If You're Hurt They Bleed

I wish...

"Bye, Mom!" I raced out the door.

"Don't be late!" She chastised.

I hopped in my dad's car and sighed. One more day at school. One more day without knowing.

I live in a small town, which basically means almost no ones getting out. Ever.

Almost everyone else in my school has already met their soulmate, including my best friend, who just recently started dating the quarterback after he broke his thumb and hers followed suit. Out of all of the relationships I've seen blossom, however, my favorite was the basketball captains.

One of the captains was openly gay. He'd come out a few years ago, and everyone was fine with it. Except for the other captain, who had so much testosterone everybody was sure he was on steroids.

During a game last year, Captain Steroids twisted his ankle. The gym fell silent when we all heard a cry of pain from Owen, the other captain. Needless to say, a lot of anger and tears happened between the two of them.

Now they're the epitome of love. The schools' "Star couple". That's how it's been for almost everyone. Love. I haven't met my soulmate yet, but I know they probably aren't big into sports. I've never woken up with a misshapen arm or a large bruise.

Usually, when you receive a mark from your soulmate, it's painless. If you feel hurt by the injury, it either means they're in danger, or maybe need to wake up to the truth(see above story).

It's just annoying, for the most part. Small bruises that you don't understand. Probably from them hitting their arm against a door or a scratch from their cat. I don't get them often. My best friend gets bruises constantly, particularly on her upper arms and legs. It all depends on who your soulmate is. I don't. That's just how it goes sometimes.
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"Hey, Maya!" My best friend, Molly snaps me out of my trance. "What's up?"

"Nothing. As usual." I respond monotonously.

"Don't be so down!" She exclaimed, draping an arm around my shoulder. "We have choir next!" She sang, racing ahead. I couldn't hide the smile on my face as she pranced down the hall doing jazz hands.

Choir was, without a doubt, the best class of the day. Our teacher, Mr. Robinski, was an older guy with an extremely cynical sense of humor. He also loved broadway more than anyone else in the world, including my best friend. Which is saying something. I don't know what color her walls are because of the amount of posters in her room!

He's the best teacher ever, and from what Molly says, a great director too. I stick to the back. Tech stuff, mostly. Molly can have the spotlight. I just like watching the shows turn into something amazing. They go from, well, honestly terrible, to amazing in six weeks. Molly is spectacular onstage, too. She's been doing this stuff from such a young age, and I know her dream is to be on broadway. I hope it comes true. All I want is to meet the person I'm supposed to love more than myself...