Chapter Eight: Hide and Seek

She arrived at school, clutching the red rose the little girl had given her. It felt fragile in her hands, almost as though it were too precious to be real.

Lost in thought as she approached her locker, a voice suddenly interrupted her reverie. “If you leave that pretty flower in your locker, it might wilt.”

She turned quickly, startled by the sudden interruption. Standing beside her locker, leaning casually against the wall with his cap tilted low over his eyes, was the guy from the other day—the one with the ripped jeans and a carefree, almost aloof attitude. His face was hidden behind the cap, just like it had been in class, but his voice was unmistakable. It was the same guy, and yet, the more she tried to make sense of him, the more he confused her.

Before she could react, before she could even ask him what he was doing here, he pushed off the wall and, with a slight smirk on his face, disappeared into the crowd of students without another word.

Cara stood there for a moment, unsure whether she should feel unsettled or intrigued. "Was he really the guy from last time?" she muttered to herself, her brow furrowing as her mind raced. Was this the same person who had offered her his cap when she’d been dozing off in class? The one who had caught her off guard with his quiet, yet oddly thoughtful gesture? Or was it all just some strange coincidence, another surreal moment amid an already confusing day?

Her fingers tightened around the stem of the rose as her mind spun. She felt an odd, sudden urge to track him down, to figure out if he was the same guy. But then, as if a switch flipped inside her, she shook her head and dismissed the thought. Why am I so fixated on him? she wondered. I don’t even know his face.

The frustration built inside her, a mix of confusion and curiosity. Her thoughts wandered back to the man from her dreams, Mr. Smith, and the guy in the ripped jeans. They're both weird, she thought, playing hide and seek with me, aren’t they?

Her musings were abruptly interrupted when she saw Jean walking down the hallway, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. Jean raised an eyebrow when she noticed the rose in Cara’s hand. "Where’s that come from? Is there some guy hitting on you now?"

“The guy in my dream gave me this,” Cara teased, dangling the rose between them. Her voice had a playful edge, hoping to annoy Jean with her cryptic response.

Jean’s face scrunched in confusion. “I can’t believe you, dear! You’re being secretive now! Who gave you that, really?”

"A little girl from the city garden," Cara said with a shrug, "though I have a feeling it was from the guy in my dream. Maybe he's using the little girl to give it to me. So, now you believe me, huh? I might just have a secret admirer."

Jean just stood there, processing her words, looking more bewildered than ever. Cara didn’t wait for a response, instead heading to her class.

She walked into the classroom and scanned the room for the guy in the cap and ripped jeans, but he wasn’t there. A slight disappointment gnawed at her. Was he late? Or had he purposely avoided her? She sat down at the back of the classroom, her gaze lingering on the door. She had been waiting to see him, to find out more about him — but why?

Before she could question herself further, a folded piece of paper was passed to her by a classmate sitting next to her. Cara opened it quickly.

"I apologize for making you wait. You will not see me again in your class. Bye for now."

Her heart skipped a beat. “What the heck?” she muttered under her breath. Why was he speaking to her like this, as if she was desperately waiting for him? She glanced out of the window and into the hallway, but there was no sign of him.

When she asked the classmate who had passed her the note, they just shrugged and said they didn’t know where it came from. Apparently, some of the other students had insisted that the note be passed to her.

The bell rang, and Cara quickly gathered her things, rushing out of the classroom. She needed to find him, to know who was behind this cryptic message, but when she reached the hallway, he was nowhere to be seen. She checked every corner, even the Science Department floor, but it was like he had vanished into thin air.

She finally let out a frustrated sigh. “Enough of this,” she muttered to herself. “I’m not going to let him mess with me anymore.”

As she made her way down to the ground floor, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood memories of playing hide and seek with a boy she couldn’t quite remember. It was always the same game — she would search for him, but he was so good at hiding that she never found him. She’d always end up crying, and he would comfort her by coming out of his hiding spot and kissing her cheek to make her stop.

A strange thought crept into her mind: Was this some kind of hide-and-seek game again? She shook her head, dismissing it. No, this is all just in my head.

When she stepped outside the building and headed toward her car, she tried to push the thoughts from her mind, focusing on the path ahead. But the persistent question wouldn’t fade—was this all just a game?

The idea that Mr. Smith, the mysterious guy from her dreams, and the guy in the ripped jeans were both playing this game with her, pulling her into their world, filled her with confusion. She couldn’t decide if it was reality or a fantasy anymore.

As she was about to get into her car, a voice broke through her thoughts.

“Hey, what are you thinking? Maybe you’re thinking about me, circling in your head... How wonderful it is to be on your mind.”

The unreal world again, she thought, exasperated.

"Hey, Mister... whatever you are," she said aloud in her mind, “I’m just a girl trying to figure out how to stop dreaming about you. I can’t do this anymore.”

But then, something stopped her in her tracks.

“Wait,” she whispered. “I’m not dreaming. I just talked to him. I saw him with my own eyes.”

And as she turned her head to look for him again, he was gone, as if he had never been there at all.