Part 3Sunshine After The Rain

I had been in love with Chase for five years.

He had probably forgotten, but our very first meeting had been during our freshman year of high school. I had just moved to the big city prep school from a tiny, rural middle school, feeling completely out of place.

During the opening ceremony, Chase had stood on the stage as the student representative. Even in the plain school uniform, he looked incredibly handsome and bright.

I had been standing at the very back of the crowd, but his clear, confident voice had cut through the chatter of the students and the rustling wind, settling deep into my heart.

Perhaps the weather and the light had just been too perfect that day, but love had found me in an instant.

Of course, I knew we belonged to different worlds. Chase was the golden boy, beloved by everyone. I was just a quiet, plain girl from the countryside. I kept my crush tucked away, using it as a sweet secret to bring a little color to my ordinary life.

Our only actual interaction in high school had happened on a rainy evening during junior year.

Most of the students had parents picking them up. My parents were working in another province, and my elderly grandmother had bad knees and couldn't walk in the rain, so I was left waiting alone in the lobby.

Watching the torrential downpour, I braced myself, wrapping my backpack over my head, preparing to dash into the storm.

Suddenly, a hand caught my shoulder, and a heavy umbrella was shoved into my grip.

When the umbrella shifted, Chase was standing there. He gave me a bright, easy grin and winked.

"Girls shouldn't walk in the rain."

With that, he dashed out into the storm, letting the water soak through his jacket. I shouted a thank you after him, but he didn't turn back, simply waving a hand over his shoulder as he disappeared into the grey sheet of water.

That rainy day, and the frantic drumming of my heart, had stayed with me all the way to college.

But now, the storm had finally cleared.

I had never harbored any grand illusions about us, until I crossed paths with Manon again in university.

Manon had been my best friend in elementary school before her parents divorced and she moved to the city. Reuniting on campus felt like a miracle.

She was a dance major, gorgeous and graceful, while I studied literature. Despite the years apart, our friendship was as strong as ever, and she remained just as beautiful as she had been as a child.

She spent a lot of time with me, and she was the one who noticed how I looked at Chase when he played basketball. She told me I was terrible at hiding my feelings.

I insisted that watching him from afar was enough, but Manon pushed me to be brave. "Life is short, Hazel. You have to go after what you want."

She eventually volunteered to get his number for me, pointing out that she was planning to ask Nate for his number anyway, so she might as well ask for both.

I should have said no. But greed got the better of me, and I agreed.

When Manon walked onto the basketball court, every eye in the stands followed her. She was a natural head-turner. I should have realized then that anyone would look at her first.

I had been so nervous my chest felt tight, terrified Chase would reject her.

From my seat in the stands, I saw Manon point in my direction. I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning, but managed to peek back just in time to see Chase smile and nod, handing over his phone.

I felt like I had won the lottery.

The days that followed had been so sweet, so effortless, as we quickly fell into an online relationship. But eventually, the clock struck midnight, and Cinderella was sent back to her reality.

On our double date, I had watched Chase stand up with a massive bouquet of blue bells, my favorite flowers. He had smiled, walking straight past me, and taken Manon's hand.

I missed you, baby.

That was the moment I realized the last three months had been a stolen dream. The basketball court had been too loud that day, and Chase had assumed the gorgeous girl asking for his number wanted it for herself.

If only I had been a little braver. If only I had stood in front of him myself, even if it meant being rejected. It would have been better than this humiliating mess.