All of This Is True
Page 19
FATIMA
FIVE PERCENT overpowers the entire crowd? How weak can people be?
At wrestling camp, 3 guys took the lead, 5 others went along. Humans are spineless, weak-minded followers.
Getting angrier and angrier by the second. What the actual fuuuuuuuck.
Penny
What would you like to talk about today, Penny?
Well, I’ve been thinking about the designs since the last time you were here. I was too boring for Fatima. I wasn’t main character material. I didn’t have any drama for her to—
[phone buzzes] Excuse me, Penny. I should get this.
Sure.
Hello? Yes. Tell me. Shit. Fuck. Shit. [hangs up]
What? Is Jonah—
He’s brain-dead, Penny.
[breaks down in tears] Oh my god.
I’m sorry, Penny. I’m so sorry. [hands her a tissue]
[Penny’s phone buzzes and buzzes]
Do you want to answer that? It’s probably Soleil’s mom at the hospital.
No. [covers her face] I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to!
Okay, okay. You don’t have to.
[cries] It’s my fault!
Don’t say that. It isn’t your fault.
Yes it is. You know what I did. Everybody knows what I did. None of this would’ve happened if I’d kept my mouth shut.
No, Penny. Listen to me. Fatima made the decision to write it. That was on her.
But it came from me and everything I said was true. It is my fault! I was at Fatima’s house watching television. I felt something buzzing under the sofa cushion; it was Fatima’s phone. I guess she couldn’t find it and so she went out without it. I looked, and it was Jonah calling her. It was ten o’clock at night.
Okay . . .
I knew something was going on! Since the day she came to visit Graham, I knew it. Fatima and Jonah were always looking at each other funny, and sometimes they stopped talking when I walked in the room. I was staring at her phone, and texts started coming in: “Are you out? I thought we were talking again tonight. I’m used to falling asleep hearing your voice . . .” They were all from Jonah. [sniffles]
Shit. Go on.
[wipes tears] I didn’t tell anyone because Soleil wouldn’t listen to me last time. So, that whole night I was tossing and turning about it. I didn’t want to think they were messing around. I thought, maybe Fatima was talking to Jonah about the breakup. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. The next day I said to Jonah, “You haven’t been hanging out with us lately. We miss you. You should come to movie night. You don’t have to date Soleil to still be friends with us. Have you talked to Fatima at all?” and he said no. Why wouldn’t he just tell me they were talking? It bothered me the whole day that he lied, so I . . . [cries] I never meant for this to happen. [breaks down]
I know, Penny. This must be so overwhelming. I’m sorry. But it’s good that you’re telling your side. It’s not fair that we only get Fatima’s version.
[sniffles] After school I followed him to his house. [covers face] Oh my god! I can’t believe he’s brain-dead. [wipes tears] [pauses]
Go on, Penny. It’s okay.
[blows nose] [takes a deep breath] I waited outside his house for a few minutes. The door opened. He came outside with his dog. They walked up the block. He didn’t lock the door behind him, so when he turned the corner, I got out of my car and went into his house. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time, so I went upstairs right away to find his room. I don’t know what I was looking for, anything to prove I wasn’t crazy, that there was something going on besides phone calls.
And you found something.
Yes. [sobs]
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
The first bedroom Paloma opened belonged to Brady’s parents. She found a made bed, folded clothes in a laundry basket, a vacuum plugged into the wall. Paloma stepped inside. There were over a dozen photographs on the dresser, each in a gold or silver frame. One photo was of Brady and his father at a ball game—Citi Field, Paloma guessed, by all the blue and orange in the crowd. Brady was in a red-and-white school letterman jacket. Paloma squinted to make out the patch on his shoulder: SOUTH CARLISLE. Paloma had only asked him about his old school once. All Brady said was “Public school. It sucked.” Her question put him in a bad mood, so she never asked again.
Down the hall, Brady’s room was stuffy, cluttered with video games and clothes on the floor. Paloma ran her fingers along the books on his shelf. 19: The Boys of the Vietnam War, Unsung Heroes, The Greatest Generation, Medical Marvels, Guinness World Records 2010, Guinness World Records 2011, Guinness World Records 2012, The Drowning.
Paloma pulled The Drowning off the shelf. Its spine had never been cracked. She opened to the title page:
For Brady—
What is your precious truth?
Thora Temple
The night of the signing had been a great time. Paloma remembered how awkward Brady was. “Thank you,” he’d said when Thora handed him the book. “Writers are, uh, like, our most important artists.” Marni swatted him on the shoulder. “What? I’m being serious,” Brady insisted. “Writers say things that other people are afraid of saying. And if you think about it, the written word is, like, the cheapest, most convenient, most fulfilling kind of entertainment.”
Paloma laughed to herself and slid the book back into its place. There was probably nothing to find here. Brady was just Brady. The phone calls between him and Thora could be innocent. He was probably getting advice on how to win Sunny back and was too embarrassed to admit it. Paloma turned to leave. But something on the night table caught her attention. Half buried beneath gaming magazines was The Drowning. A different copy. A second copy. Why would Brady have two books? Paloma picked it up and opened it. It was underlined and highlighted, starred and circled and riddled with exclamation points, checks and question marks, and it was annotated, page after page, with Brady’s notes:
Girls sure like floppy-haired new boys in town. I empathize.
Obviously this guy is some kind of major asshole
This imagery blows my mind!
WTF this metaphor???
This is what girls read? Oh, shit!
Holy fuck. Is this porn?
“Sexy times” are no joke
Nice move here, man.
Better sex tips than Maxim mag.
I need a girlfriend.
This language right here making me an emotional wuss
Pregnancy tests. How do these things work?
Forgiveness from all unrighteousness
Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness . . .
There was an inventory receipt from Amazon tucked into back, dated September 9. That was at least a week before the book signing. On the inside cover, Brady had written two questions:
Do you believe in absolution, the cleansing of the body, mind, and soul? Is that why you wrote THE DROWNING?
Miri
Brain-dead. What a total fucking nightmare. [picks up phone] I’m texting Fatima. She’s going to be devastated. [pauses] I don’t even want to think of her reaction. [texts] Don’t ask me if she’s contacted me yet because you know I would’ve told you if she did.
I wasn’t going to ask.
Yes, you were.
You’re right. I was.
NEW YORK CITY MAGAINE
FOUR-PART SERIES
* * *
Stranger Than Fiction
The True Story Behind the Controversial Novel
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
SOLEIL JOHNSTON’S STORY, PART 4 (continued)
* * *
SOLEIL
Penny, where are you?
Are you coming to movie night? It’s late.
Fatima said it’s your turn to choose.
Are you on the way? The choices are book-to-film adaptations:
Atonement, Whip It, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.
> Jonah showed up!!! Fatima asked him to come. I need you to be the buffer.
Where are you? Hurry over!
PENNY
I’m gonna be late. I’m sorry.
You choose the movie.
Is everything OK?
Yeah, just gotta do something first.
I’ll get there as soon as I can.
Penny
I didn’t know what to do after I found the book. I drove away. Then I sat in my car for a while. I remembered South Carmine being in the news, so I searched #SouthCarmine, and I saw there was a party that night.
Oh, man.
Somebody posted the address, so I punched it into my GPS, and I went. [tears up]
Okay.
My navigation sucked. I hate that thing; it kept taking me in circles. I’d never driven to the South Shore before, and I’d only been driving local roads. I had to take the Southern State Parkway. I didn’t know any of the exits off the Southern State. Some of the exists are, like, north-south, some are only north or only south. It was so confusing. I don’t know how I got finally got there, but I did. [takes deep breath] I watched people going in and out. It was weird, you know, watching them. I missed hosting parties. I don’t care if they weren’t intellectual or whatever. I was better at being shallow. [sighs]
Go on.
On #SCParty there were pictures from inside—just the regular stuff, like drinking and dancing, and couples making out. I wasn’t sure about going in, ’cause I didn’t know anybody. I was used to being the host and all that. But then I saw a picture of some guys in South Carmine baseball jackets posing with pool sticks and Solo cups. I figured, maybe they knew Jonah, right?
Logical guess.
I got out of my car and I went in the house. I saw the baseball guys from the picture—one was Jon and another one was Harry and the other was Matt—I read their names off their jackets. I went into the kitchen and got a soda, and I looked at some of the pictures around the house. It sucked not knowing anybody. But then after a few minutes, I just got angry. If I were Soleil I bet a bunch of guys would’ve spoken to me. And when Jonah was new everyone was all, “Hey, who’s the new guy?” It pissed me off, kind of.
I can totally understand that.
I thought about Fatima and how she would act at a party, ’cause she can talk to anybody pretty much anywhere, so that’s how I got my nerve up.
Okay . . .
So I went into the living room and started talking to the baseball players and the girls they were with.
What did you say?
When they asked me who I was with I didn’t know what to say. I just said “Mike,” ’cause usually there’s a Mike.
That was smart.
And then I asked them if they knew Jonah Nicholls.
[silence]
It felt like time stopped. The baseball guys and everyone around, they all stared at me like I was out of a horror show or something. One girl said, “Are you talking about Nicholas Jonna?”
Oh my god.
I just stood there while it sunk in that Jonah changed his name. I didn’t know why he did, but he changed it. Soleil looked up the wrong name when she met him.
Holy . . .
I just played it off in front of them, like, “Oh, yeah. That’s what I mean, Nicholas Jonna.” Then Matt said, “Hey. I’m gonna be courteous to you because you’re a girl. But we’re sick and tired of strangers who come here to ask questions about our private business because they saw some shit about us on the news. And for your information, we don’t talk about that perverted fuck around here.”
Oh, man.
Harry said, “That perverted fuck was down the hall from us at wrestling camp. He fucked up our boy, Daniel. He stood on the dresser and called himself the master of ceremonies and got everyone chanting and jumping on Dan, and he got our wrestling program cut. Nine months in juvie was a joke.” The other guy, Jon, said, “Shut all your mouths. We don’t talk about that shit. EVER. Especially with people who aren’t from here.”
What did you do?
I ran out. I got into my car and I . . . I went straight to Fatima’s. [covers face] I didn’t mean to cause this. I swear. I never meant to hurt him. [sobs]
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
Brady and Thora had been speaking on the phone, but he hadn’t spent time with the group since Almost Famous. When he was new at Morley he’d told himself that these girls were nothing more than company to pass the time with until he graduated, but he actually missed their energy and their banter, which had filled the quiet holes in his life.
The smell of sweet-and-sour sauce, ginger, and sesame made Brady’s stomach rumble. Marni set the takeout bag on the living room table. Brady brought paper plates from the kitchen. He missed General Tso’s chicken from Pearl East almost as much as he missed the girls. He hadn’t been able to say no when Thora had insisted he come over.
“Did they give us enough chopsticks this time?” Brady twisted the cap off his ginger ale.
Marni pulled the chopsticks out of the bag and counted six sets. “A bunch.”
“Here’s your fortune cookie.” Sunny handed Brady a cookie. She knew he always ate them first.
“Thanks.” Of course, Brady missed Sunny most of all. It was terrible avoiding her at school. Once you’ve pulled a girl’s underwear down it’s hard to pretend it never happened. “Is it okay with you that I’m here?” he asked.
“Of course.” Sunny touched Brady’s hand. She felt bad that he’d been keeping his distance and blamed herself for the breakup. She shouldn’t have gone so far with him. “We’re still friends. All of us.”
“Do you think we can talk later tonight—just you and me?” Brady asked.
Sunny smiled. “Okay, sure.”
At that moment, the lock on the sliding door unclicked. Red-faced and panting, Paloma pulled the door open and stepped inside.
“Hey, P! I ordered for you. Shrimp lo mein, right?” Marni asked, as she took containers out of the bag.
Paloma stared Brady down.
“What’s wrong?” Sunny asked.
Thora clutched a container of white rice. “What is it?”
“Let’s ask Stephan,” Paloma said, squeezing her keys so hard that they dug into her palm.
“What are you talking about?” Sunny asked. “Why are you calling him Stephan?”
“What’s going on?” Marni asked.
“I was just at a party at South Carlisle,” Paloma said. “I asked if they knew Brady, and they had a lot to say about that.”
Sunny stood beside Brady. “Paloma, stop. Don’t say it. I already know.”
“You know that he attacked that kid at wrestling camp and you still went out with him?” Paloma said.
Brady took a step back. He didn’t want it to happen this way. He was going to tell Sunny tonight; he had every intention to. Dr. Nihati had warned him that this would happen. Instantly, Brady realized that it was Dr. Nihati, not Thora, who was the wise woman in his life. He should have listened to her.
“What are you talking about?” Sunny asked.
“Do you want to know WWB?” Paloma held her chin high. “Well, his name isn’t Brady Stevenson. It’s Stephan Brady. He was one of the ringleaders at the wrestling training camp that was on the news. He called himself the master of ceremonies and started the chants.”
Brady pulled his hoodie over his head as he backed away toward the front door. He heard Dr. Nihati’s voice in his head. “If Sunny and Thora find out another way, that could be difficult for them and for you.”
“He was in a juvenile detention center for nine months before he came to Morley,” Paloma added. “Ask him. Go ahead.”
Sunny remembered the way Brady had avoided her eyes the day they met, and her dead-end online searches for BRADY STEVENSON. “Brady? Tell me she’s wrong, tell me that it was the other way around.” Sunny’s voice shook. “Wasn’t it?”
Brady looked fro
m Paloma to Marni to Thora.
“Don’t look at them,” Sunny yelled. “Look at me, and tell me it’s not true.” When Brady’s stricken gray eyes met hers, Sunny knew that Brady was a liar. He wasn’t the South Carlisle sophomore. He was someone far worse: a ringleader. “Five percent. It only takes five percent of the group to influence the crowd,” Sunny murmured to herself.
“And this is his.” Paloma reached into her bag and held out Brady’s copy of The Drowning. “He’s been lying about everything. He read this before we even met Thora. He scribbled comments all over it.” Paloma held her shoulders back and quoted Thora. “Your authentic self will always surface. You can’t hide your true self. Not in this house.”
Brady had read it? He’d kept that from her this whole time? Sunny grabbed The Drowning from Paloma’s hands. She flipped it open. There was Brady’s handwriting in the margins, page after page after page. She turned deliberately to chapter eight. Chapter ten. Chapter twelve. Chapter thirteen.
Holy fuck. Is this porn?
“Sexy times” are no joke.
Nice move here, man.
Better sex tips than Maxim mag.
Ugggghhh I need a girlfriend.
I need a girlfriend as horny as this.
Sunny’s chest tightened. The thought of Brady’s hands on her skin, his mouth on her mouth, and his body against her body made her feel filthy, as if she were coated in his crimes and lies.
“Give me that!” Thora grabbed the book. She pored over it for herself. Her hands trembled as she read.
This imagery blows my mind!
WTF this metaphor???
This is what girls read? Oh, shit!
This language right here—making me an emotional wuss
Pregnancy tests. How do these things work?
Forgiveness from all unrighteousness
Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness . . .
Thora checked the title page.