Chapter 4: The Wild Goose Chase

And so, I left for five years.

Some people didn’t understand: “Just because she called someone else’s name?”

I just nodded. “Yes. Just because she called someone else’s name.”

Maybe chasing Rachel was the longest wild goose chase I ever signed up for.

Freshman year, there was a campus club mixer—that’s how I met her.

The student center was packed—pizza grease on every napkin, club flyers littering the floor, and someone butchering Bon Jovi on the karaoke mic. Rachel walked in, sunlight in her hair even under the fluorescent lights, and I swear every guy in the room noticed.

You could say it was love at first sight for me.

There was always a guy by her side: Caleb Johnson, her childhood friend.

I knew all too well what 'childhood friend' meant in a girl’s heart, so I didn’t dare approach rashly.

But she was the one who started talking to me.

To be honest, I was flattered.

I even wondered: Did I leave a unique impression on her? Was there... still a chance for me?

That day, I chatted with Rachel for a long time.

But most of the time, she talked about Caleb.

So much so that, even though I barely knew Rachel, I ended up knowing a lot about Caleb Johnson.

She told me they’d grown up together, their families were close, and even before they were born, their moms joked about them ending up together someday.

Caleb was always lively, a bit of a troublemaker, always teasing her and making fun of her.

“Everyone says we’re a good match, that he likes me, but I don’t like him at all.”

Rachel sat beside me, quietly complaining.

She stirred her Sprite with a straw, her shoulders tense as she glanced across the room at Caleb laughing with his friends.

“You don’t like him?” I asked.

“No. I don’t. Who would like him? A guy like that—not even my worst enemy would crush on that guy.”

Rachel pouted.

“Really? What if he chased after you?”

“Even if he did, I wouldn’t say yes. I told you, I don’t have feelings for him.”

So, she didn’t like him?

“What about me?” I asked directly.

Rachel stared at me wide-eyed, blinked, and then hurriedly ran away.

“I, I, I... I’ll tell you in a few days.”

Her retreat left me standing there, clutching my club pamphlet, feeling both foolish and hopeful—like a kid holding his breath before jumping off the diving board.