The Soulmate Hypothesis

Methods (Part 1)

My break up with Xander, my first boyfriend, happened two weeks before we started at our respective high schools. If we hadn't broken up then, we would probably have broken up shortly after, just from the difficulties that come with being at high schools on opposite sides of town. So far away! The tragedy!

We broke up because I was getting tired of his 13 year old shenanigans. I told him, sternly, that he was far too immature for me, and I needed someone who was less of a clown. I told my parents, in what I thought was a wise psychoanalysis, that he was immature because he was the youngest of four siblings, and I was more mature because I was the oldest of three. Of course it had nothing to do with 13 year old boyishness. Of course.

I soberly went up to my room and pulled out one of my empty notebooks from their neat row on the bookshelf by my tidy bed. I plucked my favorite pen from my pen mug, and began a list.

Boyfriend Requirements

1. Nice hair

2. Knows how to dance

3. Has younger siblings

I paused, considering, then added a few more.

4. Loves his family

5. Good student/smart

6. Tall

7. Can play a musical instrument

The seventh point was a kind of bonus, since I couldn't myself play an instrument, but wouldn't mind someone to serenade me. It seemed romantic and right.

+++

I'm not one to primp over dresses.

I always say that, and yet somehow every time I go out, I try on five different outfits, cycling through them multiple times, and leaving discarded ones on my bed, for future Georgie to deal with when she comes home exhausted.

I guess I am one to primp over dresses.

For the date with Logan, I finally settle on a simple pastel pink shift with some roman sandals - it's promising to be a warm September evening. My hair neatly curls into a French twist clip and I throw on some neutral lipstick.

It's 5:59pm

I check my phone - no texts from Logan - and I realize that I am more excited than nervous. I haven't been on a date in a solid two years, and now I'm going on one with a guy who is, quite objectively, hot. He's tall, he's got great hair, and he's absurdly smart - and he's into me, apparently?

My phone buzzes at precisely 6:01:

Hey :)

I'm here

I grab my purse, make sure that I've got everything, and head for the exit. Logan's standing by the front desk, wearing a blue plaid button down that fits absurdly well, chatting with the student on duty. He looks up.

"Hey," he says, his dimples showing again. "You look nice."

"Hey," I say, smiling back. "So do you."

"Let's go?" he asks. "Bye, Jonah."

The front desk kid gives a nod, and we walk out into the sunny gold of the evening.

"So you've ever been to Grove House before?" he asks, as we walk down to the main strip of town. I shake my head.

"I haven't either," he says, "But I hear it's pretty good. Apparently my parents and my brother went there way back when I was doing whatever useless stuff they have us do in orientation."