There, nestled against my pulse

Chapter 1

The words on Keith's right wrist say, hey kogane you alright.

The words on his left read, stop why are you doing this to me stop it stop it stop

Dad always makes Keith wear these plastic bracelets that wrap tight around his wrists. His first memory is of slipping bright blue bands on his skin.

When he asks about the words, he's told about soulmates and soulmarks and being matched. But it still doesn't click for him, what the last words his soulmate says implies about him. He's a kid; he loses interest and goes back to digging for cool bugs.

And then one day, he forgets to cover his marks.

He's eight and awkward; he keeps his head down. He doesn't notice that people are talking about the words on his wrists until a kid sits down next to him at lunch and says:

"So I heard your soulmark's pretty freakin' awful, huh? What're you gonna do to them that has them beggin' like that before they die?"

"What?" Keith asks. "Who are you?"

The other kid points his fork at Keith's bare wrist, and just like that, Keith feels naked. He turns his hand, presses the palm to the table.

"Your soulmate's last words," says the kid. "They sound scared of you. You plannin' on stabbin' them or something?"

He laughs and it echoes, and that's when Keith realizes the cafeteria's dead silent.

"I wouldn't stab my soulmate," Keith says, but now that he finally thinking about the words, he can't see how they could mean anything else and that's—

"Aw c'mon," the kid snorts. "Everyone in town knows about your ma and pa. She's gone and my ma says your pa carries around this huge knife. Rosie's auntie says he's got a temper, and just the other day, Stevie was lookin' for cool rocks and saw your pa yellin' and throwin' that thing at a bunch of trees."

The kid leans in, grinning. "We ain't dumb, Kogane. Your pa probably killed your ma, and judging from your words? You're gonna follow in his footsteps."

He snickers. "I mean, half the town already thinks so and if you ask me—"

Keith throws his lunch tray in the kid's face.

"Food fight!" someone hollers and the cafeteria explodes into chaos.

Lunch trays go flying, kids are screaming, harried teachers rush around and Keith—

—he leaves.

He slips out of the room and heads for the main entrance. No one stops him when he walks out of the school gates, even though the lunch bell is going to ring in a minute.

The kid was right; it seems like everyone has their eyes glued to the words on his left wrist, and yet they won't meet his eyes when he looks at them.

It's a short walk home, and he spends the entire time glaring straight ahead. He keeps his wrists turned inward and close to his side, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't get the words what're you gonna do to them out of his ears.

He wants to hit something.

he's got a temper

His house is empty when he steps through the front doors. Dad's still at work.