Casey Anderson isn't expecting much from her Mark - but when her soulmate turns out to be Prince August, the boy next in line for the throne, everything changes.
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In a world much like our own, Casey Anderson is trying to navigate her senior...
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The rest of October passes quickly. I'm lost in a haze of schoolwork and routine, enjoying the feeling of settling back into a close-to-normal routine.
For the most part, having my Mark doesn't change anything. My Mom joins Del in being the only two people on the planet other than me who have seen it, and I plan to keep it that way.
For my birthday, Del got me a couple of super cute cloth wristbands, designed to cover up Marks, with embroidered patterns of stars and flowers and tiny little bees. I love them, even though I don't really need them now, in the winter, when my wrists are mostly covered by sweaters anyway. I'm sure they'll be invaluable in the summer months.
Del is sure I'll have found my soulmate by then. I try not to think about it. The Mark on my wrist is comforting in the fact that there is someone out there for me, someone supposedly perfect, if I ever wanted someone. I'm not doomed to be alone, I suppose.
I still don't think the chances of finding my soulmate are high enough to start looking, and I'm not yet desperate enough to start posting my mark to social media or the dozens of Mark-matching apps that have sprung up in the year since the Rift.
I don't know. I guess I just think that I'm young, and probably not ready to meet the person I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with, and that we'll probably find each other when we're meant to.
There's something very reassuring about that. And in the meantime, I have all of the things in my life that I had before, plus a kind-of cool tattoo. Even if I'm not showing it to anyone.
Del and I practically double our trips to Starbucks as the weather worsens. It's now become normal on days like today, where the rain once again pounds the pavement and fog comes in over the ocean, to head straight here after school.
And, just like always, Del has chosen this opportunity to berate me over my career choices.
"Okay, so you don't pursue writing," she says, gesturing wildly with one hand and nearly taking out some poor guy behind her, who has to pull some serious limbo moves to avoid being smacked in the face. I mouth the word sorry to him and turn my attention back to Del, who has definitely had at least two cups of coffee too many today.
"But, like, why Business and Accounting?" she asks, taking another large sip of her cup. Seriously, at this rate, her heart is going to explode. "Why not Magical Research or something cool. You know that field is seriously new right now, they need all the young brains they can get."
"I'm not a scientist," I say, though feebly. At this point I know it's just better to let Del run through her arguments. Besides, it's entertaining.
"You could be, though, that's what I'm saying," Del says.
"You know I already have the internship, and probably a job offer depending on my performance there and my grades at school," I say, and Del sighs like she's heard this fifty times before. Which, to be fair, she has - it's basically my only argument in favour of my choice.
