Page 129 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
I straighten. “I’ve been icing it and—”
Dad shakes his head vigorously. “No.” He presses a splayed palm against his own chest. “Inpain.”
I go still. Silent. The muscle in my jaw is taut against the swell of emotion clogging my throat. Clara squeezes my hand, her touch strong and reassuring.
After a long stretch of silence, I finally manage a quiet “Yeah.”
Dad stands and comes around the table. He pulls me up and practically swallows me in a hug. The kind I’ve needed from him for years. I bury my head into his shoulder, and I realize I’m crying. By the way his breath comes out uneven, I know he is, too.
We stand in a long embrace, and when we pull apart, both Clara and Julianne swipe their eyes, too.
“I hate that you haven’t let me be here for you,” Dad says.
I shove my hands in my pockets and shuffle awkwardly. “It’s because you always—” I stop.
Dad frowns and urges me to keep going.
“You always try to fix everythingforme. You had this plan that just doesn’t make sense to me anymore. And I think I wanted—needed—to figure this out for myself this time.”
We settle back into our chairs and Dad studies me closely.
“You do have a habit of that,” Julianne says, nudging him.
I shoot her a grateful look when Dad nods. “Fair enough. So… what have you come up with? Tutors? Trainers? Some time off?”
Hope leaps through me. “Something like that.” I glance at Clara just before shocking the table silent when I say, “I don’t want to go back to Stanford.”
Dad looks like he might pass out. “Wait— Hold on—”
But I cut him off. “Idowant to finish college. I want to run again. But it isn’t a good place for me. I never see my coach, the guys on the team are toxic as fuck.” My mind is still reeling with the fact that my own teammate revealed all that stuff about me online. “I’m failing because I’m so tired. I can’t focus and I need…” I trail off and look at Clara, gathering my strength. “I needhelp. I haven’t felt like myself for a long time, but I didn’t even realize it until I came home.”
I wait in silence for my dad to say something. He’s raking his hand back and forth across his forehead, the lines of his weathered skin smoothing and pulling. “I know college is a tough transition…” He trails off and sighs. “This is a big decision.”
Clara’s entire doc showed me what I needed to know in no uncertain terms. Not only did she capture what it takes to become a Legacy, but she showed what being a Legacytook. From me and all of us. As deftand nuanced as it was, it was still a stark awakening. Reminding me who I was before all this. The whole of me. I summon the strength to say it even as my voice shakes. “It’s not the transition. I’m not okay, Dad.”
Silence descends over the table while my dad’s eyes fill. I hate it, putting this on him, but keeping the stress and pain from him is crushing me. I need him to see that if I have to do this alone any longer, I’ll fall completely apart.
“I hear you, kiddo.” Dad drags a hand across his mouth. “I knew it as soon as I saw Clara’s video.” He fixes his gaze on her, gratitude and newfound respect in his eyes. “Thank you.”
She seems too overwhelmed to do anything but nod. I don’t want to push the subject now, so I tell Dad we’ll really talk it through tomorrow before I have to go back.
Once they leave, I feel as though a boulder has been lifted from my chest. I grab a hold of Clara’s hand again.
“Come with me.” My voice is gruff.
She frowns as I lead her away from the Lodge, away from the lights and anyone else still around. The air is fragrant with the heavy scent of the surrounding pines. We get to the enclosed solarium that overlooks the lake. It’s an extra guest area beside the Lodge with plush couches and large windows. Most important, it’s private.
“I’m really proud of you for talking to your dad,” she says as I close the door behind us. “I’m so sorry if I ruined your chances with that coach, or if I forced your hand about school in some way. I was just trying to help—”
I cut her off as I crush my mouth to hers. Her surprised whimper is enough to set me on fire. She has nothing to be sorry for. I know that video was her love letter to her friends, to Woodhurst.
To me.
I break away to look at her. Cup her jaw with my hand and just take her in. Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Holding her in this moment, knowing in my marrow that she is going to change the fucking world.
She pulls back and raises an eyebrow. “Big fan of documentaries, huh?”
“Yours, yes. I’m so proud of you.”
