Page 75 of Campus Fake

And frankly, seeing my sister chase her impossible dreams had made me feel a little reckless. I knew Sam wanted to stay in Montana, and it was my preferred choice as well. But what did that look like?

I knew what I wanted it to look like. But cooking wasn’t exactly a prestigious endeavor as far as Gordons were concerned, not unless I was running a New York restaurant with Michelin stars. But I didn’t really care about those things. I wanted to make good food and feed the people I loved. Anything else just seemed like a cherry on top.

“They aren’t speaking to me,” she said, her voice so low I almost didn’t catch the words.

“Excuse me?” I had to have misheard her.

She stared at her coffee cup like it could give her strength before finally meeting my gaze. Her chin lifted—that same stubborn tilt I’d seen in the hockey house when she’d told me she was starting an NFL franchise.

“They’re not speaking to me. They’ve decided I’m being unreasonable and until I come to my senses, they want nothing to do with me. They claim my actions are threatening to tarnish their good name.”

My hand tightened around my cup.

I didn’t love our parents the way most kids loved theirs, and while I certainly had no desire to work for them, Viv had always tried to please them. She had always worked hard to meet their expectations so they would see her for who she was. I couldn’t imagine the blow it was to her to know they could so easily wash their hands clean of her.

“How are you doing with that?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Well, it stings. To know I’ve been the ‘good girl’ my whole life and always did what I was supposed to do. I followed the path laid out before me like some yellow brick road. I went to the college they chose and picked the major they chose for me and dated the guys they wanted me to date. And none of it was ever enough.” Her humorless smile fell, and she vacantly stared beyond me like it was all crashing down on her at once. “It was never going to be enough,” she said. “And that feels both devastating and a little bit freeing.” Her eyes watered but she still held her chin high.

“Freeing, how?” I was truly curious, especially now that I was starting to consider my own freedom from the Gordon future.

“Well, for the first time in my life I’ve actually started asking myself what I want, and the truth is, I don’t know. I’m almost twenty-seven and feel like I’m embarking on a journey of self-discovery. I thought that was supposed to be what college was for, but apparently not. And it’s a little bit exhilarating and equal parts terrifying, but I know that every choice moving forward will be my own. Every risk I take, I’ll take for me. And that is truly liberating. I’m not working for anyone else. I’m not trying to appease anyone else. I’m basically giving a middle finger to the Gordon name at this point.”

She huffed out another laugh and took another sip of her coffee before nibbling her lip. “Do you ever wonder what our life would be like if we hadn’t been raised as Gordons?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” I answered. “I know we have a lot of privilege and money which has allowed us a lot of freedoms most people don’t have.” But that was a different kind of freedom. It was financial freedom, but as far as Gordons went, it had always come with a lot of strings.

Viv leaned back against her chair, her fingers toying with the edge of her coffee cup. Her gaze was pondering, like she’d been thinking about this for a while and was just now finding the words to explain it.

“I’m wondering what it would be like to know you’re loved. I mean, through this whole experience—this whole franchising and, you know, building the stadium and the fight with Mom and Dad—I’m just… I’m realizing that I don’t know what that feels like. I don’t remember ever hearing them tell us they loved us. I don’t even know if our parents are capable of love, especially the kind of love we see in movies, or in our friends—with your friends in particular.” She gestured to me. “I mean, most of my friends I hardly speak to anymore because I’m not going to any social engagements, and even when I did, I mean, those were all essentially mergers and acquisitions, not love matches. Which sounds ancient and historical but is very much alive and well in the upper crusts of society. I don’t want that.”

She paused long enough to take a breath, and I watched her throat bob as she swallowed. Her composure was holding, but barely—like a wall with hairline fractures that she was willing to stay upright through sheer force of habit.

“You know, being around your friends, even though you guys are younger—you’ve seemed so much smarter. Like you’ve chosen what’s important. You’ve found your own family. You’ve made it. You didn’t just accept the one that was given to you by blood. And on top of that, you found people that are your perfect other half, that make you light up.” Her eyes locked on to mine and her voice softened. “I mean, look at you, Harrison. I’ve never in my life seen you as happy as you are with Sam and surrounded by your friends. When you’re playing hockey, yes, but now you smile even when you’re off the ice. You seem lighter, and I want that for you. I love that for you. But I want it too.”

Warmth spread through my chest at Sam’s name, and I couldn’t stop the half smile that pulled at the corner of my mouth. Viv wasn’t wrong. I was lighter. Sam had made everything in my life better.

Viv’s eyes were bright now, her voice gaining speed like she’d been carrying all of this alone for too long. “I want to be loved. I want to explore and adventure and find my person who believes in me doing these crazy big things even when no one else seems to. Is that insane?”

“Not in the slightest.” I didn’t even hesitate with my answer.

Everyone deserved that kind of love.

And while she didn’t have it now, I had no doubt she would in the future. My sister deserved love and happiness, and I knew she would never settle for less. I had to believe her other half was out there waiting for her.

She took another sip of her coffee and I watched her pull herself back together—shoulders squaring, posture straightening, the composed version of Vivienne Gordon sliding back into place. “Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Graduation is in a couple of months. Are you going back East? Or are you going to stay here?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

“I don’t want to go back East,” I told her.

Her lips quirked in a smile. “So are you going to become a chef, then?”

I huffed a laugh. “You sound as bad as the guys and Sam.”

“Well, why not? You’re good at it. Why not be a chef and chase your passion?”

There was no good answer for why I couldn’t, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to. It just had never felt like a possibility. But I was starting to think that with each passing day, more and more was becoming possible. I had the woman of my dreams. My sister was going off on her own and breaking away from the Gordon name. I’d always pushed against Gordon Holdings, preferring hanging out with Pop or cooking in the kitchen.