The Grown Ups Read Free

stairs. When she got out the back of her T-shirt and shorts were wet and stuck to her body. She made a face and Sam said, “I guess it didn’t make a difference.”
    She shrugged. “It was so warm I didn’t even realize it, you know?” There were shadows in her cheeks and under her eyes that Sam had never noticed before.
    â€œWere you sick a long time?”
    â€œI guess. More than a week. My brothers got it too.” She came up close to him and grabbed his hand. “How about you?”
    Her hand felt like the skeleton of a bird in his. Sam held it lightly, carefully. “I just got over it.”
    She nodded. “I don’t think I started it then. ’Cause, well. You know.”
    Sam’s heart was thudding in his ears. “Yeah,” he offered, “it wasn’t you.”
    â€œAre you drunk?”
    â€œI had a beer at Peter’s.”
    â€œDid you smoke it?”
    â€œWhat?”
    Suzie hit him on the shoulder. “Come on. Bella’s my best friend.”
    â€œOh, yeah. Well, yeah.” He coughed. “Bella’s nice.”
    â€œYeah, she’s really nice. Why do you think she’s my best friend?” Suzie smirked.
    â€œSo you liked it? Her mom gets some really strong stuff.”
    â€œOh, have you? Before, I mean?”
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    Sam shrugged and Suzie laughed without making a sound.“Come on.” She tugged on his hand and before he knew it they were inside her house stumbling down the carpeted stairs to the basement.
    He knew where they were going before they got there, and he knew she would get the box out. This time she set it down on the rumpled bedspread and plopped down beside it in her damp shorts and shirt. Sam had the thought that someone would know they had been down there if they saw the stains left behind by her wet clothes, but then Suzie grabbed his hand again and pulled him onto the bed, the box between them.
    â€œGo ahead,” she urged. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes half closed, a dreamy look on her face. “Go ahead and open it.”
    The photographs were in the same order as they had been the first time Sam saw them. He searched for something more in the mothers’ faces, but he couldn’t see anything. “What do you think these are from?”
    Suzie exhaled. “I think my father was fucking them and my mother found out.”
    At Suzie’s use of the word fuck Sam felt a twinge in his belly. He swallowed hard but it felt like something was caught in his throat. “I don’t know, Suze” he said, returning the photographs to the box. He had been in the Rosses’ kitchen earlier that evening and Mrs. Ross had given him a Coke. He thought of Mr. Epstein, who worked on Wall Street and made a lot of money. More money, he had heard his father comment to his mother, than probably anyone in the neighborhood.
    Sam heard the box drop to the floor and felt Suzie’s hand on his shoulder. She pushed him back and straddled his left leg, her upper body pressed against his so hard he could feel her breasts, and then their mouths were together again. Sam wondered if shethought his chest felt skinny. He brought his arms around her like he had done this every day of his life. Even though they had only been here once before, it already seemed easier.
    Suzie’s wet T-shirt stuck to Sam’s hands. He searched for a dry place to put them but there was none. He hesitated, but there was no objection from Suzie as his hands found their way under her shirt to her bra strap. His breath caught in his throat as he fumbled with the clasp.
    And then all of a sudden Suzie stopped kissing him and rolled off to the side.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Sam said quickly. His voice sounded funny to his ears, rough, like he had been coughing.
    Suzie said nothing, and it took Sam a moment to realize she was pulling her shirt above her head and tossing it on the floor.