Adam by Ariel Schrag Read Free Book Online Page B

no idea. I have to listen to two sets of nasty sex happening twenty-four/seven on both sides of my walls—”
    â€œNasty
straight
sex,” interjected June.
    â€œPlus the food is making me fat. Plus I hate everyone.”
    â€œYou don’t hate
me!
” said June.
    â€œI don’t mean I hate everyone at
school
,” said Casey. “Mainly just everyone on my floor. Did you know most buildings don’t even have a thirteenth floor? ’Cause it’s unlucky, you know? This floor shouldn’t even exist.”
    â€œYou should have signed up for a Carman suite like I did,” said June. “But, whatever, at least we’re rooming together next year.”
    Adam noticed Casey flinch almost imperceptibly.
    â€œI’m just ready to start living in the real world already,” said Casey. “Enough of this sheltered-bubble stuff. It’s, like, we’re nineteen—we shouldn’t have to be signing people in, checking in with the fucking RA about everything. And I’m sick of not being able to drink in my room.”
    â€œI’m gonna spend the whole fucking summer
baked
,” said June.
    Adam glanced at Casey. He knew she didn’t like smoking pot either. They’d bonded over it at least a million times.
    â€œHell yeah!” said Casey, knuckle-bumping June.
    Traitor.
    â€œLet’s get the fuck out of here!” said Casey, and she jumped off the bed.
    ***
    It took two trips to load all of their stuff into the cab that was waiting for them at the corner of Amsterdam and 117th. June made a big show of rolling her sleeves over her shoulders and acting all chivalrous carrying Casey’s heavy things—“Hey, lemme get that one.” “Put that down! I got it”—and didn’t even thank Adam when he in turn carried down all of June’s heavy shit. The cabdriver didn’t want anyone up front, so the three of them squished in the back with all their stuff that didn’t fit in the trunk. Casey in the bitch seat.
    Adam had only ridden in a cab a couple times in his life. The idea of it freaked him out. You’re supposed to get in a car with a total stranger and just trust that they’ll take you where you want to go? All your life it’s
“Never get in a car with a stranger, never get in a car with a stranger,”
then, all of a sudden, you’re in New York and it’s
“Get in a car with a stranger!”
    Casey and June were blathering on, oblivious, but if their driver—who was currently conspiring into a headpiece in a language Adam couldn’t understand—decided he wanted to kidnap them and rape the girls (or at least Casey), it would be up to Adam to stop him. What kind of surveillance did they have on these cabs anyway? Were they connected to a GPS in some headquarters? Adam imagined a clean office with a friendly white man monitoring the cabs on a computer system. He realized if their cabdriver looked like the white man he imagined in the office, he probably wouldn’t feel nervous right now. That thought made him uncomfortable though, so he decided to think about something else. He looked out the window at all the old brick buildings going by—there were barely any brick buildings in California. It was because of earthquakes.
    After a long drive through different neighborhoods and over a bridge, the cab pulled up in front of the apartment in Bushwick. Adam, Casey, and June piled out, unloaded their stuff from the trunk, and dumped it onto the sidewalk. Casey paid the driver and the cab sped off.
    This was their building: 206 Scholes Street. A bunch of tough-looking guys were sprawled out on the front steps, drinking and smoking, listening to music. Adam saw them looking at him and felt dumb standing there in a huddle with Casey and June and June’s five-foot-tall pink flamingo lamp.
    â€œI’m supposed to call the landlord,” said Casey, taking out her cell.