Until We Meet Again

There was a boy, there was a girl, there was a 24 hour Wal-Mart, and there was a short, beautiful relationship that started with a bag of Cheetos. This is the story of him and her, she and he, and the power of coincidences and fate.


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Soul- (noun) [ sōl ]

The immaterial part of a being; emotional intensity; passion.


The next time the boy saw the girl was on the subway.

The two lived in a big city, one filled with bustling people and tourists, and the mere fact they had already seen each other twice was a miracle- but this-this- was almost as if it were fate that had brought them together.

The boy, as usual, was going to school (dressed in his stupid uniform). He had climbed onto the subway, as usual, taken a seat towards the back, as usual, and instinctively pulled out his phone, plugging an earbud into his ear and turning up his music as loud as it would allow. As usual.

And then, two stops later, a certain girl, wearing khakis and a polo, her hair swinging across her back with ever step she took, climbed into the very same train and took the very last available seat.

She gasped as she realized who was sitting next to her.

“Wal-Mart boy?” She hissed, staring at him. The boy looked up, smiled a wicked smile, and pulled the earbud out of his ear.

“Hello,” he said happily, biting his lip and sticking his hands into his pockets.

“Are you a stalker?” She asked, and every syllable that escaped her mouth was pure question.

“No. Just someone who has a lot of coincidences happen to them,” the boy explained.

“That makes no sense.”

“Neither does Calculus, but we still take it, right?” The boy refuted, and the girl found herself laughing. Blushing.

“Are you in high school?” He asked after a moment of a strained silence.

“Yeah. I’m a senior.”

“Same,” he replied, and his heart swelled. She was a senior.

“So why do I keep bumping into you?” She inquired, and his thoughts were broken off. He shrugged, closing his eyes, opening them again.

“I don’t know. Maybe fate just wants us together.”

She liked the sound of that, but she didn’t say so.

“There’s no such thing as fate.”

“Maybe not, but everything has an ending. Goodbye, my fateful friend,” the boy responded, climbing out of his seat and hopping out of the subway car the second the doors opened.

For some reason, the girl couldn’t wipe her smile off of her face.

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