Read All The Glory for Free Online Page A

just garbage from movies that I’d swallowed my whole life and never questioned. Just like my freedom. Just like my ability to walk out of this place and never come back.
    I never appreciated that stuff before now, and I wasn’t even sure I could fully grasp how big it was. After all, I wasn’t the person being led away in chains. The only thing clinking on me was my ridiculous key-chain collection. It felt really silly and immature for the first time since I started building it eight months ago.
    I walked out with Jason’s dad and didn’t stop until I was at my car. Bobby was sitting on the hood waiting for me.
    A few reporters followed us, but thankfully not so closely that Mr. Bradley couldn’t say a few things in private.
    “I really appreciate you coming, and even though he was kind of pigheaded about it, I know Jason does too. So, thank you. Thanks a lot.” He got a little choked up at the end, so I kind of just went with my gut and threw my arms around him awkwardly. My bag banged against our sides with the momentum of my movements.
    “I’m happy to. I can come back if you want. I’d like to.”
    “That would be great,” he said over my shoulder. His grip around my back was like iron. I felt for second that I was his anchor before he let me go.
    “Want my number?” I asked, wondering if I was overstepping my bounds.
    He pulled his cell out of his pocket and handed it to me. “That’d be great.”
    I quickly entered the digits and then called myself, letting it ring a few times before I hit the red button. Now I could get in touch with him too if necessary. “Call me if you need anything,” I said, handing it back.
    “Will do. He has his arraignment Monday.”
    “What time?” I wasn’t sure what an arraignment was, but I’d for sure be looking it up online when I got home.
    “In the morning. Not sure what time.”
    I put my hand on his arm when his eyes suddenly got all watery.
    “Don’t worry, Mr. Bradley. Everything is going to work out.” I prayed I wasn’t lying when I said that.
    “Let’s hope so,” he said, and then he walked away.

Chapter Eight

    BOBBY AND I TALKED ABOUT The Incident, as we came to call it between us, all weekend. The news channels were loaded with conjecture, but so far no one knew the hows or the whys.
    I knew Jason had done it; he’d said as much in that room with me and his father. But I wanted to know why. I felt like I needed to know, like I’d never be able to rest until I did. There had to be a reason. Not just a reason, but a good reason why he’d snapped.
    Bobby and I reminisced about some of our years with Jason. We both had the same image in our minds; he was a privileged kid with everything going for him, charm enough for three guys, and a body and face that made every girl and gay want to be on his arm.
    But he wasn’t always a douchebag. He’d stuck up for Bobby once, when we were all pretty young. Bobby reminded me and the memory came back like a movie in my head.
    Jason pushed a kid down on the playground for calling Bobby a fag-bag. Back then we weren’t very creative with our name-calling, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, and Jason knew that. He was to some degree the champion of the underdogs in our younger years, always coming to our rescue when kids got too rough — and that happened more often than I care to remember. I think Bobby and I must have had the words Easy Victim stamped on our backs or something. It was only when the whole world started showering Jason with accolades that he kind of stopped having time for the superhero act.
    Bobby and I decided after discussing it for the entire day Sunday and into the morning Monday on the way to school that Jason was still a champion, deep down inside. That meant he had a story to tell, and I for one wanted to hear what it was.
    Turns out, so did everyone else at school. Every single conversation I heard in the halls and in the classrooms was about him. Suddenly upcoming dances,