Tiger Read Free

in the right place.
    Wally checked the time on the wall— 10 : 20 A.M. —and guessed that Lewis wouldn’t be in for a half hour. Both of the other caseworkers, Carmen Black and Peter Maduro, were out in the field, not due back until the end of the week.
    Wally turned on her computer and started her usual slog of data entry, but the silence quickly became awkward. There was no harm in having a regular conversation with the guy.
    â€œI’m guessing we’re about the same age,” she said. “You go to school in the city?”
    â€œSexton,” he said, “since I was five. I’m a junior. But I haven’t been in a week and I’m not going back.”
    The sudden force of Kyle’s declaration took Wally by surprise, and she studied him for a moment. The Sexton Academy was a private school on the Upper West Side, and Wally could see that Kyle—a more together version of Kyle than he was right now, anyway—would naturally fit in there. She pictured him in the dark blue blazer, colorfully striped school tie, and light khakis that made up the uniform, a Sexton insignia on the breast pocket of the blazer, of course.
    Wally herself grew up in that privileged part of town, and she remembered the Sexton boys making the two-block trek from the school to the athletic-practice fields in Central Park, wearing their full sports gear. Wally could picture Kyle in that scenario too, a lacrosse stick slung over his shoulder with helmet and gloves hanging off the end, striding easily along the city streets with his Prep friends, a mob of handsome, born-to-rule guys with endless wealth and success in their future. Oftentimes, girls from nearby sister schools would linger on Central Park West to flirt with the boys as they ambled by.
    Wally wondered what secrets those girls knew about Kyle.
    â€œWhat about you?” he asked.
    â€œI’m currently reevaluating my educational options.”
    â€œCool. Me too.”
    Another silence fell, but Kyle seemed restless and eager to keep talking.
    â€œMy mom, her name was Laura,” he said, clearing his throat. “She died two years ago, a car accident on the Parkway. October sixteenth.”
    â€œOh . . . that’s awful. I’m really sorry, Kyle.” He was being unexpectedly candid, intriguing Wally but also making her feel a little cautious.
    â€œMy father, he’s . . . I’m sorry, he’s a total fucking prick, like a weapons-grade asshole. And he’s probably . . . ” Kyle hesitated, as if nervous about a leap he was about to take. “Not even probably , he’s definitely a dangerous person. So now he tells me that he’s going to marry this new woman. Deandra. Whatever. Some art dealer or something—I met her once for like two minutes. So my dad and I got into it. I mean, I don’t really give a shit who he wants to marry. . . . ”
    The words were spilling out of Kyle now, a stream of anger and sadness. His lower lip trembled and his face flushed red in embarrassment. Wally suddenly realized that Kyle wasn’t about to wait for Lewis to arrive—he was plowing forward and laying out his story right now . . . for her. It crossed Wally’s mind that she could stop him, but she didn’t want to.
    â€œIt’s like he got over my mother so fast,” Kyle went on. “Really fast, like in days. So we had this fight, and he tells me how I idealized my mom too much and that, by the way, she’s not even really my mother. Then he says he was with another woman before my mom, but she went psycho and took off right after she gave birth to me.”
    â€œThat’s a lot for you to hear, all at once,” she said.
    â€œI mean, my old man is a total liar, and I don’t believe anything he said about my birth mother. I want to find out who she is. And meet her, you know? But my father . . . he’ll never