Page 86 of Starstruck

Like I was doing now.

I brushed past a walking tour full of tourists, carefully avoidingthem knocking off my guitar that was slung over my shoulders, and made a beeline towards the fountain that sat in the centre of Washington Square Park. The mist from the water mixed with the rain made the place feel cold, and I swore at myself for not bringing a jacket with me.

I’d be fine; being brought up England has it’s advantages, andknowing how to brave the rain is one of them.

I glance over at the marble arch that does nothing but whisk meback to London, before I carry on to the left and set my eyes on the patch of grass, just under the protection of the droopy branches of an oak tree.

I’d been here a few times now, the first when I came with Gold’s, and the otherfew times just on my own, after everything happened with Henry. I don’t know what it was about the place; I just liked it. And because of everything else going on around the park, no-one took any notice of me when I set up my guitar and got to working on a few of the songs I’ve got lined up for this album.

Writing seemed to be the one thing that hadn’t ruined my mood these past fewweeks. If anything, drafting up the verses and figuring out melodies was the only thing that took my mind off of everything. It stopped me from overthinking the threats that Henry shot at me like an arrow, piercing the most fragile part of me.

I hiked my guitar case further up my shoulder before brushing pastanother crowd and dipping down a bench-lined path to get to the—

Goldie.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw her, my heart lodging in my throat and allthe air in my lungs evaporating.

I had to blink, making sure that she really was the person sitting on one of thebenches ahead of me, and not some weird apparition that the thought of her had caused. I hadn’t seen her since the game, since she was tucked under my umbrella and gazing up at me with those eyes that felt like a log fire, warming my frozen body. And yet every second that passed, she’d been the only thing on my mind.

It was her. I’d recognise that face in the busiest of crowds on the busiest day ofthe year.

She could never get lost in one.

I ran a hand through my damp hair, if only to give myself time to think aboutwhat I was going to do. Some bitter voice in my mind told me to leave her be, to take her walking away from me the other night as the sign I needed to distance us for good.

Good for you, you plonker. Letting her walk back into the arseholewho’s threatening to ruin you and break her heart isn’t good.

That thought triggered another voice, all timid and quiet, trying as best as itcould to tell me to just talk to her. And that was enough to get my feet moving towards her.

Regardless of what we were, or what we were pretending to be, I still cared forthat girl, and if the way she was sitting on a bench in the rain, mixed with the way I could tell the water rolling down her cheeks wasn’t raindrops, checking if she was okay felt like the only thing I wanted to do.

It was those same thoughts and raging jealousy inside me that drewme to her at the game.

I felt my pulse grow erratic with every step I dared, only simmeringonce I traced the parts of her that she wasn’t hiding. Her red cheeks, the wet ends of her golden plaites, shaky legs… I studied it all. As I neared her, I cleared my throat, subtly enough that she peeked up from under the hood of her jumper.

I dipped my head enough to catch her stare as I said, “Hey, Gold’s.”

Her brown eyes were sodden, one final tear slipping from her lash line as shegazed at me. Quick as anything, she hiked up the corners of her mouth, wiping away any evidence that she was sad.

“Oh, hey.” She mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of her thick jumper, disguisinga chill that had her feet tucking under the bench.

I nodded my chin at her. “What’s going on?”

She tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s just…” I held her eyes as she held me, her thoughts asclear against her iris’s as I sank into them. And then she sighed. “Henry was supposed to be here an hour ago, but he isn’t picking up and… well, I thought it best to wait for him.”

That motherfucker.

“You’ve been sitting in the rain for an hour waiting for him?” Shenodded. “Gold’s—”

“It’s okay, I’m fine. This is all my fault anyway.” She shrugged, alittle laugh slipping from her lips as she let her gaze fall.

I scoffed. “Why would the fact that he ditched you be yourfault?”

She kept her head down, but her sigh reached my ears just enough.“I’d rather not tell you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, well, now you have to tell me.”

She sighed as she tilted her head to the sky, her eyes wide, soakingup all the light she could before tilting her head to face me. “It’s so stupid.” She shook her head. “He walked me home from the Lions game, and we got talking about how we’d been distant and why that had happened. And then we got talking about us and what we wanted and when I confessed…” Her eyes moved to me for a moment, before she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, but anyway, we had this whole argument; I was still in my head, I wasn’t thinking straight and… I called him Tristan.”