The next morning, Max is a little concerned when Marigold never comes out of the house. She never asks for a ride, and she never shows up at the front of the school.

She decides to try to ignore it by asking Lucas about the whole Will situation that went down.

He ends up explaining an entire story, and it sounds totally bogus!

"Is Marigold okay?" Lucas switches the topic. "Isn't she usually here by now? You don't think she...stayed home after last night, right?"

"She seemed really upset," Max frowns. "I've never seen her upset. By the way, don't call her that."

"Call her what?" Lucas questions just as the bell rings.

"Marigold. Don't call her Marigold," she explains as they walk into the class room.

Lucas only seems more confused, watching as she takes her seat. Mike and Will are already sat in the classroom, watching the two interact and listening closely.

"But...that's her name?" Lucas confusedly states.

"She prefers Goldie," Max hums.

"Well not everyone gets what they prefer," Mike grumbles. "For example, I wish she never came last night, but she did."

Max seems infuriated by his selfish statement, but makes a statement that makes them all tremble.

"Why doesn't she like her own name?" Lucas can't help but inquire.

"Because her dad gave it to her," Max growls, forcing them to drop the subject.

The boys turn to face forward in their seats, left confused by her statement. Did Marigold not like her dad? If she doesn't, why not? Is her dad still in the picture? Where even is she?

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, getting a bad feeling about whoever her dad is.

He gets an even worse feeling when he realizes that he's beginning to feel bad for talking down on the girl. Why does he even really hate her? All she's doing is trying to be his friend.

He shakes his head, getting back into focus as Mr. Clarke begins his lesson.

Meanwhile, Marigold is very slowly making her way to the school, kicking pebbles and what not while the wind blows against her back. It's true that she feels hurt about last night, but she isn't sure whether it's because of Mike's sour mood or the memories from her past resurfacing.

Whatever it was, Goldie just hasn't found herself feeling as bright and cheery as she normally might be.

Maybe she's just being dramatic. After all, it's only been a day since she's been in a sad stupor.

As the school comes into view, she notices just how empty the lot seems to be. Clearly, she's very late to class, and wonders if she should even bothering going to first period.

"Nah," she shrugs, taking her time to get to the school.

By the time she gets there, second period has begun and the hallways crowd with kids at their lockers or trying to get to their classes. Goldie keeps her eyes on her own locker, cracking it open as soon as she reaches it.

The mirror hanging inside reveals her tired eyes and the ugly bandaid on her forehead.

She takes her time to pull out the things she needs for next period, and then she just stands there. She stares at herself in the mirror for a little before finally closing the locker.

Yet again, much to her surprise, Mike is stood on the other side of the door. She gasps in surprise, holding her chest while her heart beats rapidly.

"Jesus," she grumbles. "You ever think to, maybe, I don't know, announce your presence?"

"Sorry," Mike apologizes. "I just– um, I—"

He struggles to get the correct words out, growing unexpectedly nervous under the girl's questioning stare. She's much shorter than him, holding her books up against her chest and tilting her head up at him.

"You what?" She softly asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Her eyes are really pretty, and he doesn't know if it's just the angle he's seeing them in, or if it's because he's never noticed them before.

"You weren't in first period," he points out, glancing away from her. "Anyway, I wanted to say sorry....for, you know, making you hit your head. Although, I don't see how it's really my fault for your clumsiness— I mean, I barely tapped you!"

She giggles at his words, looking past his attempt at being rude, and concentrating on the fact that he's trying to apologize.

She can work with that.

A wide smile glides across her features, and she raises a brow at him. Her giggles catch his attention immediately, and he finds himself caught up in that sparkle in her eyes.

"Are you trying to be soft with me?" She quietly questions. "I think that's very sweet, Mike. I'm not mad at you, I never was. I just...I remembered why I never really liked Halloween."

A blush coats the boy's cheeks at her praise, and he hates to admit how good it feels to have her appreciate him.

He immediately goes back to being a jerk when he glimpses into a memory of Eleven.

"Yeah, well, whatever," He mutters, turning away. "I just thought you should know it was an accident. I'll see you around."

"Is that an invite? Are you saying we'll hang out in the future?" She giggles.

"I hope not," He grumbles back before walking off completely.

He really is mean, but she can't help but see past that. Pain is often translated into anger, so whatever reason he has for being so rude, she knows it must be a good one.

That's the good thing about Goldie. She chooses to see the good in people.

She truly is golden.