Be My Bad Boy

The things that had seemed important then, like hanging out with the right people and getting good grades and shopping, had come to mean nothing to me. As for Andy, I think money meant more to him than he let on. He seemed to have some kind of hang up about it, as if he was so much better for not having any.

We made good time getting to the beach town. The road had been clear and Andy drove well. Once we got to the town, I took out the map Frank had given me and navigated.
"You sure this is the right road?" He asked.. "There doesn't seem to be much down here. And this road is wrecking the suspension on the car."
It was a pretty rough road but that was what the map said, the third turnoff after we left the town then a couple of kilometres down the track to the beach house. The town itself had been tiny. A surf shop and a couple of souvenir shops and a café. Then there'd been a big stone pub on the corner, the old style with big verandahs. That'd pretty much been it.

"There's a place," I said. "Must be it. Pull over just here, there should be a turn off."
In the lights of the car, it didn't look like much. Frank had said that it had all the mod cons and I'd expected something closer to the beach but this place was old and there was no beach in sight, as far as I could tell. Some of the boards were falling off the outside and the garden looked overgrown.

We grabbed our bags and headed to the front door.
"The key doesn't work," I said. I wriggled it, trying to get it into the lock. It didn't even fit, let alone turn.
"Let me try. You must be doing it wrong."
Andy took the key from me and tried to get into the lock. Not that he did any better.
"There's not another house?"

"This looks like it's the only one. Wouldn't it be on the map if we had to drive past another house? Maybe there's another door?"
We walked around the house looking for another way in. I stumbled over a fishing net, left leaning against the side of the house. It was hard to see in the dark, trying to make my way through the long grass. The place had a strong smell of fish and a lot of weird stuff sitting around outside. Maybe Frank was into fishing.

"There's no other door. What should we do?" I asked but there was no answer. "Andy? Andy..?"
I walked back around to the front of the house, calling out to him. This was like a bad horror movie, where someone goes to investigate something and they never come back and then their body is found all dead and grotesque. I really hoped he hadn't been hacked up. I'd be all alone, and I'd have to fish the car keys out of his jeans pocket and he'd probably be all blood-splattered and gross.
The front door of the house swung open. I screamed. It was the insane clown hacker dude, come to get me.

Andy stood in the doorway.
"What the hell are you doing? I thought you were the evil clown. Don't ever do that again." I beat my hands against his chest until he pushed me away.
"I got in through the window. This place is a little… rough… isn't it?"
I walked in and turned on the lights. He wasn't wrong. The floor was covered in worn lino and the walls were cheap chipboard. In some places, they weren't even lined. Frank had really talked this place up. The single room had mismatched furniture and the place was freezing cold. I couldn't even see a bathroom. There was more fishing stuff around the place – some fishing rods and nets. The whole place reeked of fish too. Dead fish that had gone rotten in the sun.

Notes

Aha, not much in this one. But smuttty stuff shall come soon.