Soulmate

When I was in sixth grade blood gushed from my nose and an unexplained force flung me out of my desk. The teacher, annoyed at the disruption of his class, sent me to the school nurse. The nurse, after halting the blood flow, sent me home. The next day I arrived at school with an ugly black bruise that blossomed across my face. Bruises had appeared on me before, but none so big and obvious as that one. No one said anything to me about it, everyone knew why it was there - or at least, they had theories.

My first day of high school ended with a trip to the emergency room. I collapsed in the cafeteria, my stomach twisting in pain. Someone called an ambulance and I was rushed into emergency surgery. Ruptured spleen the doctor said. They told me I was lucky to be alive. And that my other half was too. I spent a week in the hospital before I was allowed to go home.

On my seventeenth birthday, my friends took me to the movies. On the way home we stopped to get food and suddenly I couldn't breathe. My other half was dying, and I was dying with them. My friends began to panic, but they couldn't do anything. Everyone knew how it worked. What happened to one soulmate happened to the other. I had seen this coming. The bruises showing up more and more often, the pain never really fading. Whatever hell my other half lived for the past seventeen years was finally catching up to them -- and they were taking me down with them.

But then abruptly I could breathe again.

The next day I woke up with a scar across my chest. On the news they reported the death of the elementary school's principal. She had died during a PTA meeting, half her face exploding during her speech. It caused quite the commotion. Reporters said it looked like a gunshot wound even though there had been no shooter, no sound, and no bullet found. They concluded her soulmate had died by gunshot. It was talked about for months afterward and strengthened the government's laws against violence. They argued that if you hurt one person, you actually hurt two because of the soulmate bond. Schools required students be taught about soulmates and their connection to each other.

After I almost died, I stopped getting bruises. I stopped waking up with aching bones. I was able to sleep peacefully again. My other half had escaped and I was grateful.

In the summer of my nineteenth year, I moved from my little town to a bigger city and soon after received a letter. It was from an unknown person requesting to meet me. They said they felt they owed me an explanation for seventeen years of pain and they wanted to apologize. I was reluctant at first, the return address was from the east side of the city and from a stranger. But how could I resist - no one except my parents and close friends knew how bad the soulmate bond affected me.

~~~~~--*--~~~~~

The government estimated that approximately 65% of the population never found their soulmates - most didn't even bother looking. I didn't know what my soulmate looked like, or even their name for that matter, but the closer I got to the Starbucks the more I felt an invisible pull. Is this what it felt like when soulmates were near each other?

          The delicious aroma of coffee surrounded me as I walked into the Starbucks and the barista looked up and smiled. I looked around at the people sitting at the tables and on the couches. No one in particular caught my eye.

"What can I get you?" The barista asked me as I approached the counter. I glanced at the menu above her and grimaced, there were too many things to choose from and I had never been fond of sweets.

"Can I just get an iced coffee, please? With cream and no sugar."

"Of course," she said, "name?"

"Ben"

"Alright. Your order will be ready in a few minutes!" She turned and asked her coworker for the cream as he finished making another coffee for someone else.

I looked at their assortment of coffee beans, I'd always liked the smell of coffee - it reminded me of home. My father would frequently bring home different kinds to try, even if he hadn't yet finished off the previous batch. The task of doing so was left to my mother and I. I suppose my early consumption of the drink was directly related to my short height, though my mother told me I was still growing, I was pretty sure I'd stopped.

I glanced up from the coffee mugs when the barista shouted "Ben" and walked over to the counter as her coworker placed a frappuccino down and called out "Charles."

"Thanks," I said as I grabbed my drink. The barista flashed me a grin and nodded her head. The unclaimed frappuccino still sat on the counter when I heard a crash from behind me. I spun around to witness - the poor man I assumed was "Charles," bump into the display of coffee and cause it to fall with him to the floor. The Starbucks went silent as everyone in it looked at the guy sprawled on the floor surrounded by packaged coffee.

Someone in the corner attempted to stifle their laughter and "Charles" hung his head in shame.

"Uh, are you ok?" I asked. The barista came out from behind the counter and began to help him pick up the coffee.

         Without looking at me he nodded and whispered "I'm sorry" to the barista. She smiled, "It's fine, at least none of the bags broke!" She stood the display stand upright and began to replace the bags. I grabbed a couple of bags and handed them to her.

"Let me guess, Charles?" I stuck out my hand to help him up, "Your drink is ready." I chuckled when the tension left his shoulders and he smiled.

"Yeah," he said as he grabbed my hand and looked up at me.

The world stopped the moment we locked eyes.

My grin faltered as I looked at him and a tingling sensation ran from where we grasped hands up through my arm. It was as if everything was in slow motion, I vaguely registered my coffee falling to the floor and splashing out on the tiled floor. The barista covered her mouth and backed up a few steps saying something about... It didn't matter, all I could focus on was the pair of eyes locked with mine. Honey colored, amber, it was as if the stars danced in them.

          I felt something wet run down my cheek and realized I was crying. This man was my soulmate, MY soulmate. Everyone I had ever been attracted to paled in comparison to him. It was only ever him.

I helped him up off the floor and he grabbed my other hand.

"Hi." He said, tilting his head to the side and smiling brighter than the sun.

"Hi." I squeaked back.