Writing on the Wrists

Sometimes, the smell of something can trigger a memory, or in my case, a story. Enjoy.

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Sometimes, the best cure to anything is a good cup of coffee,

a cute shop, and good friends.

Laughter rang out from the group of friends in their regular booth. St. Marie’s was the cutest, coolest, most reasonably priced coffee hang out in the small town. At St. Marie’s you could find CEOs buying their triple shot of espresso, tired moms sighing into their third Frap, and high school students taking up booths for the free WIFI.

Anyone and everyone went to St. Marie’s. For this reason, the owner Marcy made sure to have a cool and hip atmosphere, with modern accents. When you walk into St. Marie’s, you are greeted with a happy smile and warm smell. To your right you will see the Reading Nook, which was usually overrun by high school students. Floor pillows, beanbags, and a small coffee table sit in front of floor to ceiling bookshelves. To the left, cozy booths, modern tables and stools are scattered for the older customers.

St. Marie’s had something for everyone. Which is why it was rare for St. Marie’s to be empty.

But tonight was the big football game. Everyone from our small town was there.

Well, everyone except the “Dream Team” as Marcy called them.

Reese Walker, Claire And Donna Sultz, and Buddy Scotts were the members of the Dream Team. The four friends were seniors this year at the local high school. The twins, Donna and Claire, were “completely over” high school. Buddy, Donna’s boyfriend, followed Donna around; which resulted in him rarely going to high school functions. And Reese, the shy introvert of the group, didn’t mind where she hung out, as long as her friends were there.

The Dream Team: Twins, a boyfriend, and an introvert.

They were an odd group, but they were respectful, rarely made a mess, and would sometimes help clean up, so Marcy let them hang around.

The Dream Team laughed out loud again. The group was staring at Reese’s wrist, Marcy shook her head. Oh to be young again. Walking over, Marcy saw what they were laughing at.

“Oh dear, is he at it again?” Marcy tried really hard to keep the smile off her face, but the laughter slipped into her question.

Reese quickly covered her wrist. “Yes! Gah, Marcy. I get soul mates are important, but does he have to be so…..... ug!?”

Shaking her head, Marcy tried to remember a time when she didn’t know her soul mate, Gene. She tried to remember the excitement of reading his writing on her wrist when she was younger. She tried to remember what it was like to not know.

Soul mates were a big deal, especially in high school. Everyone had one true soul mate. The tricky thing was meeting them. The only thing you knew about your soul mate, prior to meeting them, was what they chose to write on their wrist. You see, soul mates are able to communicate through their skin. But only the skin on their wrists.

Imagine your wrist was a pad of paper. But your wrist was a fancy pad of paper that when you wrote on it, someone else could also see what you wrote on their pad to. That other person? Oh they just happened to be your soul mate. This is what the teens were experiencing – the thrill of not knowing their soul mate but being able to communicate.

This was fun to see on teens that are first experiencing the phenomenon. You could hear preteens giggling over jokes, doodles, and deciding what to write back.

After a while, the “newness” wears off. Then you have what the Dream Team is experiencing – exasperation.

Marcy was there when Donna and Buddy found each other for the first time. Tears, the shouts of joy, the embarrassment; it was beautiful.

Claire has never had anything written on her wrist, so she started pretending she didn’t care.

Reese, however, Reese’s soul mate had a better sense of humor than Reese did. Every day, at 5:37, her soul mate would write a joke on her wrist. At first, Reese thought they were cute. She even chuckled to herself sometimes. As time has gone on, though, Reese is done with her soul mates sense of humor.

“What did he write this time, PB?” Marcy tried her best not to let her amusement show.

“Don’t call me PB! And he wrote, ‘Why did the boy say moooo? Cause he was a cowboy’.” Reese’s eyebrows furrowed even further than they were to begin with. She was frowning at her wrist, clearly done with her soul mates humor.

Marcy chuckled, “Geez Peanut Butter, got yourself a funny one there.”

Reese rolled her eyes, yanking her sleeve back down. Reese was completely over her soul mates humor. How immature does her soul mate have to be?

Donna leaned closer to the group. “But like, what if your soul mate is a third grader? Can that even happen? I mean, it can’t happen, right?”

Reese took a deep breath and Marcy shook her head. Bless her heart; Donna was a little out there. She is lucky she had a soul mate assigned to her.

“No honey, soul mates are always born in the same year,” Marcy said in her calm tone.

Reese sighed, “No, my soul mate just has the emotional age of a seven year old.”

With that, Marcy turned away from the group; sometimes teens need to deal with their own emotional without help.

Hopefully, Reese will take her advice and meet her soul mate before the humor completely runs dry.

*********

I just want to be alone, well as alone as I can be with

my soul mate on my wrist.

Walking home, Reese was able to reflect on her evening. Reese loved her friends, but they were always around. Sometimes a girl just needs to be alone with the voices in her head.

Reese realized she had a privileged life. She had two parents who loved her, she had a brother and a sister who loved her, and she lived in a happy family. She had good grades; decent enough she was accepted to her number one college.

The only thing that needed to line up for her was her soul mate. What kind of idiot did he have to be? A cowboy joke? Really?

Marcy has been telling her for years to ask to meet him, but Reese was scared. What if she was disappointed with whom she met? What if she didn’t like him? Or if he didn’t like her? He obviously had a low social IQ if he thought his jokes were funny. And Reese knew she was a lot to grasp. She was odd. She was an introvert. She was one of the only high schoolers that preferred to be at home than being at a party.

She could never meet her soul mate. There were too many variables she could not control.

So when she felt the telltale tingling on her wrist, she looked down surprised. It was NOT 5:37. What was he doing?

Hey, wanna meet?

Holy cheese on a cracker!

But before she had the time to process what was happening, the tingling on her wrist happened again.

Come on Meet me at St. Maries

Tomorrow 5:37

I will not pass out. I will not pass out. I will not pass out.

What is he thinking?!?!? We can’t meet. What we have is good. His daily message at 5:37 is the only thing I need. Why can’t it just be enough for him?

The tingling starts again, I look down…

Tomorrow 5:37

Well shit. Here we go.

*********

Sometimes, the best thing to do is listening to those around you.

Your heart can be a lying son of a gun.

Saturdays are usually my favorite. I get to stay home, be alone, and do nothing. Sometimes I read, sometimes I watch movies. Other times I choose to explore my creativity and start to write or draw.

Today, I called Claire and Donna, which meant Buddy came too, but I needed some advice.

Do I go see SM? What I’ve been annoyingly been calling my soul mate… Or do I write him off and carry on like I have been?

“You got to meet him PB. You just got to. If not for you, then do it for me!” Claire practically screamed when she barged into my room.

Donna, rolling her eyes, whispered to Buddy, “How is she my twin again?”

“Guys, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a disappointment.” Reese’s brain was exploding with possibilities.

Buddy, being the giant silent bear he was, looked at Reese, shrugging his shoulders. Wow, he really was such great help.

“Girl, you have to go. Otherwise you may never meet him,” Donna said, not even looking at Reese.

Shit.