Page 76 of Starstruck

to get over someone, you have to wear their clothes

Idon’t know how we’d managed it, but somehow, my Fridayschedule—along with Daisy’s, Rory’s, and Cora’s—was a perfect, class-free day. Not one lecture, seminar, or lab. The only thing we had to remember was the Lions game at 7:00 p.m. That was it. As long as we were there, the rest of the day was ours to fill however we liked.

Now that November had settled in, those unnerving first weeks longgone, we had our routine down pat. First up was breakfast at The Rolling Pin, for coffee and pie and the mandatory daily debrief. Afterwards, we’d split up. Rory and Cora took the morning shifts at Flo’s, while Daisy headed to her volunteering gig at the children’s hospital to play guitar and sing for the kids who could use a smile.

I’d head to the library, pretending to catch up on notes whileavoiding the looming case study for Etoille’s class. Every time I tried to focus on it, Henry crept into my mind. That gorgeous smile of his, was one I didn’t have to think twice about before admiring. But now my thoughts were tangled, knotted up with suspicion that there was something hidden beneath it.

I kept telling myself I’d tackle it after Thanksgiving. Maybe thebreak would clear my head, and wipe away whatever unease had been sticking to me lately.

After lunch, the four of us would always meet up again. It hadbecome our little tradition: take turns picking a neighbourhood we hadn’t explored yet, somewhere off our bucket list, and spend the day getting lost in its streets. It was simple, but it was ours, and for now, it felt like the perfect escape from everything else.

But I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed this morning. The ideaof going to Pin's for our usual debrief felt too heavy, too much, so I stayed curled up in my blankets, letting the rain pattering against the window be my excuse. I did my notes from bed, the laptop a poor stand-in for the comforting chatter I was missing. And when I got bored of that, I spent the better half of the morning making playlists filled with songs that sounded like they were written about me, wallowing in my corner of the room.

When Daisy texted to check on me, asking why I wasn’t gettingdressed, I told her it was the rain. I said I could feel the second round of the flu coming on and didn’t want to get sick again before the break. Also that I'd been trying to crawl my way out of my book slump, and after getting a fresh batch of books, stuffed with faerie overlords that promised me an escape of this reality for a while, I told her that if I put it off, I might as well never read again.

Her reply came quickly, but it wasn’t her words that got to me—it was the look I imagined she was giving her phone. She knew I was lying, that much was clear. My voice wasn’t anywhere near as hoarse as it had been during my first bout of illness. And just last night when we all went out for pizza with Jesse, I couldn't stop myself from explaining the world of my books to him.

“You know, it’s okay if you’re spending all this time with Tristan,Goldie. He is your boyfriend after all.”

That was what Daisy said before she left after lunch, and I had tokeep the realisation off my face so she didn’t catch onto anything. But the moment she left, my head fell into my hands, and the peculiarity of this whole situation hit me like a gust of wind.

For someone who was craving normalcy, I sure did have an odd wayof going about it. What the hell was normal about having my first relationship be one that wasn’t real? What the hell was normal about slowly discovering your feelings for the boy you promised not to fall for, only to know that they’ll have no choice but to fizzle out when he decides to leave?

I tried to convince myself that I was just spending too much timewith him, that, come the day he leaves, I’ll be fine, and I’ll forget he ever existed. But how was it possible to forget a soul that understood yours better than anyone else’s? How was it possible to erase someone who had found a way to tattoo themselves in your mind?

I combed through my textbooks and found the chapters about brain chemistry, the ones aboutattachment, and the pathways that crossed when you knew you were falling for someone. But none of them gave me what I was looking for. They told me to prepare for grief, like he was already slipping away, as though losing him would feel like death. And somehow, reading that made my legs tremble, like the words held a truth I hadn’t been ready to face. The thought of him being just a dream—a beautiful, fleeting thing—was enough to make my heart sink deeper than I thought possible.

The books might as well have said I’d gone past the point of noreturn. Every word felt like a confirmation of what I’d been too afraid to admit. I didn’t sleep a wink that night, staring at the ceiling, but every now and then I'd let my mind float back to our moment after class the other day, our mouths inches apart. I'd think about what he told me, about his parents, about the album, and recall how that vulnerability was just another reason I was feeling this way.

I was screwed, basically.

How could I have been so naive as to getmyself in this position?That question was pointless when I really thought about it, becauseall I had to do to get my answer was think of all the reasons why I’d felt drawn to Tristan in the first place.

“I’m fucked.” I sighed as I curled up further into my covers, anglingmy head against the headrest of my bed, the slapping of the rain coaxing my eyes to close. But just as I felt the weight of sleep crash down on my shoulders, promising me an escape from all the overthinking for a while, I heard the dorm door creak open, the giggles of my friends filtering in from the echoey hallway.

“Cheers for today, Jamie. Make sure Sofia gets those muffins, willya?” Cora angled her head back, talking to the man I’d never seen before, but even without the way she casually dropped his name, I could’ve guessed. Jamie—her bodyguard.

The nearly six-foot-tall man, dressed in dark grey, let out a chuckle,shaking the brown paper bag in his hand. “Got ’em here, kid. I’ll make sure she gets ‘em. Let me know if you head out later. I’ll be at the door in five.”

As Daisy and Rory filtered in from the hallway, I watched Coralace her arms around her waist, narrowing her eyes at him. “You know I’ll text her to check she actually ate them. As in, all four of them that are in that bag right now.”

Jamie’s face softened into an easy grin, his dimples deepeningbeneath a layer of stubble, his eyes almost twinkling as he looked down at her. “It’s your fault for making them so moreish.”

Cora rolled her eyes, but there was a playful warmth there too. “I’llsee you tomorrow.”

Daisy and Rory waved as Jamie’s figure disappeared down the hall.

When the door clicked shut, Cora leaned back against it, letting out a long breath. “God, I’ve missed having him around. That man deserves a raise with everything he does.”

She sounded relieved, and I couldn’t blame her. She’d told us a fewweeks ago how her following had blown up after a viral video, and with that came a handful of not-so-friendly encounters. Jamie’s presence wasn’t just reassuring for her—it made us all feel better, knowing she was safe when she was out in the city alone.

“It also helps that he’s probably the most gorgeous man I’ve everseen in my life,” Daisy said as the rustling of bags meeting the hardwood floor stole my attention for a second.

I kept my gaze out the window, but as their laughs halted, I peekedover at them, their faces huddled before they all looked in my direction. Until Cora’s mouth popped open with a smirk.

“For someone who claims that she hates wearing anything that isn’tpastel, you sure do love that t-shirt, don’t you?”

My head fell to the shirt that pooled around my body, moulding overthe curve of my hips, the same one that Tristan gave me the first time I properly met him. It had unashamedly become my bedtime shirt, the one I’d change into the second I got home from my classes, and spent all night getting cosy in.

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