Chapter Thirteen. Clara
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CLARA
NOW
REID CROSSES THE FINISH line to a cacophony of applause. Only I seem to know he’s going to fall a second before he crashes to the ground.
The gasps from the crowd are drowned by the roaring in my ears. I sprint toward him, but I can’t get through the bodies that have surrounded him.
“Is he okay?”
“Oh my god, did he faint?”
His voice, ragged and winded, breaks through. “I’m fine.”
“Reid? Excuse me!” It’s Coach Rousseau, and he’s shoving his sweaty arms through the crowd now that he’s finished the race, too.
I can’t see anything over their shoulders, but I can hear Reid. I lift my camera high, hoping to capture the scene to check if he’s really okay.
“Dad, I’m fine. I tripped.”
After a moment, Coach pulls him to standing and Reid waves to the crowd, who applaud in response. His palm and elbow are scraped from the fall. He pushes his noninjured hand through his hair as he walks slowly—really slowly—toward his dad, who’s holding out a water bottle for him.
Reid takes a long pull, then hunches over again. He scolded me whenever I did that, telling me that position restricts breathing. He knows better. I zoom in more to catch his hand squeezing his left knee.
He’s not winded. He’s hurt.
He’s gripping his knee so hard his entire hand is bright white. His dad is right by his side, saying something into his ear. Reid shakes his head and straightens to standing. I get closer and watch his lips move through the viewfinder.
I swear I’m fine, Reid mouths. It’s just sore.
Whatever is going on, I think it might be serious. And Reid is pretending it isn’t. What did that Legacy Lore post about him say?
“But given his mysterious absence from the course this season…”
It hits me then, the grimaces and the stiff way he sat down on the ground last night. He didn’t injure it by falling, he fell because he’s injured.
And he ran anyway.
Because he doesn’t want anyone to know. I wanted to believe that Legacy Lore was right to expose the truth of this program. But at the cost of the people in it? If Reid is actually injured, that means whoever it is has real intel. Is airing real secrets.
Furious heat shoots through me.
I’ve been through enough of that. I can’t let the same thing happen to him.
As soon as the crowd breaks up, Reid’s face falls and he squeezes his eyes shut as if mentally preparing himself before he starts walking.
He’s always been competitive. Too competitive. Even with himself. At the hot springs last year, he opened up to me about the mental tricks he plays on himself to stay motivated. I get that he couldn’t get where he is without that fire, but I always thought that he pushed himself too hard.
I pause. The hot springs. He told me once nothing ever helped his thrashed body like the hot springs did. He needs to get there. Today.
Josh steps right into my frame then, breaking my concentration and ruining my shot. I lower my camera, and he’s staring at me, a smirk on his face. He’s beet red and smells like alcohol is leaching out of his pores.
“You catch me crossing the finish line?” he asks, gesturing to my camera.
“Yeah, I got everyone,” I say, eager to rush over to see if Reid’s okay.
“Making sure you’re not just focusing on Golden Boy over there. You saw Delaney’s posts, right? He shouldn’t even be the guest of honor.”
I frown. “What do you mean ‘Delaney’s’?”
Josh shrugs. “It’s obvious she’s the one making them. She always knows everything about everyone.”
I open my mouth to defend her but pause as my thoughts collide.
She’s been weirdly distant for a while now, avoiding me every time I try to talk to her, like something is going on or she’s carrying a secret. She does love to gossip …
I shake my head quickly.
No. There’s no way. I could see it if the posts were only about Josh, but she would never compromise her scholarship to start rumors about Reid. Not unless she had a reason I don’t know about. Josh is trying to get in my head.
Probably because Reid’s right and he’s the one behind the posts. After the way he treated Reid last year, it’s not hard to imagine that Josh would make an account like Legacy Lore just to take Reid down.
When I don’t respond, he goes on. “I’m just saying, if my dad wants anyone featured, it’s me—”
“I said I got everyone,” I snap.
“Damn, chill.” He pulls up his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
Principal West hasn’t said one word about making sure I feature Josh. He’s cared only about Reid.
“Joshua!” Principal West barks.
I inch closer and catch a snippet of their conversation on camera.
“I was ahead of him the entire first half of the race,” Josh complains.
“But you didn’t finish ahead, did you? You never do,” West shoots out, his stern expression morphing into a smile as he greets someone else and walks off toward Reid at the finish line.
I manage to capture the hurt in Josh’s eyes before he shuts it away when the older alumni surround him and the other runners. They make jokes and slap Josh’s back, and though he’s laughing, I don’t miss the glare he shoots at Reid and his dad.
I cross the square and get close enough to hear what West says. “Nothing to worry about, I take it?”
Reid shakes his head. “Of course not.”
“Excellent. Let’s walk around—I have several new donors I’d like to introduce you to.”
There’s a spark of panic in Reid’s eye, and I put my camera away and square my shoulders.
I got interviews with older alumni and a solid one with Nicole earlier.
I can step away for now. Though I should give him the distance he clearly wants, I know him.
I still know him. Between running with an injury and his insomnia coming back, it’s clear he’s not taking care of himself the way he needs to.
“Reid!”
They both turn to look at me. Reid’s eyes are guarded.
“We’re still going to the hot springs, right?” I give Principal West a wide smile. “Team tradition that I’d love to get on camera for the video.”
I shoot Reid a significant look, and he nods quickly.
“Uh, yeah.”
West smiles. “Ah, well, I suppose there will be time to meet everyone at the Shakespeare event tonight. You’re making headway on the project, then, Clara?”
I nod. “Oh, yes. Lots of really interesting footage.”
“Excellent! All right, well, see you tonight.”
With West still watching us, I start walking toward my car, giving Reid no choice but to follow me. I keep my pace purposely slow for him.
“Thanks for the out, but you don’t actually have to take me to the hot springs—”
“Yes, I do.”
Even if I don’t quite understand why.
But we have to stop by my house first to grab a swimsuit. It’s on the way on this side of the mountain. We pull into my driveway, and there are a few cars parked in it that weren’t there this morning.
“The Suarezes have descended,” Reid observes.
I laugh, but it fizzles out awkwardly when our eyes catch.
“You should probably stay here,” I say.
He nods.
We both know the grilling he’d get from my Uncle Marco alone would take the entire day. Besides, he’s holding on to his knee for dear life.
I open the front door, and our small house is bursting with chatter and sizzling pans and my cousins running back and forth. Aunt Lisette is playing the piano, her tattooed arms moving rapidly, while her labradoodle, Moxie, lies at her feet.
It’s pure, precious chaos, and I relax instantly. Especially when I hear Mom laugh.
Maybe the Legacy Weekend descent I’ve been anticipating isn’t inevitable. If they’re here and she’s laughing, we’ve avoided the worst of it this time. At least I hope so.
“Clara! Do you have a dress for the banquet tomorrow?” Aunt Xi calls to me.
I’m in the kitchen hunting for a Ziploc bag to fill with ice. I find one in the cabinet and call back, “I have no idea!”
“Well, I finally cleaned out my closets this week and brought a giant box of clothes for you,” she says. “They’re in your room.”
That’s promising. Aunt Xi has the best style. And it’s a relief, because even if I didn’t have a dress for the banquet, we can’t afford to go shopping right now.
I start to fill the bag with ice from the dispenser when my ten-year-old cousin, Sonia, grabs me by the arm to tell me I got home just in time because they’re putting on an original play soon. I laugh and tell her I have other plans.
Sonia pops her hip impatiently, looking entirely too much like my Aunt Lisette. “With who? Delaney is almost done with Reina’s makeup!”
Ice cubes crash across the linoleum as I accidentally let the bag overflow. “Delaney’s here?”
Even through all the noise, all I hear then is Delaney’s high-pitched “Hi!” when she calls from the hallway bathroom.
She must’ve come straight from the Fun Run. That’s what she would’ve done a year ago—hell, a month ago—but we haven’t spoken one-on-one in so long; she’s just going to pretend her showing up at my house is totally normal?
I tuck the ice pack in my bag and head to the bathroom. Delaney is still in her running clothes, her hair frizzing a bit around the hairline. She’s applying a shocking amount of blush to the cheeks of my eight-year-old cousin, Reina.
I grab my bathing suit and a towel from the rack behind the door and ball it up in my hands while I greet her. “What are you doing here?”
“Reina’s makeup, obviously,” Delaney says over Reina’s shiny dark hair.
“I’m a fairy!” Reina announces.
“That’s awesome,” I say. “Um, why don’t you go show everyone?”
She springs off the closed toilet where she was perched and runs out to the living room. I close the bathroom door, and Delaney leans against the sink, gripping the lip of it behind her.
I exhale, my heart pounding hard. “What is this?” I ask.
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t sent me one text in weeks, you barely talked to me last night or at the Fun Run, and now you just show up at my house?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. The new piercing winks in the light and aggravates me even more. “I know. I’m sorry. I know we need to talk … How’s it going with Reid?” she asks, searching my face.
I frown. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s harder than I thought. He’s actually outside—we’re going to the hot springs.”
Her eyebrows float up. “Oh.”
“Do you want to come?”
She shakes her head immediately, and I’m sure there’s something I’m missing here.
“What happened? Are you just busy?” I ask. “Did I do something?”
She swallows hard, her eyes going glassy. “No.”
“Delaney—”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had plans. I should go.”
She reaches for the knob behind me and pulls at the door until I step out of the way.
“Are you serious?” I call after her into the noise of the household.
She doesn’t respond, instead grabbing her jacket from the hall table and rushing outside.
I follow her where the outdoor chill feels better against the sting of her distance.
“Delaney, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, you’re busy, and I have to get to the Romeo and Juliet rehearsal, anyway. They need extras, and all the performing arts alumni got roped in. Let’s just talk later?”
“But—”
She turns. “Go easy on him. He’s had a rough start to the year.”
I fold my arms, my stomach going tight. How does she know that?
She doesn’t even wait for me to respond before sliding into her car, which was hidden by my uncle’s truck. I watch her back up and drive off, in disbelief. I don’t understand her. I don’t understand any of this.
What have I done to make her act so weird and avoid me like this? Was it my doc from last year?
I stayed up half the night watching old footage to prepare my interview questions.
Delaney was central in all of it, and it reminded me how much she struggled last year.
Is that what’s going on? Is she upset that I included her in it?
She never said anything, but maybe she’s been mad at me since the assembly.
When I get back in my car and toss my bathing suit into the back seat, Reid shoves his phone in his pocket. “What was Delaney doing here?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. She’s being so weird, I’m kinda worried about her.”
“Why? What did she say?” he asks.
My eyebrows come together at his tone. “She said you’ve had a rough start to the year.”
I watch Reid examine the scrapes on his arms, his mouth set like it does when he’s being backed into a corner. He exhales and grips his legs, bracing.
“Oh, here.” I reach into my bag and hand him the makeshift ice pack. “Looks like you need it.”
He blinks down at the bag crinkling softly in his hands.
I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but something new and heavy crowds the air between us. Did I overstep with the ice?
“Thanks,” he says quietly.
I want to ask him what’s going on. Why he seems so stressed—why he isn’t sleeping. But he can barely look me in the eye. I remind myself it’s none of my business and accept that at least I can do this for him. I’ll have my chance to ask him questions during his interview.
“Hot springs?” I ask, trying to pull him out of his head. Trying to hold on to this fragile tether between us.
He nods. “Hot springs.”