Page 133 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
Though instead of being embarrassed or bothered, Reid shrugs, smug as hell. Crunching footsteps have us all turn to find Delaney bounding over to us, her expression thrilled with what has to be fresh gossip.
“Having a party without me?” she asks.
“It’s never a party without you, DL,” Kenji says.
She grins beatifically. “That’s true. Okay, two things. One, Amaya and Nicole actually used their bullying powers for good and got Logan to delete Legacy Lore. It’sgone.”
All of our eyes widen. “No.”
She nods, jumping up and down unable to contain herself and shows us on her phone to prove it.
“Wow…” I say, looking at the empty profile.
Itworked.
“Oh my god, are we all basically spies?” Mitchell asks.
Kenji puts a hand over his mouth. “I think we are. Should we plan a heist?” Mitchell laughs, but it falters when Kenji threads their fingers together. He stares at this public declaration and a slow-rising smile takes over his whole face.
“What was the second thing?” Reid asks Delaney, before they completely divert us.
She brightens. “Oh, right! One of the donors left this for Clara.” She reaches into the pocket of her skirt and hands me a business card.
“She said to give you this and to have you message her. She’s on the board for the California Young Filmmakers’ Contest,” Delaney says, bouncing on her toes.
I stare at the small, thick card in my hand. It shakes a little. Overhead the sky is alight with stars, and inhaling the fragrant mountain air brings everything into focus.
Despite having spent so many years desperate to get out of Woodhurst, I hadn’t quite considered what it would be like to actually leave the mountain. My family. Everything I’ve known.
“You can always come back,” Reid says, reading my mind. Knowing I’ve jumped ahead about a thousand steps already.
I nod.
“But”—his voice turns as gentle and serious as he is—“you have other lives to live first.”
I look up at him, and the crushing sadness that’s been weighing me down all year melts away.
The five of us fall into step toward the parking lot. Reid is beaming the entire slow walk, his arm wrapped around my shoulders in a way that radiates pride. His fingertips skimming the part of my ribs with his poem.
If everything had gone to my perfect plan last year, none of this would have happened. I couldn’t have madethisdocumentary. I couldn’t have helped my friends see just how broken the program has become. I would have lived in constant fear of maintaining a path that closed off the possibility of other ones.
It’s like my mom said, there is no one right way.
It always bothered me that people in my family and around towntalk about Mom’s brilliance and potential like it’s a thing of the past. Like her life ended when she was nineteen just because it took an unexpected turn. Because it didn’t.
And I realize now that mine hasn’t, either. I’d rather do something worth talking about, than be the one doing the talking.
Even if my doc doesn’t do much for Woodhurst or the Legacy Program—even if it doesn’t get me into a film festival or CAFA—it was absolutely worth it.
Because it brought each of us back to ourselves.
It brought Reid back to me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINEREIDSPRING
@haikuforyou
Foundations still hold
