6. chapter six
chapter six
take my breath away (it's literally a sunset)
“ W ill you just give it a rest?” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a laugh, disguising my slight irritation.
Cora pouts as she stomps her foot, the sound echoing through the hallways, before all four of us squeeze into the only elevator in our dorm building. “No, I won’t, Goldie. You came back after a day of classes in someone else’s t-shirt. And now you won’t tell us why?”
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, pushing my lips out as I did. “I just... saw it in a store on my way back here and just kept it on because I liked it so much.”
Her jade eyes turned into slits. “Really?” I nodded, as she knocked her hip to the side and crossed her arms. “You. Goldie Moore. Miss ‘I wear pastels and summer dresses all year round’, bought a black t-shirt on purpose?”
Only now did I realise my mistake, as I looked down at the summer dress I’d chosen to wear to tonight’s welcome event. I don’t know how many different pastel colours swished amongst the fabric that floated to the middle of my thighs, but I could tell you that black wasn’t one of them.
The colour just made me feel invisible, and I’d had enough of feeling invisible. But now I had to convince Cora that it was my favourite.
“Yes, now can we change the subject?” I looked around at my friends, each of their faces concealing a smile. “How was everyone’s first day?”
“Fine.” All three of my so-called friends said at once.
I deadpanned my face. “How am I supposed to put up with this for four years?”
Rory shrugged, that smile she was hiding now a sarcastic curve against her lips. “Easy, just tell us the truth, and we’ll be angels for the rest of college.”
“Okay, well, I didn’t agree to that,” Cora exclaimed from her corner of the elevator, but she was close enough to catch my almighty eye roll.
The middle finger kiss she blew at me was proof enough that she had no intention of being any kind of angel during these years. Rory knocked it away though, mumbling something under her breath that sounded like the French she used from time to time.
Cora flailed her hands back at Rory. “What did we say about the French mumbling? What did we agree?”
Shimmying herself, Rory stood taller, before clearing her throat. “Je marmonne en francais quand je veux. Tu n'as aucune idée de ce que je dis de toute facon, espèce de tarte."
Cora folded her arms, satisfied. “Yeah, well, that’s what I thought.”
Although, the smile on Rory’s face and the wink she gave me when Cora whipped out her phone to check her lashes made me think she hadn’t said what Cora thought she had.
For all I cared, Rory could speak in French every minute of the day.
It was endearing, and she always seemed to light up when she switched to it. And from the letters I’d seen while helping her unpack—letters from her mom, who she’d lost when she was only thirteen—I had a feeling I knew why speaking that language made her shine just a little bit brighter.
“Goldie,” Daisy sighed, folding her arms over her sage-green tea dress, pulling me back to reality and reminding me that the interrogation wasn’t over. “I know I’ve known you for, what… a day? But I can already read you like a book. You’re hiding something.”
If Daisy weren’t so sweet, then I would have given her the same gesture Cora gave me. But I just couldn’t. It would be like flipping off a kitten.
I angled my head toward her, then stared at my other friends, the elevator doors pinging open as I spoke. “Guys, I promise you, nothing happened. I liked the T-shirt, so I bought it. End of story.”
Daisy and Rory gave me sympathetic smiles as they walked through the revolving doors and into the student footfall of West 4th Street. Cora, on the other hand, still had her eyes narrowed at me, like she’d be able to crack me the longer she did. But I knew the one thing that would stop her pestering.
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll send every single person at this event the link to that video of you dancing on bar tables when you were seventeen.”
Her sarcastic smile didn’t give me any sort of hope that my threat worked. “You know what? Please do. I’ve realised that it actually isn’t that bad anymore. I was in London when someone took that video, and the drinking age over there is eighteen. So why everyone lost their shit over it is beyond me.”
Rory, who was walking ahead of us with Daisy, threw her chin over her shoulder. “Um, maybe because you were in a bar when you were still underage.”
Cora shrugged beside me. “That’s just our culture.” She put her attention back on me. “Besides, I’m done with letting these nasty little creatures on the internet decide how I should feel about myself. I don’t even want to remember that it happened. I just want to leave that in the past.”
I didn’t know Cora when that video was circling the internet, but I did see it. Not knowing who she was, I simply scrolled past it, confused by the wave of panic that seemed to crash over every social platform it appeared on. But once I got to know her, she explained how that was the video that prompted her management to suggest that she needed security in the first place. Why, up until before Jamie went on paternity leave, he’d hover around her, around us, hoping that it would scare away the paps.
And the trolls, who seemed to be just as threatening in person as they were online.
I pulled my smile tight as we reached a crosswalk, guilt seeming to be the thing that pulled it for me. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Cora gave me a nod, but a second later, she was flicking my nose. “It’s okay.”
Once we reached the opposite sidewalk, Daisy spun around to face us, her steps walking her backwards as she asked, “So, we’re ignoring that Goldie came back wearing a shirt that definitely wasn’t new?”
I saw Rory and Cora eye each other before everyone’s attention fell on to me. I just smiled, before quickening my steps. “I hate you all.”
Somehow, as we walked further, Cora, Rory and Daisy took the lead, like they were shielding me from the Monday evening foot traffic. I wasn’t sure why I was so adamant about keeping what had happened this morning a secret. Telling them I’d met a cute boy who’d given me his shirt is the kind of thing that college girls should be talking about.
I think I’d always had a habit of keeping things to myself, regardless of what they were. Growing up with parents who spoke for you, and decided your career before you knew what was out there, it was no surprise that I’d treat my mind like a locked diary, never giving anyone the key and praying they never found a way to see inside of it.
Even with my sister, there were still things that I didn’t want to share.
Part of me felt in control that way. It made me feel like there were at least some parts of my life that I could have for myself, where no one could tarnish my thoughts with their opinions when the only one that mattered was my own.
If the traffic was quieter and the wind wasn’t so loud, I’d hear my heart cracking for the girl who lived up there, in the towers of my mind. And I only hoped that she got the courage to climb down the stone steps of the tower she locked herself in, realising that the girls waiting for her when she reached the bottom would do nothing but listen when she had something to say.
And I knew she would.
There was also the other reason why I was having a hard time relaying what had really happened this morning.
I’d spent all day trying to stop thinking about whoever that guy was, but somehow, my thoughts always seemed to find their way back to the way he looked at me.
And I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was all so new.
Even now, all I could see was that smirk, the one that made me forget I was covered in my lukewarm latte. All I felt was his fingertips grazing mine as he passed me his t-shirt. All I could do was try to figure out why he looked so familiar. All I could smell was his cologne that was embedded in the stitches of the t-shirt, which were now clinging to me for dear life.
“Gold’s, you okay?” Rory’s voice pulled me out of whatever trance I was in.
After letting my eyes come back into focus and taking in the way her thick, dark hair fell to the middle of her back, covering the pink strappy dress she had on, I quickly nodded at her. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine."
After getting lost between buildings that all looked the same, we eventually made it to the Soho Observatory. Every kind of decoration in the signature green and colour Liberty Grove colours were the other inkling that we'd found where we were supposed to be. We all get handed our passes and head over to the elevator up to the 42nd floor.
"Is this a good time to mention that I’m petrified of heights?” Rory’s shaky voice echoes off the mirrored walls of the elevator, her overly furrowed brows and tightly closed eyes reflecting off every surface too.
I tapped across the floor until I was beside her, wrapping my short arms around her and tugging her close to me. “I’ll stay away from the edge with you if you want?” I asked, smiling up at her as one of her eyes peeked open.
“Will you?” She asked in a whisper.
“No, I’ll stay with her,” Daisy called from the other side of the elevator. “Me and heights get on about as well as brand new Wilson Boots and Montana shoeshine.” She laughs to herself as she dips her head, but after a moment of silence and my and Cora's eyes darting around trying to figure out what she meant, she looks back up at us. “Shoeshine is what we say when you step in a pile of cow shi—”
The ding of the elevator makes all four of us go silent, as the doors open to reveal a walkway. And right at the end, through a pair of glass doors, is possibly the most breathtaking sunset I’ve ever seen.
My feet move without me thinking; the effortless swirls of yellows, pinks and lilacs were all that drove me to walk out onto the lookout platform. I couldn’t make out what the girls were saying as they followed behind me, but I did hear their collective gasp as they joined me, until all four of us stood beside each other as the slow hum of music hovered around us.
I had a feeling that this would be a moment I’d think back to when we graduated. And I know that feels like a lifetime away, but I just know that this will be what I’m thinking about as we all cross our stages. All I’ll see is the pastel sunset and four friends from separate corners of the planet, starting the rest of their lives.
“Je pense que je vais vomir,” Rory mutters, almost breathlessly. “Okay, that’s enough view for me. Daisy, care to join me anywhere that isn’t near that glass wall of death?”
“Love to.” Daisy rushes, and the pair fall out of our line, leaving only me, Cora, and the view.
“God, I wish we had sunsets like this back in London,” Cora says, keeping her eyes fixed on the skyline. “Calling it pretty feels like an insult.”
I sucked in a breath, the cold air sending chills through my body. “It’s everything I dreamed it would be.”
I don’t think I could take my eyes away from the view, even if someone turned me away from it. I felt Cora’s attention shift, though, landing on me instead.
“Do you need a moment?”
I glanced up at her, tilting my head slightly—Cora wasn’t much taller than me. Unlike the Cora I knew, and adored, her question held no teasing, no mockery. Just pure sincerity.
She, Daisy, and Rory all knew what it meant for me to be standing here right now. Cora and Rory knew me before I met them; they had seen my face on TV and became distant fans of the girl on the screen. But what they didn’t know, until that one night when it seemed all our secrets and trauma-ridden pasts were being shared, was why I wanted to be here so badly.
My life had never felt like mine. Neither did my future, or my dreams, or my thoughts, or my words. Nothing about me felt like it belonged to me. It felt as though each of those things had a label, and scribbled onto that label were my parent's names.
They were passionate about me and my sister having careers in the limelight that they never had for themselves. Mom left home at eighteen and set her dreams on the lights and stars of Los Angeles, while Dad was the son of one of the best producers from the golden age of Hollywood. But it seemed that both of their dreams never gained enough speed to fully take flight.
And so, their dreams were passed onto us like hand-me-down dungarees and vintage sweatshirts.
What we didn’t expect to inherit was the people-pleasing gene that seemed to skip both our parents and fall straight onto us. I had no idea Adaline was just as terrified of saying no to them as I was. I had no idea that the same fears that stormed over the tower I’d locked myself in also rained upon hers, too. Until the first dinner we had as a family in eight years ended with unmasked secrets, raised voices, and me crying so hard I forgot how to breathe.
But if all of it meant I got to stand here right now, looking out onto the city I dreamed about the second my head hit the pillow, I’d live that life a thousand times over.
Because I made it.
I finally made it.
The words felt like a sigh of relief as they travelled through my mind, and before I knew I felt my lips tug into a soft smile.
I nodded at Cora, her pretty eyes softening as she looked down at me, before I felt her move away, leaving me with only my thoughts and the view.
I sucked in as much fresh air as my lungs would allow as I carefully made my way to the glass. It looked so clean that I had to graze my fingertips against it, just to make sure it was there. But the glow from my hair and the slight reflection from my dress made the illusion fade too.
You did it, Marigold. You did it, and you’re here, and nobody is going to take that away from you. There will be no more sets, or auditions, only you and your degree. You’re free to learn in the way you’ve always wanted.
Hearing my voice echo off the walls of my mind made my smile only hike higher up my face, my cheeks blooming, and that new ache in my smile lines settling in place.
And I was right. Being here at Liberty, I was free to study, grow my knowledge of how the mind works, and learn the things I’d always wanted to. My sister always found it endearing—my fascination with the brain and what made us tick. And when she asked why I was so captivated by it, I simply shrugged and told her that I just was.
But deep down, I think that knowing the inner workings of the mind would help me understand what pushed our parents to force their dreams onto us. I guessed that if I could figure that out, the world, my world, would start to make sense.
And I know that I got my dreams in the end, but still, I wanted to know.
A sharp gust of September wind made me stumble, a collective ‘woah’ from the other freshman roaming around the lookout. That was when I turned my head and noticed Cora making headway for me.
“Okay, the moment’s over. I don't like being on my own because people keep recognising me, and I think the acrophobia twins over there might actually pass out in a second, and I’ll need help carting them when that happens.”
I cast my eyes over to the corner of the space, and after rising on my tiptoes, I could just about make out Daisy and Rory, avoiding looking anywhere other than punch-filled flutes in their hands. I tilted my head before nodding at Cora, and we began making our way over to the pair.
“You know, if you had told us that you hated heights, then we could’ve skipped out on this event and just gone for pizza instead,” I said to both Daisy and Rory, who jumped their eyes up to me.
Rory shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine. We need to make the most of the free snacks while we can.”
I gave her my best ‘fair enough’ look, before Daisy pressed a hand to her chest. “Yeah, she’s right. Plus, I was hoping to run into—”
“Daisy!!” A gruff voice called, causing us all to turn around and face whoever had called her, but finding that out became the least of my concerns when my eyes landed on a familiar face wedged between the crowd.
And you know what? I take back everything I just said about wanting to know the inner workings of the mind. I take it all back. Because I’m not sure I want to know what the sensation that the building was falling from beneath my feet meant the second my eyes latched onto the man I haven’t stopped thinking about all day.
It seems we all freeze as three guys head in our direction. The one in the centre who takes the lead has floppy blonde hair and emerald eyes—the perfect combination to make my knees want to buckle, but I keep them locked. The guy to his right seems more reserved, pulling at the hems of his dusky blue button down, one that made his deep brown skin pop.
But as much as I want to focus my attention on them, I can’t. No, my silly attention span won’t detach itself from the guy who gave me his shirt this morning.
“Speak of the devil,” Daisy said as she headed for the guy in the middle of the pack, before reaching her arms around him and pulling him in for a hug.
Cora cleared her throat, her smile undeniable. “Daisy, sweetheart. Care to introduce us?” She asked, her hands locked in front of her as she idly swayed, while Rory seemed to want to stay in the shadows.
Daisy’s arms fell back by her side as she turned back to face us. “Guys, this is Finn. My brother, who I told you about.”
The second the word ‘brother’ left her mouth, it was impossible not to see their resemblance. Their dusty blonde hair was one in the same, as were the swell of their cheeks. Not to mention the specific twang in their voices that matched up perfectly when they spoke.
“Finn, this is Cora, Goldie and Aurora,” Daisy said as she pointed to each of us.
“Hey,” Finn chirped as he nodded his chin at us, his eyes roaming, but seeming to hover over Rory for a second longer than he did with me and Cora. “Guys, this is my sister, Daisy.”
Daisy chirped a ‘hi’ to the guys on either side of her brother.
Finn pointed to the guy on his left. “This is Jesse, although you already know that, Daisy.”
I caught the way Daisy’s eyes lingered over Jesse, the corner of his mouth tugging as he locked eyes with her and reached out his hand, his fingertips flicking her nose innocently, before she swatted it away, their grins now matching.
History. There was history there.
But before I could distract myself with figuring out what kind of history, Finn pointed to his left. “And this is Tristan.”
Tristan Harper. That was Tristan Harper.
Oh my God. How didn’t I see it sooner?
I knew his face was familiar, and the accent too, but now that I had his name, it all clicked. That feeling I had this morning—staring up at him, ignoring the coffee stain on my shirt, trying to convince myself I wasn’t losing it—was suddenly falling into place, like pieces of a beautiful puzzle coming together.
How the hell didn’t I realise it sooner?
All the girls mumble a hello to the guys, apart from me. For some reason, seeing Tristan again has severed the connection between my brain and my vocal chords.
Tristan doesn’t seem affected, though, as a small smirk tugs on the corners of his mouth as he nods at me. “Hello, Sunshine.”