Page 117 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
@haikuforyou
There are secrets here
In the infinite abyss
Between words and breath
CLARA IS SILENT THEentire 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 displaysLegacyatop 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?”
