"So," I whisper, looking at my hands. "Where are you from?"
He seems just as awkward as I am. "I'm Irish, Polish and a little bit Scandinavian, but I was born in Canada."
"I'm Croatian, French, and the teeny tiniest bit Mexican. Oh, and I was also born in Canada."
"Wow, you're from all over the place."
"Yeah, but Scandinavian? What?"
He chuckles. "Yeah, that's on my dad's side. My great-great-great-great-grandfather was born in Scandinavia so I consider myself part Scandinavian."
"Alright."
"Do you think anyone else is like us?" With the brain voices, I mean.
I don't know, but I know my grandparents were like that. Apparently this type of thing only happens for one pair every ten years.
Really?
Yeah. I've read a lot about this occasion, and it turns out, this actually never used to happen until the year nineteen hundred. The first couple to ever have this happen to them was when there was a boy and a girl born in the same year and in the same hospital.
"Actually?" he whispers, seemingly astonished.
I nod.
I guess we're the pair of the generation.
YOU ARE READING
The Story of Us
RomansHow they met, how he fell appart, and how she rebuilt what they thought was broken forever.