Page 16 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
It’s been over a week, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the way Reid dropped into the group chat,hourslater, with a Taylor Swift lyric. It was his way of telling us that (1)he’sthe guest of honor for Legacy Weekend, (2) he’s officially coming back, and (3)he listens to Taylor Swift now.
I guess college really does change people.
Like with Delaney, who hasn’t responded to any of my direct texts in a month. She hasn’t even responded to me about hanging out this weekend, when on the group chat she’s using a dizzying amount of exclamation points about coming home and seeing everyone. I don’t know if it’s all in my head, but after the way she started drifting after the assembly last year, I can’t help but take it personally.
I pull my phone out like I have every three minutes for the past week to see if the buzzing is from Reid again. It’s not. It’s Kenji reminding usof his annual Legacy party tonight along with a follow-up text,ALUMNI ONLY (except Mitchell obvs). The vultures are circling already.
He then sends a link to an account that I don’t recognize. When I open it up, I notice the five Legacies are tagged in it—Reid, Delaney, Amaya, Josh, and Nicole—as well as several other students from our graduating class.
And me.
@LEGACY_LORE: Legacies are returning to Woodhurst this weekend for their final victory lap before passing the crown to the next crop of seniors. But were you at that disastrous assembly last year? There’s a lot more to this class of illustrious Legacies than meets the eye. It’s time you learned the truth about the so-called Woodhurst elite. Therealstory… More soon
As I click through the profile, an unease snakes through me. Why is it anonymous? And what do they mean by the “real story”?
Or am I just on edge because that “disastrous assembly” ruined my life?
“Clara, we’re about to open!” my manager calls out to where I’m perched on a bench overlooking the water behind the Lodge. It’s the restaurant and equipment rental site that sits at the base of the mountain. In winter, it’s a busy, cozy spot with roaring fires in the stone hearths and hot chocolate with so much whipped cream you could ski on it. But at this time of year, the weather hovering between late summer and fall, it’s quiet and serene with the best view of the sunset over Crescent Lake.
Before I tuck my phone away for good, I quickly switch over to my favorite poetry account and refresh the page, hoping they’ve updated with a new post. They haven’t.
Mitchell’s text comes through the group chat just as I’m tying my apron.Is that account real? ALSO I feel like we should all wear matching shirts tonight. Thoughts?
I laugh away my disquiet over the account, a part of me wishing I could go tonight.
But even though I want to see Kenji and finally talk to Delaney, I shouldn’t.
That post, innocuous as it might be, is a reminder of all the drama I’ve fought to forget as the disgraced, disqualified Legacy.
All the mistakes I have no hope of mending.
It would be different if Reid were going to be there. If I had the chance to see him and know, once and for all, whether I handled things between us the right way or mishandled them as wildly as I’ve feared every day since.
But Reid said he won’t be here until tomorrow. Which means he doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to. I can’t blame him for that.
Staying away from everyone is the best option.
Not looking up from my notepad, I ask the new table, “What can I get you?”
“Ah, just the person I was looking for.”
The familiar voice causes me to freeze. It’s the person I loathe most: Principal West. A stout white man with a salt-and-pepper beard and giant teeth. I’ve seen him around town plenty of times since graduation, but I’ve done my best to dodge him.
His teeth are blinding as he grins. “Nice to see you, Clara!”
Doubtful.
I give him a small, half-hearted wave and take his order as quickly as possible, barely looking at him.
But before I can escape, he says, “Actually, do you have a moment? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
That’s… unexpected, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
“Okay?” I keep my tone civil, but just barely.
He clears his throat. “As I understand it, you are still in possession of Woodhurst equipment.”
My face instantly flames. Since when does the principal notice stuff like that? But before I can respond he holds a hand up.
