11. chapter eleven
chapter eleven
let's trade daydreams
“ T ristan? Tristannnn?” Becca’s voice pulled me from my thoughts andflung me back into the library, where we were sitting around the light oak table with stacks and stacks of books surrounding us.
I was still waiting for an answer from that deity, because somehow I'd convinced myself that showing up today would be worth my time. Shock horror, it wasn't. The second we sat down, it was eyelash flutters and knee nudges that were anything but accidental.
I drag my eyes to hers, my stare as blank as my notebook, before letting my head fall into my hands and raking them through my hair. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Her head tipped to one side, the blunt edges of her blonde hairbrushing her bare shoulders. The library's air conditioning hummed with relentless intensity, likely for the books, but I pulled my sleeves over my knuckles, teeth on the verge of chattering. She didn’t flinch, though, just sat there, like the cold didn’t dare touch her.
“I was saying…” She cast her eyes back down to the dozen books wehad spread out over the table, studying them for barely a second, before closing the one in front of her, the thud echoing around the room. “Look, why don’t we put a pin in this? We’re both tired, and frankly, this is just boring.” She started gathering the papers around us. “How about we go get some frozen yoghurt or something?”
I lifted my hands as they lay on the table, like I’d lost all the fucksI had to give. “And that would be?”
Her head whipped over to me, eyes wide. “You’ve never had frozenyoghurt? Boy, they really hate you over in Europe. Oh, but I’d love to go one day; I’ve heard it’s such a nice country.”
Ah, yes, Europe—that famous country where all Europeans live inharmony in one happy utopia. Seriously, what did they teach the kids over here?
I didn’t even try to hide the sarcastic grin creeping onto my face as I pushed my chair back, slamming the oversized textbook shut with a bit more force than necessary. “You know what, love? I’ll give the frozen yoghurt a miss. How about we just call it a day, yeah?”
Before I could collect the stationery I had scattered across thetable, I felt Becca put a hand on my arm, her fingers so cold I could feel them through my sleeve.
Her eyes softened. “Hey, look, I know you’re stressed; I can’t imagine what it must be like tomove so far away from home, all the way to a different country, all by yourself, and still have the pressures from your music.” Her head dropped to her lap for a second, before latching her eyes on me again. “And you’ve got all this work to do, plus you’re learning a different culture and… I just feel for you, Tristan.”
"Oh," I sighed, barely echoing. I think it was sincerity of it. The sympathy, or what looked like sympathy, that shone in her eyes.
In that moment, I saw Jemyma. And it hit me then, that familiarity I couldn't place with her before. Not in the way she looked, but in the quiet, almost magnetic confidence she wore like armor, as if it powered her every move. That kind of self-assurance that seemed unbreakable, like it had been built over time, layer by layer. But there was more. Beneath the boldness, there was a softness, a sweetness she kept hidden, tucked just out of reach. And the first time I glimpsed it with Jem, I knew I’d found a friend.
Maybe Becca was like that too; the type to show the world only her sharp edges, but let her guard down, let her peel away the armour, and she’d be the one who sees past your bravado, picking up on feelings even you’re not ready to face. A good person, grounded at her core.
But things got messy with Jemyma. To the point where I never truly saw that softness unless she was high. One night after another fucked-up trip to Palm 22, we ended up shagging in the back of her car at four in the morning. I was too high to question it, and maybe too hopeful to care. She was stunning, undeniably so, and I wanted to believe that maybe—just maybe—the gentle side she kept locked away was something she’d chosen to show only me.
She never remembered. Sleeping with me. The next night, when I pulled her aside, asked if she was okay after what we did, she just blinked at me, confusion drifting across her gaze like waves over glass. The only thing she seemed to recall was the new Molly we'd tried.
That was when it hit me—whatever goodness I’d seen in her was a flicker buried in the dark center of her. A faint glimmer, but nowhere near strong enough to light anything beyond itself. She was a Christmas light that was barely lit.
Becca’s voice pulled me from the memory, her eyes reflecting the same sympathy I’d seen earlier. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” Her words were soft, sincere, stripped of the casual, flirty tone she usually wore like a second skin.
For once, I found it comforting, like I’d been waiting for someone to really see me, not just the guy trying to play catch-up in this new life. A part of me wanted to thank her, to tell her how hard it had been to adapt to all this—college, the endless faces, the lies, the noise of it all. Maybe, if I let myself, I’d have looked at her a little differently right then, reminded myself not to be such a dick'ead and judge her too quickly.
I’d do all of that… if it weren’t for the fact that her hand, thatwas resting on her lap a second ago, was now grazing my thigh, gliding higher and higher before I scraped my chair along the wooden floor, the noise echoing off the bookcases as a gasp came from her.
“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked her, myvoice as quiet as I could make it. Although I could feel my hands shaking with panic, as it wrapped itself around my veins and froze me in place.
Becca had the cheek to leave her hand right where it was, shaking her head and letting out one of those giggles like groping me was as normal as ordering a pint. “Have you never had a girl hit on you before?”
I nodded, keeping my face frozen, hoping it would keep how fast my heart was beating to myself. “Plenty of times, though they usually don’t get their hands on me unless I give the green light.”
Her eye roll was insulting, making me feel stupid for assuming there was any sincerity that lived in that stare at all. “It’s not a big deal, Tristan, everyonedoes it. Haven’t you heard about the library dare?” My still face told her my answer better than words could. “It’s this thing that students in the eighties started here at Liberty, the dare was to hit as many bases as you could without making a sound or getting caught.”
My tired eyes narrowed at her. “And were you gonna tell me thisbefore or after we hit the first base.”
One of her shoulders lifted. “It slipped my mind.”
Well, what would you know? Another fucking Christmas light.
Her eyes fell to her hand, as did mine, as shemoved it higher towards the inside of my thigh. “I thought I'd help, maybe relive some of that stress that's—”
“Oh, shit!”
I know that voice.I hate that I know that voice.
“My bad, I’ll just um… I’ll… I’m, gonna go.”
I turned my head quick enough to catch the end of her figurerunning behind one of the bookcases, my feet itching to take me after her. Becca giggled behind me as I began to gather my things, the noise like sharpened claws dragging down my back, so I turned around and hissed, “Just so we’re clear, this”—I waved my hand dramatically between me and her—“is never going to happen. Touch me again, and I’ll make sure you’re not allowed within ten feet of me. Got it?”
I turned my back on her, ignoring whatever it was she called afterme, and headed for Goldie.
My body zigzagged between the shelves, catching my shoulders onthe corners as I ran between them, before I eventually found her, pacing between the narrow aisles of the bookcases with a stack of books tucked against her chest. I wiped the sheen of sweat from my forehead as I reached her, startling her as I got closer.
My breath caught as I rushed out, “Hey,I’m sorry about that—”
“Oh, God, no, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologise.” She shook herhead, like she was trying to wipe the memory of seeing Becca’s hand on my thigh out of her head. “So I… I take it the project is going… well?” She practically choked the words, her smile as innocent as her eyes looked.
I shook my head. “That… that wasn’t what it looked like, I promise.I… didn’t want that.”
Her doh-eyes only widened once she caught on to what I wasn’tsaying, and coupled with the panic slicking my words, it probably painted the perfect picture for her.
“She…” She stumbled over the words. “She groped you? In themiddle of the library?”
I nodded, dropping her gaze and pathetically muttering, “Yep.”
Her sigh melted in my ears, and when I lifted my eyes, I noticed herhead resting against a shelf, as she fluttered her eyes closed. Like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. “God, Tristan, you should tell someone. You can’t just let her getaway with that—”
“I know… I know.” I met her eyes. “Apparently, it’s some big tradition here at Liberty. She reckons it’s a campus-wide dare—see how many bases you can hit without getting caught, or something?"
Realisation washed over her face. “Oh, that.”
I raised my brows. “You’ve heard about it?”
She nodded, the dim light catching her eyes. “I think everyone'sheard some retelling of that story, but it’s like a legend, and it’s gross and rude and… something you shouldn’t have been subjected to.”
She might’ve missed it, but I didn’t. The way her fingers fidgetedwith the sleeves of her cardigan when I brought up bases, how her eyes stayed fixed on the table when she talked about the dare—it was all there, just beneath the surface. Her voice stumbled, the air between us thick with what she couldn’t say, but I caught it. Every unspoken word.
I couldn’t help but shake my head, letting out a small breath as Isteered us onto safer ground. Something about her discomfort tugged at me, enough to change the subject without a second thought.
“Did you need something? Or did you just happen to run into a livesex show on your stroll through the library?” I finished my words with a laugh, which coaxed one out of her, pretty and delicate.
She nodded, fiddling with the books in her arms before strollingover to the other shelf. “It was nothing, really. I was going to ask you tonight, at the Lions game, but I didn’t know if you’d be there so when I spotted you I thought I could ask you if you were going, but then I might as well have just asked you what I was originally going to ask you tonight so it made no sense to wait and I—”
“Goldie?” I ask her, a chuckle rolling from my tongue.
“Yeah?”
I nod my chin at her, a smile curling up my lips as I murmur,“Breathe, Sunshine.”
She seemed to settle then, almost, letting go of a breath, whichmade her whole body sigh.
It was then that I felt what I’d felt that night of the freshmanevent. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but she was the thing that caused it. She was the recurring element. It felt like grief, that sensation that knotted inside of me, like I missed her even though she was standing right in front of me.
She eventually regained the breaths she’d lost speed talking,before her smile lit up. “I wanted to tell you that… well, it’s my birthday in a few weeks, October 31st.”
I didn’t mean to look shocked by that, but I couldn’t help not be.
The girl who embodied sunshine and all things good was born on the spookiest day of the year? How did that add up?
“I didn’t want to mention it to anyone, but when Cora found out sheinsisted on organising something. So now she’s booked a table at some restaurant in Manhattan, it’s Italian, which is my favourite, so she didn’t have to do much persuading in the end. And actually, I thought it would be nice as our first outing, as a group.”
I nodded, not wanting her to stop talking.
“And it’s after the presentation too, so we can also celebrate that.Ideally, I’d love to go out dancing or something like that, but we can’t drink so there’d be no—”
I shook my head. “We can drink.” I corrected her.
But she simply shook her head, her smile thinning. “No, we can’t.”
I shrugged, peeling my curved spine away from the bookcase. “Well, I'm nineteen, and the rest of you are all eighteen, right? What’s the issue?”
Her laugh was quiet. “If we decide to have this dinner in your andCora’s homeland, then we can drink, yes.” She took a step towards me, her cupids bow popping as her mouth did. “But this is the USA, sir, the fun doesn’t start until we’re twenty-one.”
If I wasn’t too busy smiling down at her, I would have told her tonever call me ‘sir’ again. Not because I didn’t like it, oh no, I liked it a tad too much.
I told those thoughts to do one before clearing my throat, the actI’d built up over these past few weeks only now descending back over me, as I shuffled on my feet. “I’m starting to think my parents sent me here for more reasons than they told me about.”
Her laugh stayed hushed as it glided through the dusty shelves, butstill, I imagined a melody for the song I was working on this morning, the chords of her laugh that I could lace in there without anyone but me knowing what they meant.
“Big drinker are you?” She asked as her laugh faded, dipping hersmile to the floor for a second.
“Since I was sixteen, ma’am.” I joked, although the suddenaftertaste of sour drinks and burning spirits invaded my mouth.
I hadn’t drank since that night, and now just the thought of it mademe want to run. Bolt back through the shelves and catch my breath that I could feel slipping away from me, just like it was that night.
Goldie’s head slowly cranes back upwards, purely to reach my heightnow she was only a pace away. “So… my birthday?”
Yes.
The word rushed through my mind before her question waseven finished. But as it settled, as I let myself imagine what that night could turn into, the claws of panic sank deeper, scratching at the heat crawling up my spine. Saying yes meant pulling that rope tighter, the one that already bound me to her—to the rest of them. It meant staying close to her light, knowing full well I could get burned.
“Tristan?”
I shook my head, my hair falling across my forehead, while ignoring everything as I let mysmile show. “I’d love to be there.”
Her dimples deepened, and her whole body seemed to stand taller.“Okay, cool. Thank you.” She glanced from side to side, tucking a curl behind her ear, but before she turned away, something dinged from inside her bag, and not a second later her phone was in her hand.
Whatever she was reading from her phone was making her smile,and seeing that naturally made me curious. “Everything okay?” I asked with a chuckle.
Her head pinged up, eyes bright. “Oh, yeah. It’s just… Henry.”
I didn’t miss how her cheeks reddened when his name passedthrough her lips, and I didn’t miss the way her bottom lip sank between her teeth. And before I know what I’m doing, I ask her. “Things going well with the project, I take it?”
She types something back to him, and with every tapping noise thatsounded that knot my in stomach only knotted more, before slipping the thing back in her bag. “It’s going well, nothing like Miss Can’t Take A Hint back there,” We both giggled, if only to let the tower of awkwardness and the memory of what she’d walked into crumble between us. “He’s… sweet.” She said with a shrug, before she sank back to the bookcase she was just leaning against, dropped my stare and gave her attention to the air.
In the few times Goldie and I had been around each other, I’dnoticed she was quite the daydreamer. She’d drift away from the conversation and get lost in the details of wherever we were. Even in class, sometimes I’d catch her angling her head to the ceiling. You could see, behind those golden eyes, that she was somewhere else entirely. I made a habit of guessing where she was, what scenario was playing out in her head as she let her mind wander.
But with the way my brain was working today, I didn’t have room to housethose questions, which was why I nodded my chin in her direction and asked casually, “What are you dreaming about?”
It was like the whole campus fell silent to hear the breath she sucked in.
Her eyes were on mine in a heartbeat, all panicked and wide and likeshe’d been caught out. But the longer she saw my expression, the longer she took in my smile, her brows softened, and her eyes sparkled, almost like this intrigue was new to her.
But she shook her head, brushing it off. "Oh, nothing, just…daydreaming."
"I know, I just want to knowwhat they were."
Her face stayed blank, a mask that didn’t crack. "It was nothing,really."
"Goldie."
"It’s nothing, Tristan." She laughed, but it was light, almost forced."They’re not important."
I stepped closer, eyes searching hers. "And who made you believethat?"
She didn’t respond, but I could see it—the sadness flickeringbeneath the surface. I wanted it gone.
"Tell you what," I said, lowering my voice, "Why don’t we trade?When something’s on our mind, no matter what it is, we swap daydreams." I tilted my head, offering a small smile. "Deal?"
She hesitated, weighing the offer, then gave a soft shrug,whispering, "Okay, deal." Her hand waved at me, a casual motion, though her books stayed firmly in place. "You go first. I want to hear one of your dreams."
“Okay.” I lean my body against the shelf behind me, loosely wrappingmy arms around my torso. “I’m dreaming about how being here isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but if the opportunity to leave came, I’d probably run out of here.”
Lies. Lies Lies.
“Your turn, Sunshine.”
"Okay," she started, eyes drifting as she spoke. "I’m dreaming about how much I like being around Henry, how much I like being here in general, but… there’s just something about him."
Her eyes flicked to me for the briefest second when she said "him,"like she was waiting for something, but I couldn’t pin down what it meant.
"And then," she continued, her voice softer now, "I remember how little I know about my own heart. How everything seems to come so naturally to everyone else, and I’ve never had the time to… you know, fall in love." She paused, her words hanging in the air. "Not really."
As I kept my eyes on her, I only felt my stare turning moreendearing the more she talked. There was a sweetness about this girl that felt like a once-in-a-lifetime find.If Jemyma and Becca were the single Christmas lights on a tiny string, Goldie was the star; the light you naturally focused on.
And maybe that was the part of her that I felt drawn to.
I knew I shouldn’t. Getting attached was the one rule I wassupposed to follow, the one line I couldn’t cross. But here I was, teetering on the edge, drawn in by something I couldn’t shake.
Maybe it was because I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that everyinstinct told me to turn back. But she wasn’t the dark corners I’d always hidden in, not a shadow to blend into. She was light—bright, unapologetic, a beam of sunshine that left no room for secrets. Or maybe it was because, in some other world, a perfect one, I was never supposed to be here at all. And the thought of not being here, right now, staring at her across the bookshelves, sent a shiver up my spine.
But her focus was elsewhere, her mind on someone else—a boy Iimagined she could’ve easily pictured for herself. Someone who made sense for her. Someone good.
As her stare fell to her books, I blurted out, without thinking, “Youshould ask him out if you fancy him.”
Those eyes darted back to me, her head not budging, though. “Idon’t fancy him.”
“Your face is telling me a different story.”
Her smile was barely contained. “Well, even if I did, I wouldn’t knowwhat to do, or how to even approach something like that.” Before I could say anything else, before she could so much as reshuffle the books in her hands, her mouth pried open. “I’ve got to get to class, but, I’ll see you tonight, at the Lions game?”
She began to walk back out from the shelf we’d existed in, walkingback into the natural light from the domed ceiling, when I smiled at her, and muttered, “Yeah, see you there Goldie.”
And then she was gone, slipping down another book-lined corridorand into the labyrinth of the library, while I let my legs give out, sliding down to the floor and crawling into the dusky hedge maze that my mind had turned into. Wandering through it's paths, like a moth, chasing the last bit of daylight.
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