Page 20 of Starstruck

“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 français quand je veux. Tu n'as aucune idée de ce que je dis de toute façon, 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.

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