Page 59 of Bad Influence
‘It’s hardly DJing when you have a playlist. Anyway, Mandy’s taken over – she loves a celebració. I needed a vape. Would you like some?’
‘I haven’t vaped since I was at uni,’ I said, kicking a little stone with my foot and watching it plop into the pond. ‘It’s still bad for your lungs.’
I stole a glance at the side of his face as he lifted the vape to his lips. He really did have the most symmetrical face, the kind that probably wouldn’t get chosen to front an ad campaign in 2025, because a casting director would say he wastooclassically perfect.
The walls gave us privacy from the main house, and also a bit of shelter from the cold whip of the wind. It felt intimate sharing this space together.
‘If you heard me talking, I was chatting to the gnome,’ I said, trying to make him feel comfortable. ‘I promise I’m not actually mad.’
‘Gnome?’
‘Him over there.’ I nodded towards the stone ornament.
‘Oh right – that’s a gnome. Was he getting told off by you too?’
‘Fortunately, gnomes can’t answer back, sorry to break it to you. Did you think I was telling you off?’
‘The vaping. I think I’m old enough to make my own decisions, Mom.’
I sound like his mum, this is not good.
‘Sorry. I’m just a bit fed up, I guess.’
‘Fed up, why?’
‘I constantly think I’m going to get fired,’ I replied.
‘Mandy isn’t the easiest client, we all know that. I tune out the nonsense now.’
‘I can’t lose this job.’
He made a sympathetic sound. ‘You won’t lose this job, trust me.’
‘You don’t know that.’
I watched smoke leave his lips and dissipate in the air. His lips looked like soft pillows.
I bet he’s a really good kisser. I bet he’s slept with so many beautiful women.
He offered the vape to me and this time I decided to take it. The soft fruity taste hit the back of my throat giving me an enjoyable buzz.
‘Do you know what’s just across that field?’
I shook my head. ‘Some sheep?’
‘There’s a gin distillery. I saw it on Google Maps. It’s walkable and they have a bar.’ He leant closer to me, close enough for me to feel his breath on my face. ‘It’s quick if you go cross-country.’ His eyes were shining.
My gaze drifted down to his coat.
I wish I wasn’t such a snob when it comes to clothes, but I can’t go into a local gin distillery with someone wearing a white puffa. Can I?
Then I looked at my feet. ‘I’m not sure these boots were made for fields.’
‘You’re right. It’s a stupid idea to go across a field in this weather.’ His face collapsed, and I felt bad for quashing his enthusiasm. I shivered.
‘Here, take my coat. You’re cold.’ He stood up and began peeling it off.
‘No honestly, it’s fine.’ It did look warm, but I had standards. ‘You kind of get used to it when you live here.’
