Penny
Fatima had the cutest cat, little Mulder. He looked like a kitten, but Fatima said he was full grown. He was gray with little white feet. So sweet. He had this fuzzy toy on a stick that was really gross. It was like a chunk of chewed-up rat fur. He loved it, though. I was playing with him for a while, but when the party got loud, he hid in the bedroom. Fatima saw how much I liked him, so she asked me if I wouldn’t mind coming by to feed him once in a while, like, if she was out late or whatever.
Great.
It was flattering to be asked. It was nice to know that she trusted me. She gave me the key to the sliding door.
Did you end up doing that? Going over to feed the cat?
A ton of times. She texted me when she needed me. I started to bring her some design stuff, too.
Like what?
At first, I brought a bunch of paint chips with yellows and oranges. She circled two colors that she liked, so the next time I came I brought her the two samples and those mini sponge brushes. I was like, Fatima Ro’s totally gonna paint her house a color that I brought! I couldn’t believe I had her phone number and her key. I still can’t believe any of this happened, to be honest.
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
Brady’s eyes widened at the sight of the indoor basketball court with crisp blue and white lines. Sunlight filtered through skylights onto the yellow letters TRP, which were probably Paloma’s father’s initials. Brady knew Paloma had money. Her Range Rover gave that away. He just didn’t know she had indoor-basketball-court money. This is what he’d come to see: the way the Morley kids lived. There were stories of over-the-top parties at this house. Brady thought he’d come by, check out the luxe life, and then leave. No need to get attached.
The hardwood court was so shiny Brady could’ve eaten off of it. It’d be incredible to play on it. He could almost hear his sneakers squeaking and the ball swishing through the basket. He missed the pure rough-and-tumble physicality of sports—not only of his sport, but all of them. At Morley, he held back in PE by pretending to be uninterested. Consequently, when captains chose teams, Brady got picked maybe ninth or tenth or twelfth: after guys who played a junior varsity sport but before the skinny kid with a peanut allergy bracelet. At his old school he was always chosen first. None of that mattered anymore, though—that’s what Brady told himself. He was done with that nonsense of being first, of winning and losing.
“Do you want to shoot?” Sunny asked, seeing how impressed Brady was. “People come over to play all the time. Paloma won’t mind. If her dad’s home he’ll come down and join you.”
“Nah.” It would feel too good to let loose on a court like that. Brady didn’t want to be reminded of life as an athlete.
“It’s a nice court, isn’t it?” Sunny asked.
“Nice?” Brady laughed. Sunny obviously had money, too. Most of the kids at Morley Academy did. The degree of difference could only be measured by the size of their toys. Brady wasn’t rich. His Morley tuition came from his grandparents, who insisted that their only grandson get another chance at success.
“Do you play any sports?” Sunny asked as she continued the house tour through a wine cellar with a hidden door to the game room.
“I wrestle,” Brady blurted out of habit. He caught himself and shook his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“You do?” Surprised, Sunny turned and placed her hand on the billiard table. “Wait. You’re on the team?” She hadn’t seen him with any of the wrestlers at school. He hadn’t made any friends at school yet, as far as she could tell, which was one reason she had invited him tonight.
“No. I meant I used to wrestle,” Brady stammered. “I don’t now.”
“Oh . . . why not?”
“Uh . . .” He pulled the strings of his sweatshirt. “I just don’t.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” Sunny spun carefully on her heel. This wasn’t going well. “You’re better off anyway. Our wrestling team sucks. Not kidding. Lacrosse, that’s our big thing. And girls’ soccer. And boys’ soccer. And swimming. Oh, and girls’ fencing. Basically anything but wrestling.” How could she get Brady to open up if he got defensive so easily? No more questions, she decided. She’d stick to on-the-surface topics and hope to get to know him better from there, let him sit back and get comfortable first.
Miri
My phone just buzzed. Excuse me. [checks phone]
No problem.
Phew. It’s nothing. [sighs] It’s my mom from upstairs. She wants to know how much longer we’ll be.
Just a few more minutes for today.
Okay. [texts back] I’m sure that if something happens, I’d get a call, but still. I can’t stop checking my texts.
That’s all right. Miri, how did your parents feel about your friendship with Fatima?
They were ecstatic.
Were they? Why was that?
[laughs] Are you kidding? My parents adored her. They’re divorced; they argue about the weather, but they agreed about Fatima. I’ll ask my mom for you. [texts] “Mom, what did you think of Fatima?” [looks up] They watched her interviews online and thought she was such a doll. They were dying to meet her but never had the chance. Mom kept telling me, “That girl is so well-spoken! It’s good to associate with quality people, Miri. You should write that you’re friends with her in your college applications!” [laughs] Which I did. And it worked, mind you. I’m going to Brown.
Congratulations.
Thank you. [phone buzzes] [reads text] She wrote, “Good kid. Very smart. Media is bloodthirsty.” Well, there you have it. Before Fatima came around, my parents hated the direction my social life was taking.
I guess they weren’t big on the scene.
They thought the parties were a gateway to becoming a cokehead. “We built our businesses with sweat, not parties with pigs in a blanket!” [laughs] That’s Mr. Tan. The only reason they tolerated the hosting was because I arranged to donate ten percent of the money to charity. I picked Dress for Success, which provides women in need with professional wardrobes for job interviews and such.
Nice.
I know. Fund-raising looked great on my transcript. That’s why my folks eased up about the hosting. But when I took up with a successful author who stayed in on Saturday nights to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? My parents were beyond relieved. By the way, we never served pigs in a blanket—just for the record. We would rather have starved. [phone buzzes] [texts back] “Okay, Mom! Stop texting now. It freaks me out because of Jonah! I’ll tell you when we’re done.” [looks up] Sorry, Nelson. She wants to come down for a snack, but she’s afraid of the camera.
She can come down. I can put this on hold for a few minutes.
No, no. Her hair’s in rollers. She’s not coming down.
I don’t mind.
She minds. [sighs] [drinks from a water bottle] Anyway, I know that this is going to sound terrible, but the truth is that Jonah was a tragic YA character the second he walked through the Graham gate. Of course Fatima wrote about him! He had that brooding, mysterious thing happening. It begged for—no—it screamed for attention. That’s why we were all so hung up on WWJ in the first place.
WWJ?
“What’s with Jonah?” It was a thing between Soleil, Penny, and me because Jonah was so private. Before Fatima came into the picture we already had this little game going on to figure him out. We’d text each other “WWJ” sometimes a dozen times a day and hypothesize about his secret life.
What were some of the hypotheses?
Oh, we took it to a stupid level most of the time. I’m thoroughly embarrassed by it. I admit it. For example, one time at Fatima’s house, Soleil was in Fatima’s closet, looking through her dresses. Jonah sort of flipped out and went on this tirade about it being an invasion of privacy. It was the most random reaction, especially since Fatima was fine with it. She was fully transparent with us by that time. We didn’
t know what to think of Jonah’s fit. So the girls and I texted each other, “WWJ?” And I joked, “He’s into women’s clothes, and the sight of the black-and-white DVF wrap dress pushed him over the top.” [shakes head] I told you, it was stupidity. I shouldn’t have said that. But in all honesty, our curiosity about Jonah came from a place of concern. Like Fatima, we cared about him. We wanted to know what was going on in his head so that we could support him in whatever way we could.
NEW YORK CITY MAGAZINE
FOUR-PART SERIES
* * *
Stranger Than Fiction
The True Story Behind the Controversial Novel
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
SOLEIL JOHNSTON’S STORY, PART 1 (continued)
* * *
DATE: September 26, 2016
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Dear Fatima
Dear Fatima,
Thank you for having all of us at your housewarming. We had such a great time, and I was really inspired by your notes on Undertow. I hope you like the horseshoe gift. You’re right—it’s supposed to go over the door. But I still can’t figure out if it should point up or down for good luck. I’ve seen myths for both ways, so I guess whichever way you prefer is fine.
I know what you mean about Jonah. He’s sweet but so distant, with “a lot of blanks to fill in,” as you said. You asked me to start writing to you with what I already know, so I’ll start with studio art class, since that’s where we met. For his “Social Commentary” project he made a sculpture out of all his old computer and phone chargers. Ms. Largos, our art teacher, said it spoke volumes about the wastefulness of modern society and the American family’s monstrous hamster wheel of consumerism. It was the first time I saw Jonah smile, so I asked him to hang out with us. That night he came over to Penny’s house. I let him in and gave him the grand tour while Penny and Miri were downstairs in Penny’s home theater.
I’ll write more soon.
Soleil
P.S. I’m working on a mixed-media art piece called Doors, it’s a metaphor for the secrets people keep. Is it okay if I use a photo of your front door? No name or address or anything. If you’re interested you can see the project on my Instagram #LargosStudioArt. It’d be awesome if you want to follow me. If not, that’s okay. Just thought I’d share.
Penny
The news keeps using the word “sensational” to describe everything that’s happened. I always thought that sensational meant something positive, like the same thing as “fantastic.” But I guess it means more like entertaining?
Yes. Something that stirs up interest, causes a sensation. Does this surprise you?
Everything surprises me. I’ve been surprised for over a year.
That’s understandable.
Can I ask you something?
All right.
Do you know where Fatima is now?
No.
Would you tell me if you did?
I don’t see why not.
Okay. Well, I hope little Mulder’s all right. He had the sweetest little face.
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
Sunny led Brady to the back staircase and talked about a safer subject than Brady’s athletic history—the fact that there was a screening room downstairs with surround sound, a stocked concession stand, and an enormous U-shaped sofa.
In the basement, Paloma and Marni turned but did not get up from the ridiculously large couch that made them look like toddlers.
“Hi! Welcome to marathon night!” Paloma lifted her soda.
Brady pulled his tattered gray hoodie off his head.
“Check you out in civilian clothing,” Marni said. “Loving this whole Morley Academy fugitive look you have going on.”
“Hi.” He waved awkwardly and then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for, uh, inviting me.”
“He speaks.” Marni hit Sunny on the arm playfully.
Sunny was pleased that her friends seemed to like Brady, because she was hoping he would come around more often from now on. Good-looking guys were usually so loud, always horsing around in order to make their presence known. Their company was overbearing after the first twenty minutes. Brady’s shyness made him so much more appealing than the tiresome hot guys of Morley.
The girls bickered rhythmically, as if their conversations were rehearsed. They quipped about which episode to start from, how long to microwave chocolate syrup, and whether Stainmaster carpeting was a brand of carpet or a special coating that could be added to any carpet. Amused by the girls’ banter, Brady laughed quietly to himself. He was surprised at how relaxing it was to hang out with girls. The energy was higher but also gentler than palling around with his former guy friends, who, now that he thought about it, were constantly competing: with video games, with who should get the last slice of pizza, with whose sneakers were cleaner, whose car was the shittiest, nearly everything. It was also a relief to discover that while he was in the girls’ company, he wasn’t alone, but yet, he wasn’t the center of attention.
Brady’s parents wanted him to focus on schoolwork at Morley. But grades weren’t going to be a problem now that he wasn’t wrestling; there was more time than ever to study. He was eating better, too—he couldn’t stop eating—since he didn’t have to worry about making weight for tournaments. Food, so much more of it, helped him to concentrate better in class. As long as he was doing well in school, his parents would be happy. It couldn’t hurt to spend a little bit of time with these girls.
As it turned out, Brady liked the home theater even better than the basketball court. The snacks were top quality, it was dark, and when Paloma pressed Play on the girls’ favorite show, Brady didn’t have to say a word.
Miri
[laughs] We forced Jonah to watch a Pretty Little Liars marathon. He was totally fine with it, so right then and there, I figured that settled Jonah’s big secret. Obviously, Jonah was gay! Straight guys can’t watch PLL without commenting on a girl-on-girl kiss. No way!
Sounds like a reasonable litmus test to me.
Right? He was so totally gay! Once in a while Jonah asked who was who and who did what, but basically that was all he said—no typical guy remarks about boobs, asses, or the girls’ tiny little skirts. He mostly just listened to our commentary. Oh, and he ate all the Red Vines.
Did you share your assessment with Soleil and Penny?
Of course. I texted them. I felt like I won the whole game.
You texted them while you were with Jonah on the sofa?
It’s a huge sofa.
Okay. So what did they have to say about Jonah being gay?
Penny texted back, “Ohhhhhhhh!” with a dozen Hs. Soleil said she didn’t believe it. She didn’t get the gay vibe from him, as if she was some kind of expert. Clearly, she didn’t want to believe it because she wanted to jump him. I called her on it, but she texted, “Just friends, I swear.” But I knew that she had a thing for him. Jonah was definitely her type with his pale skin and the messy hair and his square shoulders. [laughs] Soleil has this thing for square shoulders and good posture. She says it emits confidence. To each her own. I texted her, “You’re wearing your water bra.” How obvious could she get? It’s not like she was wearing that contraption for us. But she texted back, “No!!! It’s laundry day—no other bras left!” Soleil is the world’s worst liar. But whatever. They’re her boobs. [glances off to the side] Excuse me, Nelson? Do you mind if we pull the shades down a bit? I just caught my reflection in that mirror over there, and this lighting is not flattering at all.
NEW YORK CITY MAGAZINE
FOUR-PART SERIES
* * *
Stranger Than Fiction
The True Story Behind the Controversial Novel
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
SOLEIL JOHNSTON’S STORY, PART 1 (continued)
* * *
FROM: fatima
[email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Dear Fatima
Genuine human connections require sharing something of substance. When I wrote Undertow I bled on those pages—and this is what I get in return??? Don’t ever send me a “Dear Fatima” letter again.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Dear Fatima
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. What should I send you?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Dear Fatima
Figure it out.
Penny
Tell me about WWJ.
What?
WWJ.
How do you know about that?
[no response]
Did Miri tell you about it? She’s saying that Jonah getting hurt is my fault, isn’t she? She’s throwing me under the bus!
I didn’t say that.
I didn’t mean anything by WWJ, I cross my heart. [crosses her heart] It was nothing serious.
What was it, then?
It started when Soleil first invited Jonah to my house. I didn’t know him, but it was okay, a lot of kids come by, like I said, no big deal. But he was new, and I thought we would get to know him a little, but we were all on my sofa watching TV and trying to joke around with him, and he barely said a word. It was, like, way awkward.
So I texted, “What’s with Jonah?” to Soleil and Miri. Miri texted back that he was gay, and that made sense, you know?
Okay.
That’s how the whole WWJ thing started. But it was never supposed to turn into anything. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I never expected to find out about—
[silence]
Penny?
It’s late. You should probably go.
Just a few more—
I can’t. I have final exams soon. I’m not a brain like everyone else. I have to study. My parents already planned my graduation party.
All of This Is True Page 5
