Finally, Colten says, “I think there are a lot of things in the world we don’t understand.”
“That sounds like a yes,” I say, excited.
“It’s not a no,” he says. “Just because I haven’t seen something doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
I grin. “So magic could be real?”
“Hypothetically.”
“Then what about soulmates?”
He thinks again, and I wait patiently.
“Logistically, the idea of soulmates doesn’t make much sense,” he says.
I make a questioning noise.
Of course, Colten would think of thelogisticsof soulmates. All I can think of is unlocking cool powers with the soulmate, maybe even going to an alternate dimension to fight off a horde of zombies to save them. That’d be so sick.
“What even counts as a soulmate?” he asks. “Is it someone who complements you? Someone who understands you perfectly without trying? Someone you’re destined to meet?”
“All of the above,” I say. “They should also be able to help you fight off a horde of zombies.”
Colten snorts, shaking his head. “Including zombies in this hypothetical, that would mean millions of people are incompatible with almost everyone else. You don’t just wake up and immediately fall in love with someone, at least not enough towantto fight a horde of zombies for them.”
I nod thoughtfully. Even if she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, I would be hard-pressed to go up against zombies for a stranger, especially if they’re the fast zombies. “Fair.”
“But…it is a nice idea,” Colten quietly adds, looking off into the crowd of sunbathing students on the grass.
“Right?” I say, wondering what a soulmate would even be like. “They’d be like, the one person who’s just for you. Someone who always listens and never gets boring.”
Colten snorts softly before glancing at me. “That just sounds like a good friend.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Too bad the magic didn’t work.”
“Yes, too bad,” Colten replies, chuckling.
It makes me wonder—can soulmates be just friends?
Because honestly, if soulmate friends were real, Colten would be mine.
But if he was a girl… Ah, no, that’d be weird. He might be short, but he’s still a guy, and I wouldn’t want him to be anything but himself.
I would go up against a horde of zombies for him, though. I think we’d make a good team, even against the fast ones.
We reach the locker room, where a few of the guys from the soccer team are already inside.
Rich is leaning against a locker, still wearing his letterman jacket and tapping away at his phone like we don’t have evaluations next week.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” he calls out as soon as he notices us, grinning. “Not too busy with another date?”
“Shut up,” I say cheerfully.
“Nah, it’s 'cuz he was training hard, right?” Brian asks.
“Extremely,” I drawl, which gets a laugh from a couple of the guys.
Colten and I weave through the locker room toward our lockers. He doesn’t engage with the conversation, but that’s fine. I’m what he calls asocial buffer, which I think is his polite way of saying I prevent him from getting annoyed at people.
