Page 47 of All That Glitters

My eyes widen. That’s not what I expected. I’ve heard a few rumors about a fight club, but nothing concrete enough to make me think it’s worth chasing as a story. I know Marigold wouldn’t go after anything she didn’t have evidence to be true, though.

“I can come with you. I think Paisley’s right. We’ve got no idea what goes on there. It wouldn’t be good for you to show up alone,” I say.

Marigold crosses her arms, clearly unhappy.

“Look, I won’t do anything but stand beside you and fend off any idiots. We don’t even have to talk.”

“He’ll be your sentry. Silent and scary,” Paisley adds with a smile. I nod in agreement.

Marigold sighs. “Fine, but emphasis on the silent aspect. I want to do this my way, no interference.”

“Of course,” I say, though worry pricks at my mind. Marigold’s way can be a touch on the aggressive side. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to poke at people who fistfight for fun.

“Meet me outside Alpha Pi at 11:30,” she grumbles.

“How about I meet you outside your building around eleven?” I counter.

Paisley is smiling. Marigold is not.

“Okay.”

Her response—much like the hot cocoa cup—isn’t much to go on, but it’s a step in the right direction. I think.

“Belmore, Sinclair!” Charlie shouts, startling all three of us. Charlie walks down our aisle with a grin. “After going over it with the editors, I’ve decided your article belongs on the cover.”

I immediately turn to Marigold to get her reaction. A smile lights up her face and steals the breath out of my lungs.

“Thank you,” she says, sounding like she’s in shock.

“Thanks, Chief,” I add, knowing Charlie likes to be called that.

Charlie dips his chin. “I reward good work. Keep it up, you two. I’m looking forward to the next one.”

As soon as Charlie is back in his office, Paisley attacks Marigold with a hug. I stay in my seat, wishing I could do the same.

“Your first cover piece!” Paisley squeals.

Marigold laughs. “I mean, it’s not all mine.”

I shake my head. “It’s mostly yours,” I say, and Marigold’s expression falters.

I’m sure she’s thinking of the compliment she gave me in the past, where she said she read all my articles. I know I am.

“We need to celebrate,” Paisley says as she pulls away, oblivious to the tension between Marigold and me. “Should we go get coffee and pastries after we finish up here?”

Marigold’s eyes catch mine for a second before she focuses on Paisley. If we were celebrating, we’d be heading to get ice cream floats. The loss of that tradition hurts, but I have hope we can get it back one day.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Marigold replies with a smile too tense to be real.

“This is an occasion worth going off campus. Oh! What if we go to The Secret Door? Books and coffee, your favorite,” Paisley babbles.

The Secret Door is a local bookstore that has a lounge area hidden behind the shelves. You tug on a certain book, and it leads you into a place to read, relax, and enjoy a beverage. I’ve been a handful of times, most of those with Marigold when we were in high school. We’d spend hours scouring the shelves for special editions of her favorite classics.

“Sounds perfect.” Marigold’s voice is stilted. She glances at me, not realizing I’m already staring at her. She blushes and averts her gaze to her desk once more.

Each of us settle into our tasks. It’s difficult to focus when I can sense Marigold’s gaze throughout the work period. But I manage to get a little bit of writing done.

When our scheduled time is up, Paisley and Marigold hurry out to go celebrate. I take my time packing up, letting most everyone else leave before I cross the aisle to Marigold’s desk and set my copy of Julius Caesar on top of it. Then, I take one of her lavender sticky notes and write one of the more memorable quotes from the play. I hope she will see my meaning behind choosing it. If the past few months have taught me anything, it’s that we often see what we want to see. I can only hope that in my words, Marigold sees the beginnings of an apology.