Chapter Thirty-Three. Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
REID
NOW
THE LEGACY BANQUET
@haikuforyou
There are secrets here
In the infinite abyss
Between words and breath
CLARA IS SILENT THE entire drive, fully immersed in thoughts that don’t seem wise to disturb.
She slows to a stop just before we make it to the entrance of the Lodge and checks that the lapel mic she gave me is secured to the inside of my suit jacket.
It hits me that this is it. Our last night before goodbye.
I stare at her. The golden lights that line the walkway to the Lodge peek through the tall pines and create a soft glow across her face.
Her dress hugs her torso and flares out over her hips into a skirt that looks almost liquid.
I can hardly stand to look at her she’s so beautiful.
When she exhales in a whoosh, I realize she’s nervous.
I wait. The only sounds are the distant slam of car doors and the lazy swish of Crescent Lake lapping at the shore behind us.
Finally she says, “Are you sure about this?”
The corner of my mouth lifts as I try to focus on the tasks ahead instead of the rapid rate of my pulse.
“Absolutely. Chin up, Suarez.” I put a finger under her chin to raise her bowed head until our eyes meet. “We’re finally going to make this right.”
She nods.
As soon as we get inside, my dad walks up to us, accompanied by Principal West, Josh with a small Band-Aid across the cut on his nose, Mayor Harper, and Coach Andrews, the Olympic coach I met last spring.
Dad side-eyes Clara, but he has his congenial expression on.
They’re all dressed in suits of various shades of charcoal, and my dad isn’t wearing his baseball hat for once.
“This is quite an event,” Coach Andrews says. He’s a tall man, with a weather-beaten tan and dark stubble.
He gestures to the decorated lodge, which looks like Woodhurst High exploded over it with all the blue and white decor.
A balloon arch by the door, big bouquets of flowers in the center of the intricately decorated tables, and a photo booth with a massive flower wall and neon sign that displays Legacy atop it.
There’s a slideshow going on behind him with rotating photos of me and all the Legacy alumni throughout the years.
“Reid, it’s great to see you again,” Coach Andrews says, holding out his hand to shake.
Though my stomach is doing somersaults as I think about my injury, I give him my best guest of honor grin. “I appreciate you coming all the way here.”
“Wow, that’s a shiner.”
Principal West laughs. “Our boys tend to lock horns from time to time.” He slaps a hand on Josh’s back, making him wince. “We’ve got real competitors here in Woodhurst.”
I don’t think I hide my disgust well enough because Dad glowers at me. Straightening my spine, I enact the first part of the plan. Well, my plan, anyway. “I’d like to apologize to you about that,” I say to both Josh and Principal West.
Josh frowns, not believing me for a moment.
But I don’t care, I just need Principal West to bite. I go on, “I’m sorry for starting a fight—that’s not the kind of Legacy I am or want to be.”
Dad nods approvingly.
I keep going. “I never got to give my speech, but I’d still like to if at all possible. I’d like to make it right.”
I feel Clara’s eyes on me, her confusion, but I keep my gaze trained on a beaming Principal West.
“Thank you for that. You know we’d love nothing more than to hear from you this evening.”
As the conversation goes on, I try to keep my guest of honor mask on, but I’m distracted by the odd glances I’m getting from people as they walk past us.
While it might be to do with the state of my and Josh’s faces, and whatever rumors they heard about the fight, it seems more significant than that.
“Reid?” Clara nudges me with her elbow.
“Huh?”
Dad says, “He asked how your training is going for regionals?”
I blink. “Oh. Um, fine.”
Coach Andrews frowns a bit but nods through it. “Okay.”
I see a flash of red hair in the crowd. Perfect timing. I excuse myself and grab Clara’s hand. We walk as quickly as I dare over to where Nicole is laughing as if she hasn’t orchestrated the downfall of Clara’s life.
Or maybe that’s exactly why she’s laughing.
“Ready?” I ask Clara in a low voice.
She nods and straightens her shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re still mad about that,” she exclaims loudly, causing several people hovering around the photo booth to face us. Including Nicole.
“Whoever posted that video did me a favor,” I snap.
Even though it’s what we’d agreed to say, Clara flinches. I wonder if I laid it on too thick, but we’re in it now, so I storm off as best I can and hope that this has the effect I expect.
I walk to the refreshment table and grab a water cup for something to do with my hands. A moment later I hear the distinct clacks of high-heeled footsteps approaching me.
“Reid? Are you okay?” Nicole asks.
I twist my features trying to look upset, which isn’t too hard these days. “It was always a bad idea, me and Clara.”
Nicole sighs. “I could’ve told you that. But I hate being right about stuff like that.”
Her barely contained glee would suggest otherwise. I squeeze the cup tighter.
“Yeah, well, you’re a good friend,” I manage.
Nicole steps closer, her eyes flashing. God, I hope we’re not wrong about this.
“You’re not still mad about the video even though you beat the crap out of Josh this morning?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Nah. Any excuse to punch Josh.”
She laughs, too, and though I now despise this person, I shoot her the smile that always makes Clara blush. It has the same effect on Nicole. It feels wrong on every level, but I remind myself that this is for Clara.
“I was mad at first,” I admit, “but I get why someone would do it. Josh was awful to Amaya.”
“Exactly,” Nicole rushes to say.
“And she deserved to know the truth.” I square my shoulders and swallow down my own disgust when I say, “I did, too. About Clara. I should’ve listened.”
I hold Nicole’s eyes as long as I can stand, and she steps closer to me, drawing her hand down my arm. “When I saw them together at that party, I knew I had to do something to protect my friends.”
I try to sound impressed and shocked. “It was you?”
She looks around before nodding, a coy, smug smile on her lips. “I mean, I wasn’t the one straddling a guy with a girlfriend. I just caught it on camera.”
The plastic cup collapses in my grip, spilling water onto my jacket cuff.
I let out a long exhale, fully aware that there are dozens of people pressed around us trying to listen.
I do my best to keep the fury out of my voice.
“If you wanted her to break up with Josh, why didn’t you just show the video to Amaya? Why play it at the assembly?”
Nicole frowns, and I wonder if the question was too insistent. Too obvious. I force myself into my competitive mindset. The way I get before every race, no matter how unimportant. How much I want to win when I’m on that course. I step closer to her and nudge her with my elbow.
“I mean, I get it,” I say. “Anything for Legacy, right?”
She looks at me closely, a flash of camaraderie in her eyes before lowering her voice. “Josh saw the Legacy list before it went out, and Amaya told me that neither me nor Logan were on it. When Logan managed to snag the flash drive from Josh, I knew what I had to do.”
I almost laugh. Of course Josh was never as innocent as he was claiming. Satisfaction pours through me all over again knowing his entire face hurts right now. But the fact that they all played a part is truly nauseating.
My heart is hammering against my chest as she continues. “Logan said everyone else breaks the rules, why should we have to play by them? And he was right. All I did was show them the truth.”
I give her a tight smile. “Sounds familiar.”
I look over my shoulder and catch eyes with Clara through the crowd, camera pointed directly at us. The Bluetooth mic on my jacket poised to pick up everything we’re saying. Clara nods like she got it all, her face a furious pink.
Nicole follows my gaze, and she pales as she puts it together. “What is this?” She steps backward. “You set me up?”
Clara approaches, green eyes blazing. “I wasn’t the one who sabotaged a friend. I just caught it on camera.”
Red splotches instantly appear across Nicole’s neck. “Legacy Lore was right; betrayal really doesn’t come from your enemies.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Tears spring to her eyes, but if she’s trying to make me feel bad it isn’t working.
“What are you going to do with that?” Nicole barks at Clara.
“I’m not sure.” Clara lowers the camera to her side. “But I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to show it in front of the entire town. I’m not going to intentionally humiliate you and ruin your life. I’m not going to do what you did to me.”
Clara walks off, and when I turn to follow, Nicole calls after me, as if I owe her anything. I ignore her and walk closely behind Clara. I can feel her breaths shake as I press my chest to her back.
“I can’t believe they all knew,” she whispers through gritted teeth over her shoulder to me.
I give her waist a small, reassuring squeeze. At least we made it through the first part.
Our walk through the crowded room is cut short when my dad catches me by the arm, directing me to the table for dinner.
Kenji and Mitchell are seated beside me and our parents, and though they’re cracking jokes—and for the love of god wearing Hawaiian-print shirts—it still isn’t enough to get me to fully relax knowing what’s coming.
Clara sits at the table beside us with her mom and Mayor Harper, her hand protectively on her bag the entire time.
We’re only halfway through the meal when Delaney rushes over, carrying her phone.
Clara frowns, blinking rapidly while they have an urgent, whispered conversation.
Something about her expression has me leaning across the small space between our tables.
“What is it?”
Instead of answering, she grabs my arm and gets the attention of our friends to follow as she weaves me through the circular tables.
Delaney, Kenji, and Mitchell walk with us past the coffee bar and into a quiet break room off the bustling kitchen.
Since Clara works here, nobody stops her.
She closes the door behind us and rifles through her bag.
“What are we doing?” Mitchell asks.
“Connor,” Clara bursts out.
Kenji’s face screws up in confusion. “No, I’m Kenji.”
She cuts him a look and wordlessly pulls out her laptop. She turns the screen toward us and opens what looks like an editing program. After a moment hunting through a cascade of multicolored video files that make my head spin, she lands on the one she’s looking for.
Clara drags the progress bar to a point, then in a breathless voice says, “Here. Watch this.”
We do.
It’s the video clip of Kenji’s guest room from the party the other night when we accidentally walked in on Nicole and Logan making out. Them springing apart and Clara lowering the camera so it’s facing the floor. But we can still hear what they’re saying. She turns up the volume.
It’s a scramble of movement and Clara’s high-pitched promise to delete it. We exchange a glance now, and she flushes since she clearly didn’t. Then Logan’s voice filters in. “West mentioned you’re working on the new video. I’m doing sound for the banquet, so let me know if you need anything.”
Then comes the sound of his footsteps as he got close to Nicole and said something to her in a low voice before leaving. I was so distracted by seeing Clara, I hadn’t clocked any of this.
But it’s crystal clear on the audio: “I won’t tell Connor if you won’t.”
She slaps the space bar to stop playback.
The silence hangs until Mitchell’s words come out slow like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “While I get you’re trying to help, I’m already over him, Clara.”
“That’s not—” Clara’s sigh is heavy as she closes her eyes and gestures to Delaney. “Tell them the other thing.”
“I’ve been messaging with a few of Reid’s teammates,” she says.
My pulse starts to pound at her tone, making my injuries throb.
“I just heard back from Connor, the same guy who kept giving us shots that night.”
We both shudder at the memory and she continues.
“Well, I guess he’s also Nicole’s ex or boyfriend, I dunno—they hook up at meets or something. Anyway, he’s been following Legacy Lore from the beginning, and he told me he’s been texting with the person running it.”
“And I saw Logan’s phone earlier,” Clara says. “He was texting someone named Connor.”
Oh, shit.
I have to sit down. But Mitchell looks more confused than ever. “So they’re dating?”
Clara gives him a long look. “God, Mitchell, I have no idea! Focus. Logan’s texting with someone who was there when Delaney visited Reid. And Logan and Nicole are—whatever they are. He was on the cast text thread with Amaya.”
Mitchell’s eyes widen as he finally catches on. “And he worked with Anderson Beck at the tennis club.”
Nicole’s words slam into focus—
Logan said everyone else breaks the rules, why should we have to play by them?
Our eyes lock and Clara nods. “What if Logan is Legacy Lore?”