Onscreen, Jeremy Gordon presses forward. “Sloane, have there been any statements from the alleged victim in this case?”
“Not a word,” says Sloane. “As you know it’s the policy of our organization and the media at large not to report the name or identifying details of the victim in situations such as these. But I have to say, Jeremy, with this video as evidence of the prevailing sentiment here in Coral Sands, it can’t be easy for her. I imagine the young woman must be feeling intimidated, and quite alone.”
Sloane says these words with a quiet determination that telegraphs a simple message: I will get to the bottom of this. As she says them, the screen cuts away from the two-shot and back to the grainy cell-phone video, Sloane’s long pan of what appears to be the whole school, yelling in defiant solidarity with Coach Sanders. The basketball team and entire student body chanting a slogan only one consonant away from an expletive:
Tough as BUCC! Tough as BUCC! Tough as BUCC!
“Truly a chilling scene.” Jeremy Gordon’s voice brings us back to the two-shot, and Sloane promises she’s staying right here until she has more answers. Jeremy tells us where we can follow along with the case on Sloane’s Thirteen’s on the Scene! blog. Then they play out to a commercial with a shot of the chanting student body. This time we seem even more rabid looking than we did before. It’s the same footage, but now Sloane Keating and Jeremy Gordon have decided that this is a chilling scene.
Because of their pronouncement, this video now shows you more than you thought you saw when you watched it the first time.
Two people with perfect skin and straight, white teeth have just explained that there’s more here than a simple pep rally. Their eyes seem to be staring through the screen directly at me. Accusing me. Blaming me. Lumping me in with all of the other kids in that gym. According to them, we aren’t individual students. We aren’t people with our own thoughts and opinions.
We’re a mob and we are circling the wagons to protect our own.
Dad clicks pause just before the broadcast cuts to a commercial and wordlessly walks to the kitchen to get another beer. Mom shakes her head and follows him. I hear her pulling food out of the fridge and putting a pan on the stove. I stare at the frozen screen, and just when I realize what I’m looking at, Will sees it, too.
“No way!” he crows. “I’m on TV!”
Mom and Dad both come back to the living room. Coach’s face is a blur in the foreground, but there in the center of the screen is Will, his arm raised next to Ben’s, chanting along, black tube socks pulled up to his knees over his jeans. Will races out of the room. “I have to text Tyler! Don’t delete this, Dad.”
I wait for Dad to say something, but he only grunts and hits play, filling the living room with another few seconds of the chant. Mom sighs and goes back to the kitchen. I keep waiting for someone to say something. When no one does, I know what I have to do after dinner, because this video doesn’t give you the whole story. It doesn’t even try to.
There’s more to what’s happening in this footage than two news anchors can discuss in a ninety-second live report. It doesn’t show you that some of the students standing in those bleachers would like to know what really happened Saturday night. It can’t explain that some of us used to call Stacey Stallard a friend. It can’t assure you that not everyone has decided who’s guilty or picked a side or even understands where the battle lines are drawn. It can’t show you that a girl was missing from the drill team on the court, or that I want to know what she has to say.
And in that sense, this video doesn’t show you anything at all.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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nineteen
AFTER DINNER, I tell Mom I need some new lipstick for the Spring Fling tomorrow night, which is true. I also need a bracelet. I know that Buccs Buy Local! and all that, but at eight thirty on a weeknight, there’s not much open in this town, and I won’t have time after school tomorrow. Besides, the Walmart Supercenter has decent makeup, and sometimes their jewelry isn’t bad. You just have to know where to look. Plus, I’m on a budget.
Mom asks if I want her to come with me, but I tell her no. I have one more stop to make after I shop.
The turnoff for the Coral Creek Mobile Village is just a quarter mile past the Walmart. I’ve only been here a few times.