Free Bad Influence by K. A. Mitchell Page A

‘cut-a-bitch crazy’.”
    Eli huffed. “Well, all I knew was what you told me on the phone. And don’t think I couldn’t take him.”
    Silver didn’t doubt it. He’d seen Eli in action once. He was small but fearless, and he went right for the nuts. Silver relied on a shove or a trip and the speed in his long legs.
    “And don’t do that,” Eli said.
    “What?”
    “Distract me.”
    Silver sighed. “What are you so hot to know for, anyway?”
    “This may be Quinn’s house, but if there’s a reason that guy shouldn’t be hanging around you, I want to know it.”
    “Fine.”
    Eli eyed Silver with one brow arched in suspicion. “You could start with how we go from you freaking out and leaving your own birthday party—yes, I figured that part out—to get away from him and after one night in jail later everything is peachy-keen.”
    “Did you really just say peachy-keen?” Silver doubled the raise on his own brows.
    “Don’t change the subject again.”
    “Someone’s been taking toppy lessons from Daddy.”
    Eli didn’t bite. He stared and let the silence stretch between them.
    Silver could have played that game too, folded his arms and waited, but Eli was better as an ally. The story would have to be edited. No way would Eli—at least not cut-a-bitch-crazy Eli—let Zeb hang around if the whole disaster came out.
    “Zeb and I used to—” God help me, Jordan. Do you know how much I love you? “He’s an ex,” Silver finished, and leaned back to balance the chair on two legs.
    “Yeah, I got that much. From when? Quinn said he’s been in Haiti for two years and just got back last summer.”
    “I guess. I wouldn’t know. It was back when I was living at home.”
    “That’s the way to work it.” Eli offered a fist bump Silver ignored. “I’m not the only one who goes for older men.”
    “He’s still a lot younger than Quinn.” Which wasn’t the only difference.
    “So, was hooking up with him how your parents found out?”
    “Yeah.” Now was the time for the careful work in the editing room. “Before they knew, they actually liked me hanging out with him. Thought it was a bible study group.”
    “But you were studying him in the biblical sense.” Eli chuckled at his own joke.
    Silver checked frame by frame, looking for places to cut. Even after his parents had left New Hope for a different—less liberal, according to them—church, they’d been thrilled at all the interest Silver showed in staying with the old congregation instead of fighting them every Sunday. And when he’d announced he was doing a bible study group with one of the youth leaders, they’d praised Jesus up and down.
    All Silver had to do was a quick Internet search for a couple of verses and interpretations and he could be out until 11:30 two nights a week. That had always been the worst part once they’d started making lo—fucking. Having to get out of bed and dress, a long good night kiss at the door before the drive home. Most of his friends wished they could find someone to bang regularly. Silver dreamed of a time when he could spend the night in his lover’s arms.
    Silver examined his younger self with disgust. Poor pathetic sap. No wonder he’d been so fucked. He never should have opened his mouth. Shown Zeb’s picture to his best friend. Maybe then nothing would have happened. It had taken a whole lot of if s to get to the place where everything went to hell.
    If Zeb hadn’t gotten a job filling in for a teacher on maternity leave over on the middle school side of the campus. If Marissa hadn’t wanted to go over to that spot in the woods to sneak a cigarette during lunch. If Zeb wasn’t such a good teacher that he had his seventh graders outside to do some practical geometry measuring shadows. And mostly if Marissa hadn’t said loud enough for the other two girls with them to hear, “Mary’s donkey balls, Jordan. Isn’t that your boyfriend?”
    Marissa wouldn’t have deliberately screwed him