Our Plots May Intertwine: A Soulmate AU Collection

Brown-Haired Boy

From the day her first tufts of hair sprouted from her scalp, there has always been a strand that is deep, chocolate brown -- striking, because Lauren Lopez's hair is chestnut. Although it's comforting to know that she has a soulmate -- some never find theirs -- she often wonders: did her soulmate really have to have the most common hair color ever? So Lauren spends the first ten years of her life getting her heart broken by random, mediocre guys who happen to have brown hair.

As she grows up, she notices that her brown strand smells distinctly of saltwater. It's unpleasant at first, and Lauren begins wearing it clipped up to avoid having to come into contact with it until one night when she's lying in the darkness with her hair splayed out over her pillow which is slowly being stained with silent tears. In her palm, she clutches a photo -- a school picture depicting the last in a long line of brown-haired boys to hurt her. Michael, the boy whose auburn-haired soulmate had partnered with Lauren in dissecting a fish not three months ago in biology class. She inhales deeply, trying to digest the sadness like she'd done so many times before, and with the inhale comes a whiff of the saltwater scent she had tried to hard to ignore. Tonight, however, she finds that she doesn't want to. There's no saltwater in Michigan, she reasons. Her soulmate must be a coastal kid -- maybe even LA, where she's wanted to live since the first brown-haired boy. The saltwater scent fills her nostrils once more, and she slowly drifts off to sleep, her head filled with visions of walking a dog down the LA coastline, a brown-haired boy in her stride.

She's almost glad when the scent disappears a month before she starts high school (she'd rather not keep her reputation as the girl who sniffs her hair) -- that is, she would be glad, if it hadn't been replaced by the overwhelming stench of chlorine. She figures this means that her soulmate has given up beaches for pools, and she questions his life choices.

"Maybe he's a swimmer?" Her best friend points out one afternoon as they lounge in the library.

"Fantastic," Lauren says, her voice coated in sarcasm. "A theatre kid and an athlete. That's like the plot of every bad soulmate film made in the last ten years."

Her best friend has no response. It's true that Lauren has only gotten more and more passionate about theatre. Alongside dance, she's taken up choir as a first soprano -- a rare accomplishment for a freshman -- and even managed to score a part in the fall play. It's a minor role, but still, she's bursting with excitement. Her parents might not be thrilled by the news that their daughter was dreaming of a future in theatre, but she sure was.

In the same way saltwater had quickly become one of her favorite smells, she learns to love the stripe of brown hair that constantly smells like the local swimming pool. She's especially thrilled when her mom finally gives in, letting her die her hair a striking shade of blonde, a do that leaves her roots the exact same color as her soulmate's strand. She sometimes giggles at inappropriate times, imagining a disgruntled teenage boy, a popular kid, cool among the athletes, waking up one day to find a golden lock of hair where there would normally be chestnut.

So it goes for the rest of Lauren's high school career. She graduates, having committed to the University of Michigan for her theatre degree, and when it's time for her to receive her diploma, the only strand of hair she lets slip from her cap is the brown one.

The fall comes, and with it, the promise of a fresh start and a chance to pursue her passion at the University of Michigan. She moves into her dorm and immediately kicks it off with her roommate, Julia. She joins way too many social groups and aces her theatre history course. All of this is thrilling, but what really excites her is the possibility of meeting her soulmate at this new, exciting place. So many people -- her parents included -- met their partners in college. Why should she be any different?