more hurt than anything if I let it willingly happen.

"No," I said, but my slight tone indifference caused her to freak. "I mean," I defended. "He's joked around about sleeping with me, but I wouldn't steep that low to be someone's quickie."

That was a lie. I was ready, but ready for Sullivan more than anything.

"Okay, good." She gave a soft smile and gestured to my bed. "Down for a movie?"

"Definitely, oh... I probably need to work on my calculus homework while we watch," I admitted sheepishly. "And by me... I mean you."

She rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. Remarking happily, "Good to know that hanging with bad influences hasn't changed you."

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