Running from the Golden Cage

Sierra’s Standpoint

My heart hit hard; I felt it might break out of my chest. The dark sky was big above me, the moon's light soft. It was like the world was making fun of me when I could do nothing.

Each breath hurt my lungs, yet I could not stop. This was what I had to pay to be free.

"Miss Langston!" a mad voice yelled from back there. "Your dad wants you home!"

I ran faster, my legs hurt, my lungs tight.

For nineteen years, I was the good girl of rich man Charles Langston the top girl of the Langston Group. Made to listen, to smile, to sit still and wed the man he picked.

But why? To be given away like a thing to some mean boss I’d never seen? To a man I did not love?

"I won’t go back," I said low to myself, the words making the burn inside me grow. "Not this time."

I saw the end of the city. Just a few more streets, and I'd blend into the sea of people. My dad couldn't get me not now.

Being the only kid of Charles Langston meant he'd keep up the chase. But I just needed time. Time to hide, time to start fresh and live by my rules.

The shouts behind me went soft. His men were strong, yet I was quick. No one saw it coming the rich girl beating pro guards. I’d planned this well.

I shot into a tight path and sank behind a trash bin, gasping for air. My fancy dress ripped, shoes gone. I had a bag, some money, and a fake ID.

"We made it," I breathed out, hope creeping in.

I pulled out a small bag I hid for weeks extra money, mom's necklace, and a faked card.

Now, I was Sierra Blake.

I thought back to that night at dinner. The night my dad laid it out.

"You'll wed Damien Holt next month," he said, not even looking at me as he ate.

My heart sank. Damien Holt a big boss, harsh, strong, much older than me.

"But dad,” I stammered, “I don't know him. What about love? Choice?"

He looked up slow, his eyes cold.

"Love?" he scoffed. “This isn't some tale, Sierra. Love doesn't make giants. Plans do. Being loyal does. And you'll play your part."

I recall the tightness, the burn in my throat.

He was once kind—before our firm almost failed years ago. Before losing my brother in that tragic yacht blow-up that shook us all. Since then, he turned hard. Cold. Without feeling.

So I smiled, gave a nod, and made like I was okay with it.

Then I took off.

Now, here I was, in front of Crestmont University, a spot no one would think to look for a rich girl. A spot where I could make a new start.

I looked all around, wide-eyed. No one knelt. No guards stood by. No cameras chased me. Just kids living their day.

"This is wild," I let out, almost with a laugh.

"Pretty, huh?"

I turned quick, shocked by the voice back of me.

A tall kid with wild brown hair and an easy grin was there.

"Who are you?" I shot back, guard up.

He put his hands up, joking. "Easy. Just being nice. Nervous on your first day?"

I just frowned, silent.

"I’m Jaxon," he went on, not put off. “Just came over from Havenridge Business School. You?”

"Transfer kid," I said low, turning away.

He kept up with me as if we were pals. “Crestmont’s hard, but you’ll like it. They say the Business Ethics class is run by the most feared guy.”

I looked at him. "Feared?"

"Professor Damon Cross," he said, playing it up. "The man’s a tale. Used to lead big funds and save dead firms in his sleep. Word is, he left a billion-dollar empire to teach.”

A cold feel hit me at the name. I didn't know the why.

"What's he like?" I asked.

Jaxon just shrugged.

"Don't know. Just got tales. My cousin says he's tough but fair. Hard but smart. Made this school new after a big bad almost shut it down."

I kept on moving, the fake ID firm in my hand. I was not Sierra Langston now. I was not just a tool.

I was Sierra Blake. Now, I would write my own story.

I thought about if Jaxon knew what I was thinking. I shook my head a bit, to clear the thought.

"It can't be," I said with a smile that did not mean joy.

"Pardon?" he asked, his eyes wide wanting to know more.

"It's nothing," I said with a shrug.

If Crestmont held even some of the dark things Jaxon spoke of, then this place might be more of a risk than the one I left.

Fight over work… secret wrecking of deals… big deals hidden by college walls. A fight like that had broken my family. It took my brother. It took my calm.

"I think about what part this secret Prof Cross had in all that," I said to myself.

"It's sure to be more than we can think," Jaxon said, even though I did not talk to him.

I pulled at my new clothes just jeans and a sweater I got in town. I felt odd, too simple and too much at the same time.

As a Langston, I’d never worn anything easy. These felt odd… but in a way, freeing.

"So old-time," I said low, annoyed at my dad’s tight rules.

Jaxon gave me a quick look, like I was weird, but he stayed.

"Know where to sign up?" I asked him.

He pointed, silent.

"Thanks," I nodded as I walked off.

"See ya," Jaxon's voice came from behind me as I headed to the main admin place. I smiled a bit, more from nerves than being nice.

The admin place was sharp and new, with glass walls and steel bars. It felt more like a business than a school. Inside, the air was cool and sharp, filled with soft buzz and the odd beep of code readers.

I saw a touch-screen in the corner. Self-Sign up.

I let out a breath. No hard questions, no odd looks. Thank God.

I went up to the screen, took out my fake ID, and scanned it. My name, Sierra Blake, showed up. I rushed through the steps, picking my study Finance and where I'd stay.

"Wrong profile info," the screen showed in big red words.

I stopped breathing.

I tried again. And again. Same error.

Great. This was a mess. I looked around and saw a help desk far on the side. A young woman in a dark blue shirt was there, chewing and on her phone.

I took a deep breath and went over.

"Excuse me," I kept my voice nice. "There's a problem with signing up. It won’t take my ID."

She looked up slow, eyeing me like I did something bad. "Name?"

"Sierra Blake."

Her fingers flew over the keys, her gum popping loud. She raised her eyebrows.

"You gave your papers, but you didn’t get the final okay. That's why there’s a flag on your file. You need to check in with a staff boss."

"Where?" I asked fast.

She nodded toward an office with Academic Affairs on the door.

"Down there. Third door on the left. See Ms. Carlton. If she's in a bad mood, good luck."

I gave a low thank you and sped down the hall. As I got to the office, the door was ajar, and a sharp woman in a tight jacket tapped fast at a keyboard.

"Hi, I—" I started.

"Name and what's wrong," she snapped.

"Sierra Blake. There's a glitch with my sign up proof."

She nodded without really seeing me. "That’s usual for kids who sign up with an external backer. Have a seat."

Third-party backers? That had to be the lie set up with my false papers. I sat down and hid my worry as she clicked away in silence for a bit.

Then she breathed out. "All set. I okayed your file. Welcome to Crestmont."

"Thank you," I whispered, the stress breaking my voice a bit.

"Hold the thanks," she said, her eyes still on her screen. "Your first week here, you'll find your groove—or wish you had stayed away."

As I stepped out with my new ID and lanyard, a mix of feelings washed over me. Ease. Dread. Hope.

Suddenly, a buzz of action filled the hall as students rushed by.

I stopped a tall blonde girl with a Crestmont logo. "What's going on?"

"Orientation!" she puffed, out of breath. "You can't be late. Professor Cross is strict with time. He's kicked out three for being late on the first day."

I felt a drop in my stomach. "Really?"

"Very true," she nodded. "Let's go. Oh, I'm Riley."

"Sierra."

We joined the flow of students.

“He's kind of a star here,” Riley panted as we pushed to the meeting hall. “Smart, cold, and scary on time.”

I rolled my eyes but my heart sped up. “Sounds like my dad.”

“Oh sweetie,” she smiled. “He makes every dad seem like Santa.”