Page 88 of Starstruck

Looking down at her, standing in this facade we’d made for ourselves, madeevery nightmare I’d had about the world finding out the truth look like the prettiest of daydreams. Like the outside world no longer existed, and all I had to focus on was her.

Which was why I couldn’t pin down my smile even if I wanted to when she stood that little bit taller, the way she always does, and breathed, “Fine.”

We walk side by side until we reach the patch of grass we’d sat at a few weeksago, the rain easing up to a misty shower as we sat next to each other, under the cover of the tree. Goldie set down the blanket that she’d brought with her at the base of the trunk, both of us claiming spots only inches from each other.

I started unclipping the guitar case as I asked her, “So you’ve neverplayed guitar before?”

She shook her head, bringing her knees up to her chest and holdingthem. “Notreally, a little in middle school, but I quickly figured out that a career in the musical arts wasn’t on the cards for me.”

I laughed, pulling the case open and lifting the only acoustic guitar I’d broughtwith me onto my lap. “Well, maybe you just had a shit teacher.”

“Or maybe I was just shit.”

“I find that very hard to believe. You’re unfairly good ateverything.”

She peered up at me and smirked, the creases in her smile linewarming me like usual.

I shrugged, before I blurted. “Well, apart from rememberingnames—”

“Hey!” Her laugh felt like a sigh of relief as it echoed around ourlittle bubble. “Too soon.” She whispered, as her smile lit up.

I blew a laugh out of my nose, before my eyes dipped to the guitar,distracting me. “Okay, we’ll go over the main chords, get you comfortable with using a pick, and go from there. Sound good?”

She shakes her head, her smile only growing. “No, no, it sounds terrifying,actually.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Your face is still on TV, Gold’s, and this is what you findterrifying?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t care about messing up in front of the whole worldbecause I couldn’t care less about whether what I was doing was good or not. Their opinions didn’t matter, but this…“ Just as my mind caught on to what she wasn’t saying, she cleared her throat. “Okay, hand her over then.”

I swallowed, catching my breath like she could steal it by justlooking at me the right way, before I slid the guitar over to her, the embroidered strap falling around her body.

She relaxed her knees and crossed them, settling and getting used to having thething in her hands. She shimmied herself as she sat up right, and I never thought seeing a girl with my guitar in her hands could have such an effect on me, but then again, I hadn’t pictured Goldie with my guitar before.

And it was a picture that would’ve been my favourite if I walked past it in agallery.

I shook my head, leaning over to set her fingers in the right places for thechords. “So that’s a C chord; now take the pick and glide it across the strings.”

Like magic, a beautiful C chord rippled between us.

“Good,” I said, fixing her hands in an F. “And again.” She did as I said, and anF chord sounded out.

I did the same with the rest of the base chords that were practically in everysong imaginable, giving her the full tool kit to get going.

I smiled at her. “Can you try playing one after the other?”

She peered up at me as she nodded. “I’ll try.” Her eyes cast down to the guitar,determination written across her face in the prettiest way possible.

She fixed her fingers to play a C chord, then a B, and just as she went to playan F, her fingers slipped, and she threw her head back as a groan escaped her. “I suck.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at that. “You don’t suck; just try again.”

She repeated the chords I taught her, but this time she got stuck on the B chord. She groaned again, the sound weaving between the raindrops that were hittingthe tree and falling down onto us. “Tristan, this is useless.” Her laugh made me laugh, and as she went to hand me back the guitar, I shook my head.

“No way, you’re gonna get this.” I nodded my head to the side and patted theblanket in front of me, my legs wide so she could slide in. “Come ere’,”

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