I hung out with the guy- who I later learned that his name was Parker- the rest of the night. While he went to West Green, he was still a pretty cool guy.

"I've got two sisters," Parker said when the conversation we were having turned to siblings. "Twins too, they suck." He flashed a grin at me as I raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds rough. Two brothers over here. Elliot moved out four years ago, and Sammy is in sixth grade," I said. I was never that close to Elliot, but I had always been super close to Sammy.

"Better than two freshman devils," Parker said.

I cracked a smile at that. The freshmen at our school were rough. Always running around and trying to get to their classes like twenty years before the bell rang. It was annoying.

"I send my apologies," I told him, and he smiled at that.

I didn't realize it at the time, but he had a nice smile. I notice that now when I look back on it. His eyes lit up, and you could tell that he smiled a lot from the wrinkles that appeared around his eyes.

"They are much appreciated. Hate to say it, but I don't think that they'll help too much," Parker said, grabbing a red cup and handing it to me. "It's just soda, not gonna make you drink. Me on the other hand though, I might just have a little bit."

I took a small sip of it, and true to his word, it was just some root beer. "Well, don't get too wasted because I would have to help you, or just leave you passed out on the ground or something, neither of which I really want to do." I smiled at him.

We had moved to sit on the bottom stair of the staircase, sitting right next to each other, each of us drinking our separate drinks, and we talked for the whole night.

About everything really. What we wanted to do in the future, what our favorite subjects were, our friends, our families, our pet peeves, our favorite holidays, why country music was clearly so much better than rap music.

At the end of the night, when Samantha walked up to me about to fall over from how drunk she was, I told him that I had to go. We added each other on Snapchat, and I thought that was the end of what I thought would be a short-lived friendship with him.

As I drove Samantha home, I decided not to say anything about my new friend to her. It felt like something that should be kept a secret, and it felt like something that was just mine. Like Parker was just my person. I didn't own him of course, but I didn't feel like I should tell anyone about him. It was a weird gut feeling.

I dropped her off at her house, quickly getting out of there to avoid her family probably killing her for her being as drunk as she was. Did not want to be around for that.

When I got back to my house, I went inside and up to my room. I glanced at the time and was pretty thankful that it was a Friday night, or else I would be a zombie the next day at school.

I don't remember the exact time, all I remember is that it was sometime after two in the morning.

I went to the small bathroom down the hall to take a quick shower. My mom would throttle me if I didn't take one, even if I was taking one during the ungodly hours of the night.

I glanced in the mirror right after I pulled my shirt off over my head, putting it in the basket that was by the door, and I nearly fell over and cracked my head open from what I saw.

My soulmate mark wasn't black. Not at all, the opposite in fact. It was glowing all the colors of the rainbow, shimmering, kinda like those holographic bags that you see at the store every now and then. That's exactly what my arm looked like, and that only meant one thing.

I had just met my soulmate, and they had touched me in the exact spot that they were supposed to. It had all worked out, except for me not knowing who it was.

Sure you know who it is. You and me both now know that it's Parker, the guy that I talked to at the party. If you were paying attention, you probably caught the exact moment that he touched me too. If you didn't, maybe go back and look if you want. Because I made sure to put it in there.

I sat there for a few minutes, just staring at it. I could barely even believe it. I met my soulmate that night. I was only seventeen, and I met them. It was insane, and it took me a little bit to even try to process the information that was running through my head like crazy.

Right after my brain had finally accepted that I had met them, I tried to figure out who it was. Because it was no use meeting them if you couldn't even figure out who it was. People who just have marks on their hands are so lucky, they probably know exactly when it happens, making this part of the whole thing so much easier.

I thought back to who had actually grabbed me by the arm, retracing every single one of my steps as I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall.

That girl who had bumped into me, giggling while she was off to some other room with a guy that was clearly just as drunk as she was?

The girl who had smiled and tried to offer me a sip of her bottle of vodka, hitting me lightly as I said no and she tried to convince me to drink just a tiny sip?

Then it hit me that no girl had touched him in that exact spot where the mark was. The mark that used to be a pitch-black, exactly like what the ink out of a pen looked like.

Then, the next thing that hit me felt like a bus running right into me as I just watched it, screaming as it finally hit me, slamming me to the road and the wheels going over me.

The only person that had touched me there was Parker.