A grin lights up his face, almost brighter than I’ve ever seen on him. “Really?”
I nod, unable to help a small smile back. “Sure. I mean, we’re going to see each other around anyway at the store, as long as I’m hired. Not to mention, you’re friends with my sister.”
He smothers his smile a little, but nods. “True.”
As the silence stretches out between us, Beth hangs up her phone. “Sorry, guys,” she laments, making us look over at her. “I have to write an offer.”
“Bummer,” I say, “but congratulations on the chance to make more money.”
“Mo’ money, mo’ problems,” she says.
I snicker. “I did not expect that quote from you of all people.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re all preppy and you still listen to Taylor Swift.”
“If you insult Taylor Swift one more time I swear to God I’m leaving you out in the middle of this lake.”
I hold up my hands in surrender, rolling my eyes, and Ethan laughs at us.
It feels like we’re kids again, like we never split up, like we don’t need to worry about soulmates or Marks or jobs. It’s nice.
Ethan and I pull ourselves into the boat. I’m faster, probably because I don’t have a bunch of unfair muscles weighing me down. But when I pull in my innertube, I realize he honestly looks nervous, like he’s afraid of capsizing our small boat. I go to help him, but realize, blushing, that my Mark is on full display. I don my cover-up first, one that has long enough sleeves to cover my Mark, and then move toward Ethan while Beth starts the engine.
It happens in slow motion. I reach out my hand, and he takes it. His hand is larger than mine, and it’s sprinkled with callouses. I start to heave him in.
It’s then I realize that Ethan’s Mark is showing. It glows a little, not the dim shimmer I’ve seen from other Marks online or from my parents or even my own sometimes when light hits it right. His Mark actually radiates light.
His Mark is an intricate design. I can’t really describe it; there are lots of swirls and dots and it makes me think of a treble and bass clef merging. It’s a small brightness, like a phone screen’s light.
It looks just like my own.
I let go of his hand, yanking away.
He yelps as he splashes into the water.
Chapter 7
Ethan’s okay; he grabs the innertube immediately, and I, meanwhile, land on my butt in the boat. Beth jumps to action and, after hesitating between the two of us, tows Ethan in again and helps him scramble over the side of the boat, making it wiggle. I just stay sitting, staring at his arm.
He’s my soulmate.
I’ve heard about it before, how your soulmate’s Mark glows when you see it, and it fades away when you touch it directly. I’ve heard how your soulmate’s Mark matches your own with uncanny precision.
It’s another thing entirely to see it happen now.
And to have my soulmate be Ethan Perry…!
I feel my chest constrict. They’re saying something, but I can’t quite make out what. I just keep staring at it, watching it grow closer and brighter as Ethan comes near, crouching before me. Beth’s saying something now, but it’s foggy.
I dare to lift my eyes away from the Mark. I watch as Ethan moves from staring at his own Mark before meeting my eyes.
He knows.
He knows I was looking at his Mark.
I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it. Yes, I had a crush on Ethan when I was a kid, but that was a childish infatuation that lasted not even three months.
I think of Greg. Greg had been so good to me. I’d clung to him hard, and he’d put up with me - enjoyed me, even. Knowing that Ethan’s my soulmate, it makes me feel so much worse that I ogled him, even a little bit. He’s no longer some untouchable character in the background of my life. He’s real, human, and apparently fate, biology, or God thinks we’re compatible.
I don’t want to be that girl, the kind that immediately thinks herself in love with her soulmate as soon as she sees his Mark. I want to be the kind that’s constant, faithful -
He can’t know that we’re soulmates.
“O-oh geez,” I laugh, looking away as I stumble to my feet and into a seat. “I’m sorry. I slipped.”
“You dumped him in the water on purpose, didn’t you?” Beth scolds, rolling her eyes. “You know he’s freaked out by water.”
“I’m fine,” Ethan says, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stares at me. Then his expression changes, sending me a bright smile. “Although I’d have to dump you into the water next if you did do it on purpose.”
“Bring it on,” I grin back, the action hurting my cheeks. I wrap my arms around myself.
I can’t let him know. I can’t. I can’t handle this right now - maybe ever. Ethan doesn’t deserve some soulmate like me. I don’t deserve a soulmate like him. But he doesn’t seem that eager to find his soulmate, either, so maybe we’re good? Maybe he has no intention of finding her - me - and we’ll just live the rest of our lives peacefully and platonically? I just have to, you know, make sure I wear longer sleeves from now on.
I think of Greg’s stricken expression when he looked at my Mark. I wish I could rip it from my skin.
* * *
We hitch the boat to Beth’s Hyundai. “You want a ride home, Abby?” she asks, but I shake my head.
“No. It’s doing me good to be out of the house, I think. Besides, I might as well enjoy the weather. It won’t be much longer until it’s too cold.”
We say goodbye, and Beth drives off.
“You want to grab a bite to eat?”
I can’t help it; I stiffen. I had expected Ethan to take off, too. “Oh, um. We could?” Honestly, I’m pretty hungry. I’m always hungry, though. And I should act normal, anyway, so he doesn’t suspect anything.
He grins at me. It’s a relief that his shirt is back on; the sun is hot enough that it will probably dry quickly, as will my hair. “Great,” he says.
We don’t bother to take his car. I follow him on foot into Burger Heaven, a relic from the 1950s that has somehow maintained its old-school appearance and delicious food after all these decades. It’s near the shore, a street up from O’Malley’s. As we enter, I shiver. The onslaught of air conditioning would feel good, if I wasn’t wearing just a swimsuit and cover-up.
“Should we get it to go?” Ethan asks, probably noticing my shivering.
I grin a little helplessly, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head to serve as a sort of headband. “That might be nice.” Normally, I’d stick it out, but it’s really freaking cold compared to the heat outside. I don’t understand how he’s not freezing, but I think he likes the chill.
Someone I don’t recognize takes our order. Ethan asks for a cheeseburger with extra onion, while I get a plain burger with pickles and fries. Before I can dig through my purse for my debit card, Ethan’s handed cash to the employee, more cash than he really should need for a simple burger. My suspicions are confirmed when the employee hands back his change in mere quarters and tells us our order will be ready soon.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I tell Ethan as we hop up onto the red swivel stools at the chrome bar. Well, I hop up. He just slides right on, since he’s so tall. “I’ll pay you back. I just don’t have any cash on me right now.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“No, seriously,” I say firmly. “You already found a job for me. I don’t need anything else. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”
He holds his hands out in surrender. “Sorry, geez.”
I purse my lips. Maybe I overdid it.
“Here’s your water,” the employee says, bringing us two cups of water.
“Thanks,” we say, and the boy goes to wipe off a booth.
I stab my straw through the lid and take a sip, words failing me.
“So, what did you go to school for again?” Ethan asks after a sip of his own. “I know Beth told me at some point.”
> “English. I worked as an editor in New York, but with the whole soulmate thing…” I wince. He’s not someone I should talk to about this. Besides - “It’s so embarrassing. I can’t believe what a mess I made of my life just because I got dumped by a guy. I ran home with my tail between my legs.”
“Hey, no,” he says, but despite the compassion in his voice, I only want to cringe in embarrassment. I don’t want to look at him and see pity on his face. But he continues while I stare at my plastic cup. “It’s a lot. You got your Mark just a few months before you moved here, right? And you’d been dating for more than a year?”
I give a small nod. “Two.” This is so awkward.
“Give yourself a break,” Ethan says. “A lot happened for you in a small amount of time. And who knows? Maybe it’s for the best that you’re out of New York.”
I send him a withering look, because really? “Yeah,” I drawl, “thank God I’m here instead.”
He shrugs. “Lake Redwood’s really not that bad.”
My glare smooths away. “Why did you come back? You must’ve seen all kinds of things around the world, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, “but not much of it was good. I like the peace and quiet, and Lake Redwood’s a great place to be for that.”
“That’s for sure.” It’s a big deal if someone even gets a parking ticket here. There are some bigger towns around us where there’s a little more crime, so sometimes we see or hear something a little more intense, but it’s rare.
“Besides,” he adds thoughtfully, his blue eyes soft and warm. “My mom’s here. My friends are here. I don’t mind traveling in the future, but,” he says with a shrug, “it’s home.”
I smile a little. “That’s nice. I’ve never really felt like I fit in here - or in New York, for that matter.” Then I pause. I shouldn’t talk to him so much about my personal life. Tread carefully, Doyle. Still, it’s nice to talk to someone, and Ethan has always been known as fair and discreet. He never even told me where Beth hid her legendary Pokémon cards back when we were kids, even though he’d seen her stash before.
“I liked college,” I say carefully. “Everyone’s a little lost in college. But before that - and after - it’s just been…hard.”
“Did you meet Greg in college?”
I wince.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan says immediately, his forehead wrinkling as he purses his lips in concern. “I shouldn’t have brought him up.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say hesitantly. “You don’t mind me bringing him up?”
“Why should I?”
Why should he, indeed. He doesn’t know we’re soulmates. “Okay,” I tell him. “We didn’t meet in college. We work - worked - in the same publishing company.”
He grimaces. “Maybe it really is a good thing you don’t work there anymore.”
I grin a little. “Maybe you’re right,” I confess. “Anyway, we got along. He was kind of weird, like me, and he was very…soft. I don’t know. He was able to handle my moodiness and turn it around.” I smile softly. “He sent me all these dank memes and YouTube video essays about important elements in shows we both watched. He and I were good friends.”
“Then he asked you out?” Ethan asks, not looking at all discomforted by the topic. I’m impressed.
“Actually, I asked him,” I say while chuckling. “I waited forever for him to do something, but nothing ever came of it. So I decided to just go for it. I made sure to keep my expectations low, but lo and behold, he agreed to a date. Eventually, we moved in together, and then we were happy, and then I got my Mark.”
“I’m sorry.”
I scoff. “Good Lord, Ethan, you don’t need to apologize for anything. It’s…kind of nice to talk instead of just stewing in it.”
“I’m glad.” Ethan pauses, glancing forward. The employee has returned with a brown paper bag dampened by grease, telling us to have a great day. I grab some napkins out of the chrome dispenser and dump some salt and pepper packets into the bag while Ethan slides off of his stool, taking our cups of water. I grab the meal, and he walks ahead of me, holding the door open. It’s a gentlemanly thing to do. It’s something he’s always done, ever since he was a boy, but given recent revelations, it makes me feel conflicted.
We take a seat at the picnic table behind the restaurant, where a tree and the nearby buildings give us some shade from the relentless sun. Still, it’s nice to be warm instead of cold. As I hand Ethan his burger, I wonder if I should make an excuse and take my food home. But as my gaze flickers to Ethan, I notice him rub his ear again. He’s feeling awkward, too. For some reason, it’s a relief. I relax into the seat, ripping the bag down the middle so it can serve as a clean surface for me to dump my fries on.
We start eating. Immediately, I moan. “I forgot how good this is.”
Ethan closes his eyes in pleasure. “That hits the spot. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we ordered.”
We continue eating for a while, silent. It’s a peaceful feeling, I realize. All I hear is the crunching as we eat, the ruffling of the paper bag in the breeze, the dull drone of the few cars passing by. So different from New York. The noise had been good, I thought; it drowned out my thoughts and filled me with a sense of energy and purpose. But maybe it’s not so bad to enjoy the quiet.
“How are you doing, by the way?” Ethan asks softly. I do a double-take. His burger’s completely gone. How. I’m still barely halfway done with mine, and I haven’t even eaten any fries. “With everything.”
I purse my lips. “I mean, I’m not feeling great about it,” I say, smiling dully. I force myself past my discomfort in talking to him about this; he doesn’t know he’s my soulmate, so it’s not like I’m being cruel or anything. “Greg was…” I swallow the lump in my throat.
After a moment, I try again. “He’s kind and goofy. He likes watching surgeries and documentaries about serial killers, but he’s such an airhead. He doesn’t have much of a backbone, but…” I can’t help but smile a little. “He was more than I deserved. He put up with me like nobody else.”
To my surprise, Ethan glares at me. I can’t remember him ever doing that, except maybe playfully. But this is not playful, not at all. There’s a real annoyance there in his blue eyes, maybe even anger. “Don’t do that,” he bites out.
“Wh-what?”
“Don’t put yourself down like that. Any guy would be more than lucky to be with you.”
I laugh weakly. “I’m obnoxious and prickly. I’m not trying to get you to, like, comfort me or anything. But it’s true. I’m annoying.”
“You’re lucky we’re not on the boat,” he says, flashing a sharp smile at me. “I’d throw you overboard for that.” Despite the humor in his words, he still doesn’t look like he’s being playful.
It sends shivers through me. Not bad ones, like I might have walking down a dark street in New York, or how I always feel when I glance at my Mark in the mirror. Seeing Ethan serious - serious because of me - makes my chest burn with something I don’t understand.
“You’re one to talk,” I say softly, grabbing a fry. “You’re always a saint. Drove me crazy as a kid. Mom always let me trail after you and Beth because she knew you wouldn’t get us into trouble.”
At that, he barks a laugh, sharp and piercing. I jump at the sound of it. “A saint, huh?” Ethan murmurs. “That’s a joke.”
“You are. You’re always doing the right thing. You’re obnoxiously perfect.”
“Careful, you might give me a big head.”
I roll my eyes, popping my fry into my mouth. As I chew, I wonder. Am I being too casual with him? I feel like everything we say has taken on new meaning, new weight.
“I’m no saint,” he goes on, after taking a sip of his water. “I did things in the military I’m not proud of. I think it was necessary, but I’m not proud of it. And honestly, I always admired you.”
I jerk back. My disbelief must be written all over my face because honestly, I’ve never been s
o shocked. Why on earth would he admire me, especially when we were kids? Beth’s always been the sweet one, albeit ditsy. I was always temperamental compared to her. Compared to anyone, maybe.
“No way,” I tell him.
“It’s true,” he says. “And apparently, I’m a saint, so you should believe me.”
I roll my eyes while he gives me a cocky smile. I relax at the sight of it. This is the Ethan I know.
“But really,” Ethan continues, “you’ve always been upfront and honest. I just smile all the time and pretend like nothing bothers me. I think it’s better to be honest than to pretend.” He pauses. “I always felt like a fake, growing up. I’m just like everyone else. I have rotten thoughts. I judge people. But because no one sees that, they think I’m something I’m not.
“You’ve never been that way, though,” he says, looking at me. It makes my breath catch a little bit. “You’ve always been brutally honest. It’s impressive, truly. Not many people are fearless about telling the truth.”
“That’s quite the nice spin of it,” I tell him, grinning, hoping he doesn’t notice how red my face is, or how my eyes feel like watering. No one’s ever said that to me before. Greg has said sweet things, like “I love you” or “you’re perfect the way you are.” But I’ve never been told that what I always thought of as a flaw could actually be a strength. Like, I know my brashness always intimidated Greg a little bit; he’s never been assertive like I am, though he can be upfront about some things (like, you know, breaking up with me). My attitude’s always bothered even me. It’s toned down over the years, but I know at my old job my assertiveness has gotten me both praise and criticism. The fact that Ethan appreciates that about me? Wow.
But he’s wrong.
I’m not honest, and I’m not fearless, because if I were I wouldn’t be lying to him right now, pretending that his Mark has no significance to me. I wouldn’t be pretending like we’re just two old childhood friends, or he’s just my sister’s best friend, or anything like that.
What a mess.
“Well,” I say, “I’ve always wished I was kind like you and Beth.”
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