Adam Read Free Page B

socks getting drenched from the wet grass.
This was a completely fucked-up thing to do.
    Adam leaned into Brad’s ear. “Her shade is open just a crack—it’s perfect,” he whispered.
    Brad swatted Adam away and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “Stop spitting on me,” Brad said, not in a whisper.
    They crouched behind the bushes in front of Casey’s window. The crack in the shade glowed yellow against the darkened house. Adam groped for possible reasons why they were there if caught.
“Brad lost his baseball in the bushes,”
singsonged in his head like a Learn-to-Read book. They leaned in closer against the bush, and a sliver of the room came into focus. Casey and Sam stumbled into view—about mid-thigh to shoulders visible. They were sort of fake-dancing to the music, pushing and pretend-hitting each other. Sam grabbed Casey around the middle and began to pull her shirt up.
    Adam glanced at Brad, whose mouth was opening and closing like a blowfish. He felt an urge to just
push
Brad, just sort of knock him over and watch him roll down the hill.
    â€œHoly fuck,” said Brad.
    Adam looked back through the window crack. Casey was on the bed, and Sam was crawling in between her legs, undoing Casey’s jeans.
Look away, just look away.
Casey reached up and tugged at Sam’s shirt. Sam pushed Casey’s hands off, but then hesitated and took her shirt off herself. She was wearing a black sports bra. Casey put her hands on Sam’s tits, and they started kissing again. Sam was grinding herself into Casey. Adam imagined digging his fingers into his eye sockets, scooping out his eyeballs, and throwing them into the night. They would be light and slimy and hard to throw very far. Sam reached down and opened one of the drawers underneath Casey’s bed. She took out a sort of black strappy contraption and turned her back to Casey.
What the fuck was she doing?
Sam pulled off her jeans, keeping her underwear on. She spread the contraption open, turned it around a few times and put her legs through some of the straps, tripping forward a little. She pulled it up around her waist and that was when Adam realized what it was. Coming out of the straps was a huge black rubber dick.
    Brad went nuts. “No fuckin’ way! No fuckin’ way!”
    Sam reached over and shut off the light.
    â€œFuck!” said Brad.
    Adam felt a gush of relief, or maybe disappointment—he couldn’t tell.
    â€œDude, you’re a straight-up freak,” said Brad. He grinned at Adam through the dark. “Watching your
sister?
What’s wrong with you?”
    And Adam pushed him, and they both rolled down the hill.
    ***
    Needless to say, Adam felt he could speak with authority when he said that two girls sharing a pussy-soaked lollipop were
not
real lesbians. He found a video he liked, did his thing, and cleaned up with some dirty boxers off the floor.
    ***
    It was 1:00 A.M. and Adam was still awake, lying in bed. His government book lay on the floor in the same spot, now illuminated by a patch of streetlight from the window. Like God was trying to remind him. He also had a five-page essay on
The Sun Also Rises
due yesterday. He had finished the book the day it was assigned, but writing essays depressed him and he’d put it off for weeks. He always felt forced to find a “point,” one he often didn’t even completely believe in but corralled the book into proving anyway. When he was done, he’d end up hating the book he had loved.
    Adam stared around the dark, shadowy room. The lights from cars ran across his wall, soft sounds in the distance. The objects in his room were distorted, anonymous fuzzy gray blobs that looked alien and out of place. He liked finding the weirdest blob, usually two things melded together, and concentrating on it hard, feeling his brain working as it figured out what it actually was (a desk lamp and an old soccer trophy, a