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Am I a bit of a hopeless romantic? Maybe. But I don’t think caring about soulmarks is hopeless . They do exist for a reason.
Tomorrow, on my eighteenth birthday, I get my soulmark. Not that it’s a big deal because I’m almost one hundred percent sure that I know who it is. At least, I’m hoping. It’s not common to fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate but it does happen and that would be just my luck. But really, I don’t see how it couldn’t be Rhiannon.
Rhiannon has been my best friend for my entire life. She has been the only constant in my life. She’s always been here for me and if she’s not my soulmate? I’m going to call bull on this whole system. I just don’t believe it.
Rhiannon’s birthday isn’t for a few months so I can’t tell her if we’re soulmates but I at least want to know.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Felicity says. My little sister has never been one to care about soulmates and usually likes to remind me how ridiculous I am for caring about them so much. “You don’t need some tattoo to confess your love to Rhiannon.”
“But what if we’re not soulmates?” I say. “Then it wouldn’t be fair to anyone. She probably wouldn’t even feel the same if someone else is her soulmate.”
“I don’t think some tattoo is going to determine whether she likes you or not,” Felicity points out.
“You don’t get it, Feli.”
“I really don’t,” she sighs, fiddling with the remote. We’re sitting on the couch, watching The Golden Girls, and waiting for midnight for it to be my birthday. My parents have already gone to bed. They, like Felicity, are some of the rare unbelievers. They’re not soulmates and while I’m not saying that’s why their marriage is falling apart . . . I am saying I don’t think that’s a coincidence.
Though I really don’t say anything.
“So what are you going to do if Rhiannon isn’t your soulmate?” Felicity asks.
“Die, probably.”
Felicity snorts. “That’s a little dramatic.”
“My specialty.” I ignore Felicity’s eye roll and check the time. “Ten more minutes.”
They may be the longest ten minutes of my life. Not even Betty White can distract me. But when the clock hits midnight, and my phone goes off, I jump up. I examine my arms.
“Do you see anything?” I ask.
Feli checks the back of my neck. “Nope. Check under your shirt.” I go to pull off my shirt but she smacks my hand. “Not in here! Go to the bathroom.”
I run to the bathroom down the hall and take off my shirt. I examine my chest and see nothing. I turn to look at my back in the mirror and see it. On my shoulder, there’s a name. I can’t read it though.
“Felicity! Come read this for me.”
Felicity, begrudgingly, comes to the bathroom. I turn to show her my shoulder.
“What does it say?”
Felicity squints and leans in to read the name. It must not be that big. “It says . . . Percy Newton.”
Oh.
“Who the hell is Percy Newton?”
“I dunno,” Felicity says. “Maybe they’re related to Rhiannon? Same last name.”
“Maybe,” I say, but I doubt it. I’ve been to almost all of Rhiannon’s family gatherings, heard stories about all of her cousins. She isn’t related to a Percy. I pull my shirt back on, disappointed is an understatement.
After a moment of silence, Felicity says, “I’m sorry it’s not Rhiannon, Monty.”
“Guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” I say, shrugging.
Felicity is still frowning but nods. “Well, I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
“Night, Feli,” I say. Felicity leaves me and goes upstairs
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out.
Rhiannon: Happy birthday!!!
Rhiannon: What does your soulmark say??
Monty: it doesn’t really matter
No matter how much I search, I can’t find them. It’s like Percy Newton doesn’t exist, or they have no social media. I can’t find them anywhere. I’ve subtly asked around school and no one knows who they are. I just don’t get it . Why couldn’t it be Rhiannon? Why is it some stranger who, at best, is a long lost relative of hers? And why can’t I find them ? Do they not have their mark yet? Do they know about me? I’m not hard to find.
It’s just frustrating. I spent all that time waiting for my soulmark only to be disappointed and now I can’t even find my soulmate. Maybe it is just hopeless.
I know Rhiannon can tell my soulmark has been bothering me since I got it, but she hasn’t been pushing the issue. Her birthday is tomorrow and I’m trying to hype her up for hers. I’m getting mini cupcakes to bring to her house. We’re going to stay up until her birthday, which we couldn’t do for mine because she was sick.
I get to Rhiannon’s house around eleven and text her. She comes to the door to let me in because we’re trying not to let her parents know that I’m here. Her dad will not let go of the idea that we’re dating no matter how many times we assure him that we’re not (unfortunately).
It’s not that people don’t date people other than their soulmate. You just typically don’t settle with someone who isn’t your soulmate, and though I love a good hookup, I don’t see the point in starting a relationship with someone knowing it won’t last.
Well, I didn’t. But if Rhiannon isn’t my soulmate, I may have to reconsider.
“Woah,” I say when Rhiannon opens the door. “You cut your hair.”
Rhiannon nods. “Did it myself. What do you think?”
“I think it looks good, fitting.”
Rhiannon used to have a wild Afro that stuck out everywhere and, while I think that looked good on her too, I really like what she’s done now. She shaved the sides of her head, leaving only the curls on top. It’s kind of masculine but that doesn’t surprise me. Rhiannon has always been a bit of a tomboy. If she hadn’t mentioned guys to me before, I would think she’s gay.
She smiles. “Come on. I’ve got the roof set up.”
I follow Rhiannon up the stairs and out her window, onto the roof where she has set up a sort of picnic. She has a picnic blanket and fake candles because “I’m not trying to burn down the house and get caught sneaking you in”. There’s a package of real candles and matches for the cupcakes. Rhiannon plops onto the blanket and I sit next to her.
“Look,” I say, “I know you told me about things that you wanted for your birthday but looking at music terms makes my head hurt so— ” I stop and reach into my pocket. Rhiannon laughs. I pull out a gift card to the little mom-and-pop shop downtown where Rhiannon gets stuff for her instruments. “I figured you’d be better off picking them out for yourself. Happy birthday.”
Rhiannon is still smiling. “You’re probably right. Thanks, Monty.” She pockets the gift card. “Not my birthday yet, though. We have about half an hour left.”
“Well? Are you excited?”
“About becoming an adult or getting my soulmark?”
“Both.”
“Then yes.” Rhiannon opens the cupcakes and pops one into her mouth.
“Hey! Shouldn’t we save those for your actual birthday?”
Rhiannon shrugs. Once she swallows the cupcake, she says, “We have twenty-five cupcakes and two of us. I think I can treat myself a little.”
She makes a valid point. I eat a cupcake too and Rhiannon starts switching on all of the candles.
When she sits again, we try to pass the time talking about what Rhiannon is going to do now that she’s eighteen (“I might get an actual tattoo.” “Can we get matching ones?” “. . . Maybe.”) but soon Rhiannon turns serious and stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
Rhiannon pulls her knees up to her chest. “Monty, I sort of need to tell you something.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve been hiding a body or something.” Rhiannon gives me a look that can only be described as kid waiting outside a principal’s office anxious, so I stop. “Seriously, you can tell me anything. You know that.”
“I know, I know,” she says. “This is just . . . really important and I want it to go over well.” She pauses like she’s still trying to figure out what she’s going to say. Her phone goes off, announcing midnight, but she holds up a hand before I can say anything. “Let me get this out first.” She takes a deep breath then looks at me. “So, I’m not really . . . a girl? I mean, I don’t feel like one. I think I’m actually a guy and now—”
“So you’re trans?” I interrupt.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Oh, cool.”
“That’s it? Cool?”
“Well, yeah. Do you want to do it again?” I ask. “I can have a more dramatic reaction if you want.”
“No, no, just . . . you don’t care?”
“Not really? I mean I support you and I get that it’s a big deal for you but it’s not like . . . a problem. You’re my best friend either way.”
He smiles. “Thanks, Monty.”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything special.” I shrug. “So, do you have a name picked out?”
“Yeah, Percy.”
Percy. Percy? Percy! My jaw drops. “Percy?”
His smile falls. “Yeah . . . ? I like it. Do you not—”
“No, no, no, your name is Percy .”
“Yeah, I really don’t know where you’re going with this,” Percy says.
I hop up and start pulling off my shirt.
“ What are you doing?”
“Percy! Look!” I turn so he can see my shoulder and point to his name tattooed there.
Percy stares at the name. “We’re . . . ?”
I turn back to him. “Where’s your soulmark?”
Percy checks his arms, then his legs. “Here.” He looks at his ankle, then looks back up at me, grinning. “Henry Montague.”
“We’re soulmates ,” I say.
Percy nods.
“God, that’s a relief.”
He gives me a bemused smile. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been sort of hoping that it would be you,” I admit. “And when I saw that the names didn’t match I was disappointed and really confused because I couldn’t find a Percy Newton anywhere but . . . here you are.”
Percy smiles wider. “Who knew soulmarks were trans-affirming?”
That makes me laugh. “This is . . .”
“Amazing? Fantastic? Life-changing?” Percy teases. He stands.
“All of the above.” I reach for Percy but he pushes me back, laughing. “Put your shirt back on.”
I do as he says and then when I hold out my arms, he lets me slide them around his neck. Percy is infuriatingly taller than me by about six inches. “You’re not disappointed, are you?”
“About what?” he asks, arms around my waist.
“You know, that it’s me?”
“I thought I made it obvious that I’m not.” Percy leans his forehead against mine. “Amazing? Fantastic? Life-changing?”
I laugh. “Okay, okay, I get it.” I run a hand through his hair. “I really do like your hair like this.”
“It feels more like me.”
I nod. “Have you told your parents yet?”
“No, I wanted to tell you first.”
“I’m glad you trusted me with it.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You are my soulmate.” He gets a kick out of saying that, nudging my nose with his.
“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
“I think I have an idea.” He kisses me.
So believing in my soulmark wasn’t so hopeless after all.