The Stranger Read Online Free PDF Page A

shorts?”
    Thomas looked at his father as though a horn had sprung out of his forehead. “Coach says we have to wear the practice shorts to practice.”
    â€œCan’t Justin just bring them to school tomorrow?”
    â€œHe was supposed to bring them today. He forgets.”
    â€œSo what did you use today?”
    â€œKevin had an extra pair. His brother’s. They were too big on me.”
    â€œCan’t you tell Justin to put them in his backpack right now?”
    â€œI could, yeah, but he won’t do it. It’s only like four blocks. I could use the practice driving anyway.”
    Thomas had gotten his learner’s permit a week ago—the parental equivalent of a stress test without using an actual EKG machine. “Okay, I’ll be down in a sec.” Adam cleared the history on the browser and headed downstairs. Jersey was hoping for another walk and gave them the pitiful “I can’t believe you’re not taking me with you” eyes as they hurried past her. Thomas grabbed the keys and got behind the wheel.
    Adam was now able to let go when he sat in the passenger seat. Corinne was too much of a control freak. She would keep shouting out instructions and cautions. She almost put her foot through the imaginary passenger-side brake. As Thomas pulled onto the street, Adam turned and studied his son’s profile. Some acne was forming on his cheeks. There was faint hair growing down the side of his face, Abe Lincoln’s lines if not thickness, but his son had to shave now. Not every day. Not more than once a week, but it was there. Thomas wore cargo shorts. His legs were hairy. He had beautiful blue eyes, his son. Everyone commented on them. They had the sparkling blue of ice.
    Thomas pulled into the driveway, drifting a little close to the right curb.
    â€œI’ll be two seconds,” he said.
    â€œOkay.”
    Thomas put the car in park and sprinted toward the front door. Justin’s mom, Kristin Hoy, opened it—Adam could see the bright shock of blond hair—and that surprised him. Kristin taught at the same high school as Corinne. The two women had grown pretty close. Adam had figured that she’d be down in Atlantic City, but then he remembered that this conference was for history and languages. Kristin taught math.
    Kristin smiled and waved. He waved back. Thomas vanished into the house as Kristin started down the path toward the car. Politically incorrect as it sounded, Kristin Hoy was a MILF. Adam had overheard a bunch of Thomas’s friends saying that, though he could have figured it out on his own. Right now, she was sashaying toward him in painted-on jeans and a tight white top. She was some sort of competitive bodybuilder. Adam wasn’t sure whatkind. Her name had a bunch of letters after it, and she had earned the distinction of being a “pro,” whatever that exactly entailed. Adam had never been a fan of the muscular weight lifting women of old, and in some of her competitive pictures, Kristin did indeed look a little corded and cut. The hair was a little too blond, the smile a little too white, the tan a little too orange, but the look worked pretty damn well in person.
    â€œHey, Adam.”
    He wasn’t sure whether he should get out of the car. He settled for staying in his seat. “Hey, Kristin.”
    â€œCorinne still away?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œBut she’s back tomorrow, right?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll touch base with her. We have to train. I’ve got the states in two weeks.”
    On her Facebook page, she claimed to be a “fitness model” and “WBFF Pro.” Corinne envied her body. They had started working out together recently. Like most things that were good or bad for you, you reach a stage where what started as a happy habit turns into something of an obsession.
    Thomas was back with the shorts.
    â€œâ€™Bye, Thomas.”
    â€œâ€™Bye,