Page 44 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
There was no avoiding featuring Josh. His attitude and arrogance were a good balance to the other personalities, from a storytelling perspective. He was in the running for valedictorian and was sure to be named a Legacy for that alone. That and the heaping of nepotism. In all his interview footage he talked about expectations and the importance of the program—sounding a lot like his dad.
Then there was Reid.
Clearly the main character. I had spent countless hours ensuring the footage was balanced and the story was equally proportioned among them. But there was no denying that Reid shone brightest. His shyness was endearing on-screen, his dedication to his sport and team, inspiring. He came across as compelling and charming. Self-deprecating and relatable.
The perfect hero.
Like after a particularly brutal meet, where even he struggled due to the rainy conditions, I captured him as he went up to every single runner on the team, offering them water and an encouraging word.
There was something special, too, about the way his thoughtful silences translated to the viewer, reaching somewhere deep.
I was hesitant to include the scenes of the toll it took on his body and time. The few complaints he ever made about the pressure he felt. The grueling hours. Making his dad proud and the entirety of Woodhurst happy.
With Josh’s jealous attention on Reid in all the cross-country footage, it inadvertently made him the villain to Reid’s hero. I didn’t have my camera out when he tripped Reid at state, but I caught the aftermath. The blood on Reid’s arm, the bandage that was slick with sweat when he crossed the finish line, securing the championship. I also caught plenty of other times Josh would jeer or make jokes at Reid’s expense. I felt uneasy about including them, but at the same time, it was the truth. Josh madehimselflook that way.
The entire time we watched it, I tried to see it through Reid’s eyes.
But I was most disarmed by him seeing himself throughmyeyes. How close I would catch him in frame. The beads of sweat that dripped from his hair, the grimaces of pain when he pushed too hard, and themoments of total solitude I had invaded through my lens, even as I tried to capture them as unobtrusively as possible.
Someone watching might think I had feelings for him. Deep feelings.
God, did I?
When the doc ended, my stomach was in knots. It was honest. Raw. Exposing.
Reid sat up slowly, and my mouth went dry waiting for him to say something.
“Wow,” he breathed.
I closed the laptop. “I know it’s melodramatic. That’s why I needed someone to watch it—”
His brow furrowed. “What? No. It’s— Holy shit, it’s amazing, Clara. You’re so talented.”
“You liked it?”
He nodded, and my stomach fluttered as he grabbed my hands. “Loved it. The way you captured everyone? I had no idea that when you were filming, you were focusing on all those different things.”
He must’ve meant the way I zoomed in on fidgeting hands and lip biting and other body language that conveyed what words didn’t. Or on what was happening in the background while someone was talking and how it either emphasized or contradicted their point. “It’s…honest. Thank you.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “For what?”
“For showing me. For tonight… I feel like I know you better.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I barreled on as my thoughts spiraled. “It doesn’t seem incomplete to you? I dunno, there’s something about it that doesn’t feel ready or something.”
But Reid shook his head. “It’s perfect. You’re a beast, Suarez,” he said, nudging me with his shoulder.
I wanted to believe him.
“You’re not so bad yourself, RiRi,” I said, trying to force my discomfort away with a joke.
His face went deathly serious. “How many times do I have to tell you that isnotthe nickname?”
“Who’s to say?”
He chuckled. But the mirth didn’t last long the further into my own head I retreated.
He noticed. He always did.
