Chapter Twenty-Two. Clara
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CLARA
NOW
THOUGH WE’RE OUTSIDE? THE stage lights start to flicker indicating the show will begin soon. I tuck my camera away, frustrated. None of the alumni theater Legacies had a bad word to say about Amaya.
What if I’m totally off base about her running the account?
Since she’s onstage tonight, I’ll have to wait until after the show to talk to her.
I look around, trying to decide where to sit.
I had planned on avoiding Reid tonight. To keep away from him for both our sakes.
But in the car he reminded me all over again why it’s so hard to do that.
So hard to stay angry. The fact that he found that shirt because he knew it would make me laugh; offered to help me with the doc even after I blocked him.
The way he remembers everything about us.
I don’t know if I’m ready to move past what happened with him and Delaney—or if I even should. But with nowhere else to sit, I find myself drifting toward the blanket with him, Mitchell, and Kenji.
As I do, I notice several people are looking at Reid and the other Legacies with odd expressions. Talking about them. The Legacy Lore posts are clearly starting to seep into town. We need to figure out who it is before things get out of hand. Before something irreparably damaging comes out.
When I get to the blanket, Kenji has his arm around Mitchell. I try to give Mitchell an Oh my god look, but he’s watching Reid warily.
Reid is leaning back on his elbow, nonchalant and entirely too languid. A water bottle vertical against his lips. When he releases it, he coughs.
Kenji slams a hand across his shoulder blades, laughing. “Dude, slow down.”
I sink down next to Mitchell, who immediately grabs my arm. “Guess who Logan’s here with?”
My eyes fly wide as I follow his gaze. Nicole is leaning back against Logan’s legs, seemingly poised to watch the show like that. Are they actually together? It seemed like when Reid and I caught them kissing last night it was more of a spontaneous thing. But Mitchell doesn’t know about that.
“Kaywut’m I missing here?” Reid’s voice comes out loud. Too loud.
“Oh, sweet summer child,” Kenji says, patting his head, making Mitchell laugh a little.
I lean back and study him. “Was that even a sentence?”
“It was a question.”
I watch Kenji take another sip from the water bottle and put it together as I turn back to Reid. “Are you … drunk?”
He swats at nothing in the air. “Hardly. I’m buzzed at bezzt.”
I scoff. “‘Bezzt’ is definitely a word a sober person would say.”
He shrugs. It’s a slow movement that seems to take effort.
I don’t like this. It would be one thing if he was having fun, letting off a little steam.
Instead, it seems like the reverse is happening. His eyelids are heavy, his stare vacant. A despair I know too well, a misery that I learned to recognize as a child, lines every feature of his handsome face. Like the alcohol is forcing his mask to slip.
“Here.” I offer him an actual water bottle, and he takes a long swig.
The crowd around us starts applauding as the actors take to the stage.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “It’s starting.”
It’s not even ten minutes into the show before the sky shifts from a hazy twilight to a starlit black.
A few minutes more, and Reid lowers himself horizontally and sags against me.
I freeze, stunned as he props his head on my lap, wrapping his arm around my leg.
Just like he used to. Just like the photo I have of him.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, discomfited.
His eyes stay closed when he whisper-slurs, “So tired. Juss a lil nap.”
It’s a jolt, having him close like this. Achingly familiar but also confusing. I could maneuver him off me. He’s so out of it I’m not even sure he’d notice.
But as I feel the rise and fall of his rhythmic breathing against the tops of my thighs, I can’t bring myself to do it. Despite everything, he still feels comfortable enough with me to relent like this. To finally rest. That’s enough for me to stay as still as possible.
Which makes the next two hours a torturous practice in restraining myself from the incandescent urge to slide my fingers into his hair like I used to.
Especially with him looking criminally cute in that shirt.
But I focus on the show, digging my hands into the grass behind me, and somehow, improbably, resist.
When the final scene ends and the audience applauds around us, Reid doesn’t so much as stir.
After the curtain call, the crowd mills and Mitchell and Kenji get up to stretch.
Mitchell shoots me a look when he sees his brother sprawled across me now.
I guess it was so dark during the show that he didn’t notice.
Furious heat climbs my face, and I shake Reid’s shoulder harder. “Reid? Show’s over.”
His inhale is sharp, and he blinks several times against the dark. Up at me. The moment it registers, he springs back as if hit with a live wire.
“Whoa—” His voice is rough and sleepy. He drags a hand down his face. “How long was I out?”
“A little over two hours.”
“Jesus. Sorry for”—he gestures awkwardly to my lap—“I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay.” I stretch, arching my back and pointing my toes against all the tingling sensations as the blood finally rushes back to my limbs. “My legs are totally asleep, though.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
But I can’t respond because my breath catches. His hands have moved to my leg closest to him, massaging it the way he used to after long runs or whenever I’d get a cramp. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it, like he’s still half asleep, running on autopilot.
“Um, you don’t have to do that.”
He follows my gaze, and his hands freeze around my calf. But he doesn’t move them. Our eyes meet again, and we’re locked staring at each other when Josh appears out of nowhere and throws his arms out wide. His cheeks are red and his eyes glassy as he stares at Reid’s hands on my leg.
“Ohhhh, look at this!” he exclaims. There’s a sardonic edge to his words that only means trouble. “Wow, are congratulations in order?” His booming voice gets the attention of everyone hovering nearby, including Nicole and Logan. “Guess you guys got over that whole video thing?”
Reid slowly pulls his hands back and balls them into fists.
That whole video thing.
“What are you doing?” Nicole hisses at Josh.
Josh shrugs. “Reminiscing.” He shoots Reid a lazy grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Logan starts to laugh, but it fades when his gaze collides with Mitchell’s. But Josh keeps going. “God, that was all so … high school.”
Nicole tugs on his arm. “Josh, stop it—”
“I’m just saying! You get to college and none of that shit matters anymore, you know? Well, I guess Clara doesn’t know—”
But before he can finish his sentence, Reid launches to his feet.