It was the third time this week that it happened.
Gaige stared at his reflection before him, holding a cotton ball underneath one of his nostrils. The cotton had already lost its white as it soaked up the trickling blood from his nose, a sight that made his blood slightly boil. If the people around him didn't know better, they'd say that he'd been in another fight.
But the truth was that he hadn't even gotten into a single fight since the week began. Even if the bruises on his cheek and leg, the cuts on his arms, and, now, his bleeding nose said otherwise.
The truth was that this was all of his soulmate's fault.
— ❦
It began on Monday morning.
Gaige had always thought of Monday as a synonym for hell. He hated having to get up to hit the alarm before it woke up the whole house. He hated having to drag his ass out of bed when there was no other place he'd rather be. But there was that thing they called school and that person he called his mother, who would storm to his room if she realized that he was prolonging his stay in bed.
So he dragged his ass out of bed and did his best to keep his balance while he made a beeline for the bathroom. His reflection had never been a pretty sight during Monday mornings so he wasn't really surprised of the bruise he spotted on his left leg when he dressed out of his clothes to get in the shower. What the bruise actually meant didn't really occur to him until his third class, during Physical Education, when he and the other boys in his class were required to do yoga separately from the girls.
He recalled going to bed early during the previous night. He hit the hay at exactly nine o'clock, when he decided that he'd rather not have any regrets in the morning when Dennis had asked him to join him in watching one last movie. He recalled that the last time he had stayed up late was last month, when he had a Drafting project that had to be passed the next day. He didn't recall having any iron deficiency diseases, or whatever you called them, that could be the reason behind the coin-sized bruise on his leg.
"It's gotta be your soulmate," Tristan told him after their P.E. class. He realized that the thought had never occurred to him until now.
He pressed the bruise and was actually surprised when it hurt. "Idiot," Tristan muttered. Gaige shook it off as his soulmate simply either being the one with the iron deficiency disease or getting hit by something hard in the leg.
— ❦
He caused a commotion on Tuesday afternoon.
Gaige and his class had been taking an exam in Math when it happened. He let out a yelp of pain before he dropped the scientific calculator he held in one hand.
He wasn't sure what stung more — the stares he garnered from each and every one of his classmates, or the three scratches he not-so-mysteriously gained on his right arm.
He quickly excused himself to use the restroom after that. In a rare occurrence, his teacher actually let him go without letting him hand in his test paper first. When he reached the restroom, Gaige was horrified when he saw the angry scratches marring his skin.
Luckily, the incident occurred during his last class. He didn't have to bear any of the looks and questions he'd get from his schoolmates when they'd see the new wounds, as he had rushed to get home the moment his Math teacher ended their class.
Arriving home became another matter, however. Gaige swore his mother could've fainted at the sight of the red scratches on her son's arm, until she began to scold him for his stupidity for messing with a cat.
Gaige said he never picked on a cat, be it their neighbor's tabby one or the stray that lingered on the next street. He explained that if there was someone who messed with a cat, it had to be his soulmate.
"Oh," his mother simply replied.
"How'd you know they're cat scratches?" Gaige asked.
"Your father got wounds just like that when he was younger," she answered with a fond smile, her hand absently rubbing her left arm.
— ❦
Mercifully, Wednesday passed without any incidents.
Gaige was thankful for this since it was the same day that he was supposed to present a slideshow along with Tristan and Aiko in front of their class. It was English period, and Mr. Andal was patiently waiting for them to set up their presentation.
Once they were set, he gave them the go signal to begin.
Their presentation had gone flawlessly but most of the credit had to go to Tristan, whom Gaige recognized as one of the best speakers their class. As the classroom rippled with thunderous applause and shouts of delight, Gaige found himself unable to remove his gaze from Tristan. He stood proudly in front of the class with a thin smile on his lips while Aiko gave an exaggerated bow by his side.
A fleeting thought crossed Gaige's mind. He remembered wishing on more than one occasion that Tristan would bear the same marks that his body began to bear since the week started.
But alas, Tristan was not only known for his ability as an adept orator but also for his conduct record which had always been spotless since day one.
And if there was something that Gaige had grown aware of, it was that his soulmate was the kind to cause trouble.
— ❦
Today was Thursday.
For the past ten minutes, Gaige was unceasing in his complaints. He shamelessly swore at his bruised and bleeding reflection. He was just having the best luck the entire week. And it wasn't even Friday yet.
As he dropped the bloodied cotton into the bin, along with the growing pile inside it, Gaige recalled the last time he'd received an injury, beyond the bruise on his leg that he discovered last Monday morning. As he examined his red nose in the mirror, an old wound came to mind. Three months ago, he'd gotten a small cut on his thumb. As much as it stung, he knew that it was only from a paper cut — and not from his side. Beyond that, Gaige had always only received the smallest injuries for as long as he could remember. There were never bruises or long scratches until now.
Not for the first time, Gaige wondered what the hell his soulmate was getting into these past few days.
Once he realized that his nose was no longer bleeding, much to his relief, Gaige exited the restroom within the clinic. His nose was still red and his left cheek throbbed with the bruise on it but there was nothing he could do about those. Resigned, Gaige approached the nurse at her desk, her askew glasses making her seem older than she looked.
"Get into a fight?" she asked kindly, sliding over to him the clipboard on her desk.
"Not me," Gaige huffed, signing his name and the time on the papers before him. The pen in his hand jolted in fright when the clinic's door slammed open with a bang.
Gaige gritted his teeth, gripping the pen tightly in his hand as he finished writing. The stranger in the doorway was breathing raggedly.
"Nathan! What are you doing here?" The school nurse stood up from her desk as she turned to the stranger. At this, Gaige finally lifted his eyes from the clipboard before him and his gaze landed at the newcomer.
Leaning against one side of the doorway was a boy no older than Gaige was. His hair was a mess of tangled locks and he had a varsity jacket wrapped around his waist. He looked exhausted, as he tried to catch his breath as the nurse approached him, but his eyes shone with unabashed satisfaction. But it was not the lopsided smile on his lips that caught Gaige's attention — well, his grin did catch Gaige's attention, but it was not the sight of it that made Gaige's heart stutter.
Gaige tried not to choke on air when his eyes caught the unmistakable trail of blood from the boy's nose and the growing bruise on his left cheek.
"Why do you keep getting into fights nowadays?" the nurse demanded in a shrill tone.
"Nell, don't tell Ma," the boy chuckled in reply as she took in his disheveled appearance. The school nurse turned away from the boy with an exasperated groan before she went to gather some cotton balls from a far shelf.
Gaige's heart skipped a beat when the boy in the doorway met his stare. His heart stopped altogether when he saw recognition reflect in the boy's eyes at the same second his smile widened. The boy straightened against the doorway as he began to take lazy steps towards Gaige in long, even strides.
Gaige felt the bruise on his cheek throb once more when the boy stopped in front of him. The crooked smile never left his lips though it now held a hint of embarrassment.
"Hey. I think I owe you an apology or two," the boy said.
— ❦
Inspired by a post from Tumblr user jensendaddy.