𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚑 [𝚔. 𝚋𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚐𝚘𝚞 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛] [𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚞]

𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎

𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚃.𝚅. -- 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜

𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕. 𝙽𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

I'd like to say I'm smart. I'm very smart, in fact. I've always been top of my class, straight A's, high grades, and excelling in all of my classes. I tutor my classmates for some extra cash on top of my allowance, and I volunteer at the local preschool to help teach some of the younger children. I can recite the entirety of the dictionary, both English and Japanese, and I can speak four languages.

But on top of all of this, there's only one thing in this world I don't understand:

Love.

I don't get what the hype is. And before you come at me, yes, I have dated in the past. I've had a few boyfriends here and there, but I've never felt...love. They were fun while it lasted, but I never had that feeling. My mother has described it to me before, but it's just never clicked with me.

In the world that we live in, two people are bound together as soulmates. Some believe this was because of Zeus, in Greek mythology; people were originally born as one whole person, but after Zeus separated them, the people spent their entire lives searching for their other half.

Personally, I don't really believe in the whole soulmate thing. Sure, it works for other people, like my parents for instance. My mother and father are the cutest couple you'll ever come across, and it's very obvious that they were meant for each other. My mother is on the wild side, always getting into trouble and making schemes, and my father is the calm one, pulling her from trouble and always supporting her.

Just....me? Yeah, I don't think it works for me. I mean, my sixteenth birthday just passed, and normally by now, there's always something that pulls you in the direction of your soulmate. I've received jack-shit. But, I guess that's just the way the world works.

"Still no boyfriend, shithead?"

My older brother opened my door, looking around the inside of my room. I sighed, looking up from the book I was reading at my desk. His name was Jonah or Jojo, and he was the oldest of our siblings. He was 25, already married with a son, and another baby on the way. He was tall, arms covered in tattoos, and the stupid tongue piercing he got when he was in high school with his friends. I still remember how badly my father freaked out, and how hard my mother laughed.