Chapter 7: Chase’s Secret—The Boy Who Waited

Extra (Chase’s POV):

Back in senior year, homeroom teacher Mr. Anderson called me to his office for another lecture. As usual, I took the teacher’s elevator upstairs. I happened to run into the quiet class rep for English. She was carrying a huge stack of homework, planning to climb all eight floors. Silly girl. I couldn’t even remember her name.

"Hey, Molly… Molly what again?"

"Molly Evans."

She stopped, struggling to turn and answer. Her voice was soft, and sweat beaded on her forehead. "What’s up?"

"You’re gonna walk up?"

"Mm."

Forget it—these goody-goodies never think outside the box. "I’ll help you."

She tried to refuse, but I just took the homework from her. The elevator arrived and I walked right in. She hurried after me, worried. "What if we get caught and get in trouble?"

"You worry too much."

The elevator rose and stopped on the sixth floor with a loud bang. It wouldn’t move. Instantly, she pressed every floor and the emergency call button. The lights flickered. My claustrophobia kicked in—I slid down the wall, shaking. The next second, something warm covered my eyes. "Don’t be scared. It’s okay. Someone will come soon." Her hand was warm and steady, and her voice was the only thing that cut through the panic. I gripped her hand tightly and slowly calmed down.

After we were rescued, I tried to find her to apologize. "Don’t worry, Chase. I promise I won’t tell anyone what happened in the elevator." She ran off before I could say anything. Funny little thing.

Over time, I realized Molly never changes her pace or choices for anyone. She seems soft, but she’s resolute. Out of dozens of cats, she picked the least friendly and spoiled it. No matter how many times the menu changed at the little diner, she always ordered the same mac and cheese.

If I wanted to change how she saw me, I couldn’t push. I had to wait for her to figure out her own feelings.

When the doctor mentioned "ectopic pregnancy," I felt like I’d plunged into an ice bath. I contacted all her friends and old classmates, but got nowhere. That night, I smoked who knows how many cigarettes on the balcony. Because I knew—if she really picked someone else, I’d never have another chance.

I want to be like that cat—chosen by her, no matter what. She doesn’t have to change for me. I can step into her world myself.