“What underwear?” Brady said, pulling the elastic down.
“Hey, do you have something?” Sunny asked. She hadn’t expected a sexy time tonight.
“No. Damn.” Brady paused. He hadn’t expected this either. “I bet Thora does.”
Sunny rolled over to open the nightstand. Condoms in a purple box. “Score.” She took one from the pack and handed it to Brady.
Talk of Thora added another dimension of excitement for Brady. Lying in Thora’s bed, with her T-shirt shoved under the covers and holding one of her condoms in his palm, Brady felt almost as if he were with both girls at the same time. Sunny had her hair up like Thora, she even smelled like her—like vanilla and coconut—and it was driving him out of his mind. He moaned into Sunny’s neck.
“Do you know how to put that thing on?” Sunny asked.
“I’ll figure the shit out of it,” Brady said, determined to catch up after a year of falling behind when it came to girls.
Sunny felt sexy and fearless in Thora’s bed, like the author herself. She knew this was right. It felt natural. Sunny laced her fingers between Brady’s just as Jules had done with Sam in The Drowning, chapter thirteen. Fiction and real life intertwined as Brady kissed her slowly at first and then with more urgency. It felt as if she and Brady were reading each other’s minds.
Sunny teased, “Look into my eyes, and tell me what you want from this life.”
“Oh, I think you can feel exactly what I want,” Brady answered. Sunny laughed, arching her back. This turned Brady on even more. “Get ready,” he said, “because I’m about to give you my precious truth.” Sunny laughed again. “How much time do you think we have?” Brady asked.
“Depends how her date goes,” Sunny answered, eager to continue. “Either thirteen minutes or thirteen hours. Let’s not think about it.”
Brady stopped with his hand holding Sunny’s panties halfway down her thighs. “Why did you say that?” Wrestling camp flooded back to Brady’s mind. Thirteen minutes of yelling, begging, crying, laughing, the smell of beer in the air. Those thirteen minutes torched his life.
“What?” Sunny asked, confused.
“Why did you say thirteen minutes?” Brady asked louder. What had Sunny read? How much did she know? Was she thinking about South Carlisle right before they were about to do it? Sunny would never sleep with him if she knew the full story. Brady knew that beyond question. Sunny didn’t know who she was with.
“It was just a random number,” Sunny said. “What’s wrong?” Suddenly it hit her: thirteen minutes. That’s how long the attack was at wrestling camp. She’d read it in an article. The victim’s attorney reprimanded the attackers for being unable to make the right choice for thirteen minutes. Sunny covered her face. Shit, shit, shit.
Brady stood and hiked his pants up.
“Are you okay?” Sunny asked, pulling at her own clothes.
“Yeah, yeah, uh,” he stammered, crumpling the condom into his pocket. “It’s just weird doing this here, isn’t it? In her bed?”
“I guess it is a little,” Sunny lied. It wasn’t weird for her, not at all.
“It’s like she’s watching us or something,” Brady said, putting his T-shirt and sweatshirt back on.
Sunny sat up. “Oh, I know. I was just going to say . . . it’s a little too much universe sharing. Awkward.”
“We should get on the road. It’s supposed to get icy.” Brady waited in the doorway. He didn’t want to stay here too long and regret it later. A good boyfriend always thinks about things like dark roads and black ice and regret.
Miri
[checks phone]
Any news?
No. It’s just that I’ve been trying to get in touch with Emma Irving since the arrests. I haven’t been able to catch her around school either; it’s so strange. We’re supposed to plan an Undertow meeting.
You’ve still been meeting?
No reason to stop. We made major headway with the theory. Our last two meetings at the Witches Brew we included kids from other private schools—Harbor Academy and Porter Ridge. The plan is to expand our network for professional as well as personal benefits. We’ve been accepted to universities all over the country. We can help each other down the line. It’s all about who you know. It sounds elitist, but that’s just how things are.
I’m impressed with your plans.
Well, I’ve decided to go to law school. Some of the parents and siblings of Undertow members are in law. These people are important connections for me. We intend to share a bigger universe together. You see, that’s what it means to take an idea and expand upon it in your own way. Fatima would be . . . well, if she were here, Fatima would be proud. [laughs]
What’s funny?
I wish I knew where “hashtag Fatima was.” [uses air quotes]
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 3 (continued)
* * *
SOLEIL
I’m really sorry to bother you on your date.
FATIMA
It’s okay! Is everything all right?
This is what happens when I live in denial and pretend everything’s normal.
What happened?
He wasn’t ready for a girlfriend. He definitely wasn’t ready for sex. He freaked out. He didn’t say a word to me in the car home. I’m humiliated.
Shit.
I’m so stupid—playing King and Queen of the prom in my head, thinking a walk on the beach could heal the South Carmine sophomore.
I totally pushed you into it.
No, no. I’m selfish. It was me. I’m a screw-up.
I’m so sorry . . .
I have to go. I’m sorry I ruined your date.
You didn’t. Call or text me later if you want.
Thx. Bye.
Penny
Soleil didn’t want to talk about what happened that night. All she wanted to do was work on #DoorsAsAMetaphor in the art room. I went in there to see her. She was, like, fixated on it. She had to finish by holiday break.
What was she doing with it?
You can see the pictures on Instagram: #LargosStudioArt. She cut openings behind every door. She had to use this serious blade tool thingy and wear safety goggles. It was hardcore DIY; I don’t even know how she learned to use that machine. The project turned out kinda interesting, though. She clamped it onto another piece of wood, and then she sliced all the door photos with a razor so that they each opened up. The whole thing reminded me of one of those Christmas calendars that people put chocolate in.
Advent calendars?
Yeah! It was like one of those, except giant. And then she cut strips of black velvet—she let me help her—we lined the insides like jewelry boxes.
What’d she put inside the boxes?
Nothing yet.
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
The Drowning remained on Dr. Nihati’s desk beside Brady’s file folder week after week. Brady wondered if she took it out specifically for his meetings or if it was on her desk all the time. What would Dr. Nihati think of Thora writing a character about him? She was bound to read the new book and recognize him. Dr. Nihati might be jealous of Thora’s impact on his life compared to the therapy sessions.
Brady picked up a Matchbox car from the coffee table. This metallic blue car with a white racing stripe looked and felt very familiar. He must’ve had the same one as a kid, or maybe one of his friends did. “I wasn’t going to come back here,” Brady said to Dr. Nihati. “I got tired of coming, to be honest.”
“I was getting that impression.” Dr. Nihati picked up her memo pad. “What made you come back?”
“You know that I have to come.” Brady ran the Matchbox car back and forth against his palm. “Then
I thought . . . I should just go and say yes to everything but do whatever I want anyway.” Brady pushed the car along the edge of his chair.
“I see. Why are you telling me this?”
“Because then I changed my mind again and thought that I should come for real and get help.”
“I’m glad you decided to return, and not just because you have to.” Dr. Nihati relaxed her shoulders. “What is it you want help with?”
“I guess I just want to know about talking to people more—how I would go about doing that—if I decide to.” Brady had already blown it with Sunny. He might as well be inside/out with her now.
“Recognizing that you need help is excellent progress for you.” Dr. Nihati’s words were optimistic, but her voice was monotone. Brady didn’t blame her for mistrusting him; usually he was full of crap. “Let’s talk about what you want to disclose at this point and the different ways you can possibly go about doing it.”
If Brady was going to do this, he’d have to tell all of it. Everything. What more could he lose?
Miri
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Emma Irving called herself a sucker for trusting Fatima Ro. She also called Fatima a whack job.
[laughs] She did not.
She did. And just this morning she tweeted that Fatima Ro was a sick, manipulative phony. She posted it with a selfie with Fatima from Book Revue. It’s all over the internet today.
Bull. Shit.
Go ahead. Look it up.
[checks her phone] What the fuck!? We were a team. How could she do this?
I’m sorry.
[texts furiously] Emma! You traitorous bitch!
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 4
* * *
DATE: November 30, 2016
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: AP Psych continued
Jonah hasn’t spoken to me since that night. It should’ve gone differently.
I wanted to.
He wanted to.
We were ready.
We were laughing right up to the moment it went wrong. I can’t stop thinking about that—that he can laugh one second and then be completely fucked up over South Carmine the next. I hate the assholes who messed him up this badly.
I’m in AP Psych right now studying Gustave Le Bon on the “psychological crowd.” Did you know that in a group people feel and act differently than they would on their own?
Individuals feel less responsible for their actions. Ms. Halpin said this can lead to excitement and violence. Sometimes this can lead to acts of heroism. When in doubt, people follow what the crowd is doing in order to avoid embarrassment. Even imagined intoxication can contribute to an individual’s participation in group violence.
“Sometimes this can lead to acts of heroism.” HEROISM? Does this mean that wrestling camp could have gone either way? Why didn’t anyone do the right thing? It’s eating me up inside.
One article mentioned that the South Carmine boys got camp T-shirts, which they wore the night of the attack. Imagine the team all dressed alike. When people hide behind a costume they tend to behave less like individuals and more like a single-minded mob. It’s like warriors painting their faces before battle.
The camp T-shirts were army green. Army green! That very color encourages conformity and falling into line with the group! This kills me. There must’ve been one or two or three who knew it was wrong to hurt Jonah. But because they didn’t want to be embarrassed, they joined in? I want to throw up just thinking about this. What happened to the possibility of heroism? What would’ve made the difference? What turned the boys into monsters rather than heroes?
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: AP Psych continued
Imagined intoxication!?? THIS! THIS! THIS! I have been wondering about this for weeks: How could a team of athletes drink and then show up at training camp in the morning and perform at a championship level? The answer is they didn’t get drunk. They were hardly even drinking.
I knew it, I knew it. It wasn’t the alcohol that made them violent. It was the group dynamic. They assaulted Jonah under imagined intoxication, which made them feel less responsible for their behavior. What a sick excuse for behaving like beasts.
Penny
I missed having Jonah around. He stopped hanging out with us after he broke up with Soleil.
That’s too bad.
He did come by my house once, though.
He did?
Uh-huh, to help me with something.
What?
He brought me a piece of poster board from the scrap pile in the art room. He said that I should make a design board for Fatima like the ones on the home makeover shows on HGTV, you know, like with a color scheme, materials samples, that kinda stuff. He said Fatima was probably just having trouble visualizing my ideas ’cause I was bringing examples piece by piece. Jonah thought if I had a better presentation she could appreciate it more.
Jonah did that?
Yeah. It surprised me, too. His mom watches the home channels all the time; that’s why he thought of it. He was bored, I guess, so he asked if he could stay and work on it with me.
Oh! He actually helped you make it?
[laughs] It was kinda fun. Do you want to see it?
Sure!
Okay. You can follow me up. [walks inside and up the stairs to the bedroom]
[opens closet] [takes out poster board of colors/fabrics/magazine clippings] This is it. [sets board on desk] Up here in the corner is a digital layout we did on the computer. We found a design planner online that we downloaded free. [points] If Fatima knocked the wall down between the kitchen and the living area, it would’ve looked like this. See?
That looks great.
It would’ve opened up the space a lot. [points] And over here I realized that her bedroom closet was back-to-back with the linen closet in the hallway, so I broke that wall down, too, in order to make a bigger master closet. I know she’d lose space for the linens, but it would’ve been worth the loss of space, I think. Who doesn’t want a bigger master closet?
Nobody.
And you could get a shelving thingy for towels and use a drawer in the bedroom for sheets. In any case, a designer is supposed to customize for the individual client. That’s what they say on the show Fixer Upper. Fatima loved clothes as much as I do, maybe more, if that’s possible. So that’s why the master closet made sense.
Makes sense to me.
I did a white-on-white backdrop with teal and orange punches of color. And I put pictures of upholstery and drapery and carpets from magazines and catalogs.
I like it.
I tried. I wanted to keep the feel of the time period. See, I did chrome fixtures with touches of gold to go with the pendant lights from the sixties. Metals don’t always have to match, you know? Mixing and matching metals adds, like, more depth to the space.
I see that. Very elegant.
Thank you. It was fun putting it together with Jonah. We got into it. This carpeting was his idea. [points to a picture]
Did you show this to Fatima?
I brought it to her house one night and left it on her kitchen table.
What’d she say?
It took her two days to text me.
Ouch.
And she said, “Thanks for the poster! Can you pick up some oatmeal if you have the chance?”
Double ouch.
The Absolution of Brady Stevenson
BY FATIMA RO
(excerpt)
THORA
Turn on Channel 4—there’s a thing
happening in Queens called “flash
mob robberies.”
Groups
of guys bursting
into convenience stores and
taking anything they want!
SUNNY
YOU CAN SEE THEM on the
surveillance! Are they idiots?!!!
The “psychological crowd” mentality!
They don’t even realize that we can see
their individual faces on camera.
Awful . . . I never should’ve pretended
that Brady was okay.
We both wanted to believe it. I’m sorry
things went so badly. I’m more sorry it
happened at my house.
Not your fault.
I still feel like shit about it. Are you
guys still together?
We barely talked at all, so I don’t
think so. ☹
So sorry. ☹☹☹
Miri
What happens next with the guys who jumped Jonah?
Well, they’re in police custody now for questioning. There will be an arraignment where the prosecutor will present the case and the charges. The boys have all secured attorneys, so depending on what they negotiate, they may or may not go to trial. The charges will depend on . . . well, I’ll just say that these kids better hope and pray that Jonah makes it.
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 4 (continued)
* * *
SOLEIL
I just read that it only takes 5% of the group to influence the whole crowd. Everyone else just follows along.
All of This Is True Page 18