Twisted Fate(32)

Dr. Adams looks interested and concerned when I say things like this but I know Tate will understand completely. I know she will. And I know we are going to be together forever. When I film her, I can feel how real she is. How solid and grounded and real. If anyone knows this world is bullshit and the way around it is to do your own thing, if anyone understands—has ever understood—it’s her.





I knew the thing I had to do was find out what happened between Graham and Ally. She had been keeping things from me, there was no doubt. Acting all weird like there was something she was trying to tell me, but I had been so pissed at her she couldn’t find the courage to do it.

I’d already threatened Graham and I was afraid if I tried to talk to him again, I’d end up rolling around on the floor with him in his room or having to watch some other film that looked like spliced-up surveillance footage from a convenience-store camera and then have to listen to him say that’s what he intended it to look like.

The thing is this. If you pay attention, if you watch the news or pay attention in any way, you know that little towns like ours are always hiding some nut or other. In the case of Graham, I couldn’t tell what he was up to. He filmed Becky. He filmed our neighbors. He filmed himself. Christ, he filmed that little Brian kid talking about freaking X-Men for like an hour. That’s when I knew it was not just artistic inspiration but also something else. Maybe the drugs. Who in the hell can listen to a ten-year-old talk about superheroes with such concentration and attention to detail unless they are using a little Adderall?

I started to worry that he had gotten Allyson to do something she didn’t want to. Or he had footage of us that he’d taken from across the driveway.

I knew I had to get into his house to find out what was going on.

And I would have done it sooner if the whole town hadn’t been swept up in a crisis.

And what happened next was so strange. So unexpected it was even more confusing about who Graham Copeland really was.

I knew the answers were all somewhere in his room. But I never expected what I would find there.





I had been thinking about him nonstop since the ride in his Austin and the long talk we had about his friends and how life was back in Virginia. I was distracted at school. I baked him two batches of muffins. And then finally I asked him to come out on the boat with me and my parents. Of course, Syd would not go. She hated sailing. She used to love it when we were kids but now she had some big grudge against it, like it was stupid or wrong or something our parents did to ignore us.

They didn’t sail to ignore us. The harbor and building was Daddy’s life and if we wanted to be a part of his life, we had to do the things he wanted to do. I don’t know why this was so hard for Syd to understand, but I didn’t really care that much either. It kept her out of our hair and let me have a lot of time with Graham, and it was nice for him to meet our parents without Syd showing up and saying some wise-ass thing or talking about Declan nonstop.

As usual, Daddy didn’t say much. He shook Graham’s hand roughly and gave him a little thump on the back. He said, “Can you sail, then?”

When Graham said no, Daddy shook his head a little and shifted his pipe to the other side of his mouth, then went to rig up the sails. But Mom stood next to him and asked him questions.

She asked him if he’d like a drink and then went below into the hold and made us club sodas and lime, which she put in two plastic martini glasses. She made herself a real martini and then began asking Graham if he was related to certain people she knew in Virginia. Mom was always so charming. I loved the way she talked to people. I think she was probably the best hostess in all of Rockland, maybe in the whole state.

Dad pulled up the anchor and we headed out and I saw the look of joy and fascination on Graham’s face as we tacked out into the middle of the harbor and then the wind picked up and pushed us along.

Mommy and I were wearing matching outfits and Daddy sat gazing out at the ocean, manning the rudder and shouting to me to handle the rigging. “Ready about! Hard-a-lee. Dammit, gal, I said hard to the leeward side—we don’t want to lose our wind.”

I showed Graham how to do it and he looked so happy it was amazing. He had his camera with him, of course. He’d attached it to the brim of his hat and I’m sure it was capturing some beautiful footage of the sea.

Once we were cruising along for some time Graham and I sat on the bow together and felt the wind and talked.

“You’re incredible,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Never met a family like yours.”

I couldn’t believe he was talking to me this way. I’m a very simple person and I know it. But he acted like I was something so complex. Like I was special.

“No one has more secret skills than you,” he said. “You’re full of surprises every time I turn around.”





To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]



Dear Dr. Adams,



The new regimen seems to be working well for Graham. He’s been more focused and self-assured and seems to have developed a bit of a social life. Kim says he’s been having some friends over and watching movies. We’re beginning to feel that he might be able to transition into some healthy way of using media in his life.